Breathless (11 page)

The gator glared at me with unblinking eyes and a look that, if he could talk, would cal me every name in the book.

My leg muscles seized with the ache to sprint. “Bastin,” I said, “the stone was enough. I don’t want any more presents. Please put the al igator back in the water.”

Bastin stopped moving. “Okay.”

Relieved, I stopped, too. “Real y?”

“Yes.” He grinned. “I promise to put him back . . .
after
you hold him.” He thrust his arms—and the reptile in them—at me.

“What?” I jerked back and tripped on a loose plank at the end of the dock. I landed on my butt on the sandy shore. “Are you crazy? There’s no way I’m holding that thing.”

“But you have to hold him. It wil help you.”

I stood on wobbly legs. Sand stuck to my ankles, making my skin itch, but I didn’t dare pause to brush it off. “In what universe is getting my face bitten off considered helpful?”

Bastin snorted. “Please, Edith. Do you think I’d let that happen? Back home we keep these things as pets.”

“Real y?”

“No.” He smiled. “Are you kidding? Al igators are mean as hel .”

“Bastin!” I moved my arms as if to shove him but stopped when the gator whipped his tail. A squeak escaped my throat.

Bastin laughed and stepped forward. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist. But seriously, I want you to take the al igator. You only have to hold him for a minute. I promise.” He took another step, which put the gator within biting distance to me.

My pulse skipped as my heart played hopscotch inside my chest. “What’s the big deal? What does it matter if I hold the stupid al igator or not?”

“It matters,” he answered, “because you told me that you’re afraid of your stepdad because he’s scary, mean, and he wants to send you away.

But I can guarantee you that this al igator is scarier, meaner, and—not only does he want to send you away—he’d like to eat you. Wouldn’t you agree that makes him worse than your stepdad?”

“Yes. But I stil don’t see—”

“The point is that you’re going to face this al igator. You’re going to overcome your fear, and you’re going to survive. After that, how bad can your stepdad real y be?”

I licked my lips. His words made sense in a crazy sort of way. “But what if he bites me?”

“He won’t.” Bastin’s eyes locked onto mine. “I’m here, and I won’t anything happen to you. I promise.”

I believed him. Al I had to do was look into his eyes to know that he only wanted to help. And since he went through the trouble of catching the gator, the least I could do was try. “O-okay. I’l do it.”

The grin he gave me made the threat of an al igator bite total y worth it. “Good.” He held out his arms. “Now I want you to slide between the al igator and me.”

I swal owed hard and ducked beneath the thrashing reptile. When I stood I pressed myself against Bastin’s chest in order to put as much space as possible between me and the jaws of death. Too many emotions rol ed through me at once. The heart-squeezing anxiety of having an al igator invade my personal space coupled with the dizzying effects of Bastin’s salty-sweet ocean scented skin swayed me on my feet.

“I want you to place your hands exactly where mine are,” Bastin said. “One hand wil grip his snout and the other wil support his body.”

I tried to concentrate on his words, but al I think about were the hard lines of muscles pressed against my back.
Focus, Edith!
With trembling fingers, I reached for the al igator’s snout. The reptile’s eyes narrowed and he jerked in Bastin’s grip, his tail lashing dangerously close to my body.

I whimpered and shrank against Bastin’s body.

“It’s okay.” Bastin tilted his chin down so that his breath warmed the skin below my ear and sent delicious shivers racing down my spine. “I’ve got you. Try again.”

Slowly, I reached out and ran my fingers along the top of the al igator’s snout. His scales were softer than I expected, leather-like. When I was convinced that I wouldn’t drop dead from a heart attack, I gathered the rest of my courage and wrapped my hand around the gator’s jaw.

“Good job,” Bastin said. And while I couldn’t see his face, I could hear the smile in his voice. “The muscles that al igators use to close their jaws and crush prey are very strong,” he continued. “But the muscles they use to open their jaws are very weak. This is why we’re able to keep their jaws closed with almost no effort at al . See?” He dropped his hand from the gator’s snout so that my hand was the only thing keeping it shut.

“Oh my God,” I whispered. I was holding an al igator’s jaw shut. Me! And on top of that, I was stil alive!

“You’re doing great,” Bastin said. With his free hand, he guided my arm under the al igator’s body at the base of its tail. The al igator twitched once and went stil . “Okay, are you ready for this?”

I swal owed. “I trust you.”

“No.” He leaned his head over my shoulder so that his cheek was next to mine. “Do you trust yourself?”

I couldn’t answer right away. My head spun from Bastin’s nearness. What exactly was I supposed to trust myself to do? Keep my grip on the al igator? Try not to die? Or something more? “I-I think so.”

“Good. Because it’s al you, now.” He dropped his arms, stepped back, and left me alone, with a struggling al igator in my arms.

My heart leapt inside my throat, thick and hard. But, despite my inability to breath, I held on. “I’m doing it.” I wasn’t sure who I was talking to; me, Bastin, or even the al igator. I pivoted on my feet so I could face Bastin. The gator writhed and twisted, but I held on. “I can’t believe this. I’m doing it!”

I laughed out loud.

Bastin laughed, too, but held his hands up. “Careful where you point that thing. It’s loaded.”

“This is amazing!” In my hands, I held a creature that wanted me dead. And yet I was okay. For the first time in my entire life, I felt strong—almost invincible.

“Are you afraid?” he asked.

“No.” My heart hopped inside my chest like a bunny with ADHD, but I wasn’t afraid. In fact, I felt like I’d lived more in this moment than I had in my entire life.

“Why do you think that is?”

“Because . . .” But I wasn’t sure why. The animal in my arms could easily kil me. That alone should have my knees quaking. But I felt elated. That, if it wasn’t for the added weight from the reptile in my arms, I might just soar into the sky. “Because I can handle it.”

He nodded and held out his hands. I placed the al igator back into them. When I was sure Bastin had the reptile firmly in his grip, I let go. “That’s not the only thing you can handle,” he said. “Don’t forget that.” He turned, stepped onto the dock, and walked to the edge where he dropped the reptile back into the water. It swam away without a backward glance.

With the al igator safely back in the water, I couldn’t help myself. I ran down the dock and threw my arms around Bastin’s waist, pressing my cheek into the hol ow of his neck. No one had ever forced me to examine who I real y was on the inside. I was used to being torn down by Sir’s snide comments and threats. I’d thought I was weak. But that wasn’t true. Before this moment, before Bastin came into my world, I’d never realized the strength I had. “Thank you,” I whispered against his chest.

He tensed, his arms rigid at his side. For a moment, I wondered if I’d made a mistake by hugging him. But, slowly, Bastin relaxed and returned my embrace by wrapping his arms around my shoulders. “You’re welcome.”

We stayed that way for a long time. Me, not wanting to let go, and Bastin not making me. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d been held so close or felt as safe as I did in that moment. I never wanted it to end. It wasn’t until exhaustion got the better of me that I felt myself being lifted and carried down the dock. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t keep my eyes opened, and I worried that if I fel asleep, when I final y woke, I’d discover that Bastin had only been a dream.

But then I heard the words, “I real y like you, Edith,” whispered from a distance. I couldn’t be sure that I’d heard them correctly, so I pried my eyes open just in time to see Bastin slip through the sliding glass door of my bedroom. Only then did I feel safe enough to let myself fal .

I spent most of the next day in an exhausted haze. I didn’t remember getting dressed, or even my ride to school. And, despite guzzling an energy drink, I dozed during my classes and spent lunch nodding—but not real y listening—while Morgan prattled on across the table from me.

It wasn’t until that night, as I pul ed my night gown over my jeans and T-shirt, that the fog of sleep deprivation clouding my mind final y lifted. In fact, I felt energized. My body hummed in anticipation of Bastin’s arrival. My blood burned through my veins like a spark on a fuse of a firecracker. How much longer until I exploded?

The minutes passed like hours until, just after midnight, a familiar shadow appeared at the door. I was out of bed and outside before Bastin had the chance to knock. Once outside, he and I walked hand-in-hand to our dock, where I kicked off my flip-flops and sat down on the sun-bleached wood, my legs draped over the side.

Bastin sat next to me. He grinned and invisible needles crocheted intricate knots inside my stomach. “How’s my al igator wrangler?” he asked.

“Retired,” I answered, then laughed.

“That’s okay. You’ve got bigger beasts to wrangle.” He nudged me with his shoulder. “How did things go with your stepdad?”

His touch electrified my skin to the point that I was surprised I didn’t see sparks. A blush burned from my cheeks to my throat and I ducked my head before Bastin could see it. “It didn’t. I’m . . . working up to it.”

“Ah.” Bastin tilted his head to the sky. The moon reflected off of his silver hair making it look like it burned with a blue fire. “You mean you chickened out.”

“Hey!” I nudged Bastin back which made him laugh. “Rome wasn’t built in a day. And it certainly wasn’t built by al igators.”

Stil laughing, Bastin shook his head. “I have no idea what that means. But I do know what it’s like to have an overbearing father.” He leaned back on his hands, stretched his legs out on the dock, and crossed them at the ankles. “If my father knew I was here, talking to a human, he would fil et me.” His voice changed to a regal tone in what I guessed was an impersonation of his father. “Fraternization between the human and mer worlds is strictly forbidden. To do so would be at threat to al mer-kind.”

I giggled. “That’s crazy. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

The humor drained from his eyes and was replaced with sadness. “Maybe not you specifical y, but your species seems determined to kil us.”

The smile died on my lips. That was news to me. I didn’t realize other people knew about mermaids, much less tried to kil them. “What are you talking about?”

He turned his attention back to the sky, which spread before us like a velvet blanket littered with diamonds. “Humans care nothing for the ocean.

They leak pol ution and disease into our world, destroying our homes and making my people sick.”

My eyes drifted to the soda bottles and beer cans that littered the shore. “Yeah, wel , I’m not so sure that too many people care about the land, either.”

Bastin nodded. “And that’s why so many tribes want you dead.”

“What?” I whipped my head around to see if he was joking. His face was impassive, as if murder were as casual a topic as basebal and the weather.

He settled back onto his elbows. “Wel , not
you
specifical y. Just humankind.”

“Oh,
just
humankind.” I waved my hand dismissively. “That makes me feel
so
much better.”

Bastin cocked his head to the side, as if my reaction amused him. “Not al mers feel that way, Edith. My people don’t. In our kingdom, we are forbidden from making contact with humans, but we don’t wish them dead. There are other tribes, though, that would prefer to see your kind exterminated. Like the mers who attacked your friends.”

“You mean like Luna?” I shivered, remembering her cruel smile and claw-like nails.

He shook his head. “No, Luna and I tried to stop them. The only reason she attacked you is because you saw her face when she took your purifiers.”

The more Bastin talked, the more questions piled into my head until my temples throbbed under the pressure. “Purifiers?”

“That’s right, you cal them something else. What’s the word I’m looking for?” He was quiet for a moment, and then snapped his fingers. “Pearls.”

Reflexively, my fingers went to my throat and grasped for my missing necklace. “Why on earth would you be so concerned over a few pearls?

The ocean is ful of them.”

“Not as many as you think.” Bastin shifted his weight on the dock. “And our need is great. Pearls contain a chemical—calcium carbonate—that is vital to our survival. It helps us fight off the excessive levels of CO2 that your kind has pol uted into our waters. Without calcium carbonate, we would die.”

My hand dropped to my side. When he put it that way, I doubted I’d be able to hold onto my broken necklace grudge. “Oh.”

Bastin continued, “The other tribes, however, would use calcium carbonate for another purpose. They would put excessive levels of CO2 into your atmosphere—to melt the polar icecaps—and bury your land underwater.”

It was hard to imagine a threat to human existence had been going on without anyone realizing it. I swal owed hard. “They could do that with pearls?”

He nodded. “Pearls are part of it, but there are other stones in the deepest part of the ocean—deeper than humans are able to explore—that contain concentrated levels of calcium carbonate. We cal them nicite. These stones are very powerful and very rare. My kingdom has only one.

We’ve been attacked numerous times by other tribes trying to steal it.”

“What would happen if they got it?” I asked.

Bastin blinked one of his too-fast-to-be-human blinks. “They would destroy your land. You would die.”

Acid climbed up my throat and burned my tongue. “Then why not destroy your nicite thing?”

He tilted his head away and stared at the ocean. “Because, then, my kind would be dead. It’s capable of cleaning more of the ocean than al our pearls combined.”