Tempest Unleashed (26 page)

I didn’t know where I was going, only that I needed to move. It was hard to breathe in Moku’s hospital room, or up here in Linda Vista at all. I was too far away from the beach, from the ocean, and I swear I could practically feel my skin drying out the longer I stayed here. Already the soft cotton of my jeans and T-shirt chafed painfully.

There was a garden area on nearly every floor, filled with flowers and trees and play equipment for the kids who got tired of sitting in their rooms all day. I found the one on this floor, spent a few minutes walking around it.

There was a little boy, no more than three, toddling back and forth with a huge red four-square ball. His mom kept asking him to throw it to her, but he wouldn’t let go. He just held on to it and ran around in circles as she laughed and tried to keep him from getting tangled up in his IV.

He charmed me with the mischievous smile he shot his mother every time she got a little exasperated with him. The way he held his hand up to her face and patted her cheeks. He was adorable, and I couldn’t help wondering why he was in the hospital.

I ended up settling near the basketball hoop, a large, orange ball in my hands. I dribbled a little, made a couple baskets, but it wasn’t exactly exciting to do it on my own. Still, I needed to move, to exercise. I’d spent the last eight months in an almost constant state of motion. Sitting around doing nothing for the last twenty-four hours actually physically hurt.

“I’ll play you. Whoever gets to fifteen first, wins.”

I turned around at the familiar voice, and there he was. Mark. My powers sparked to life inside me.

“I think I should get a handicap. You were MVP of the team two years in a row.”

“Three,” he said, his smile dimming a little as we both realized how much I’d missed.

“Right. Three. Congratulations.”

He held out his hands for the ball. “I’ll spot you three points.”

“Four points. And I start.” I whirled around, dribbled a couple of times, then threw the ball at the basket. It went straight in.

I whooped. “Did you see that, baby? Nothing but net.”

“Should I rethink your handicap?” Mark asked, rebounding the ball and then dribbling it up the half court and back.

“Not on your life.” I threw myself in his way and shoulder bumped him. It was a total foul, but he didn’t call me on it. And he made the basket anyway.

I ran for the ball, tried to take it up the court, but he was right there, arms spread wide, body bumping against and tangling with mine.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. It was so much like the old days when we’d played—no rules, no called fouls, just a driving desire to win coupled with the joys of friendship and so much more.

I ducked around him, deliberately brushing my body against his the way I used to. It still worked like a charm. He stumbled, his beautiful brown eyes going dark and molten.

I ran down the court, but he was with me every step of the way, his arms caging me, his forearms brushing softly against my ribs.

My powers exploded through me, shocking me. I fumbled, dropped the ball, and he laughed, a low, wicked sound that sent chills up and down my spine. Then he picked up the ball and ran it back.

I cursed, took off after him, and this time it was I who twined myself around him, trying to reach the ball. My hands skimmed his sides, his lower back, his flat, well-muscled stomach as I attempted to pry the ball away from him. It wasn’t working until I leaned forward to get that extra inch of reach, and pressed my breasts tight against his back.

It was his turn to fumble, to drop the ball, but when I reached for it, he grabbed on to my forearms, turned me until we were facing each other. I tried to duck my head, to look away, but he wouldn’t let me. He followed, his eyes burning right through me.

It was one of the most intense moments of my life. Standing there in the empty garden, Mark’s body inches from mine. A current of awareness rippling between us, dark, powerful, undeniable. And so overwhelming that I could feel it swamping me, pulling me under. Dragging me back to the way things had always been between us despite the distance of the last few months.

“What are you trying to do to me?” he demanded hoarsely. “Are you trying to drive me completely insane?”

“No. Of course not. I—”

“I see you
everywhere
. In the water, on the street, in the halls at school. Even when I know it isn’t you, I still think, maybe …”

His hands tightened on my arms and he pulled me closer, until our faces were only an inch or two apart. “I see you every time I close my eyes. I dream about you, about what it was like when you were mine. That’s the only time I’m happy anymore, those moments when I’m half-asleep, when you’re right there, so real that I can practically touch you.

“And then I wake up and remember that you’re gone, and it nearly kills me. Every goddamn morning, I get to relive losing you all over again.”

“I’m so sorry, Mark. I’m so, so sorry.” Tears were running down my face. I tried to stop them, but I couldn’t. Not now, not with him.

“When I saw you in the water, I really thought I was going crazy. And I didn’t even care if it meant I got to talk to you, to hold you. But you
were
real and you kissed me blind, then you just disappeared again, like it was nothing. Like we were nothing.”

“No!”

“
Yes
. I went back every day at the same time and waited for you for hours, even after the good waves were gone. I was sure you’d come back, sure you couldn’t just kiss me like that and leave again. But you did. If Moku hadn’t gotten hurt, you never would have come back. I would have been out there waiting for you forever.” He let me go so quickly that I stumbled. He caught me, steadied me, but then turned away, shoulders bowed, hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts.

“And then, when you finally do come back, you bring
him
. Kona.” He all but snarled as he said the name. “Every time I think about the fact that I introduced you two eight months ago—”

“But you didn’t.”

“What?” He turned back to look at me.

“I’d met him before, a few days earlier. He came to our beach looking for me—that’s when he met you.”

His eyes narrowed. “The bastard.”

“It’s not like that. I mean, it’s complicated.”

“Why? Because you’re a little different?”

“I’m more than a little different.” I took a deep breath and then blurted, “I’m mermaid, Mark. That’s a pretty big deal.”

He didn’t answer for a long time, and when he did speak it was in the quiet, musing tone he got when he was attempting to figure things out. “So I’m not crazy. That really was your tail.”

“Yep. It really was.” I studied him, tried to figure out how he felt about my not being completely human. For once he was hard to read, but it looked like he was taking it better than I’d ever imagined.

Finally, I just asked him. “Does it bother you?”

“What? Your tail?”

“Yes! No, I mean, not just the tail. The fact that I’m mermaid. That I’m not like you and I never will be.”

“I don’t know.”

“Mark.”

“I’m serious. I really don’t think so. It doesn’t feel like it bothers me, but then I wonder, shouldn’t it? Maybe I’m not that freaked out because I always knew you were hiding something big.”

“What do you mean?”

“You think I didn’t notice how cold you always were, except in the water? How you never needed a wet suit? I was out there the day you nearly drowned, Tempest. I saw your legs just collapse beneath you. Shit, I even saw you turn purple. It’s hard to ignore the whole glowing thing. Or the mystical tattoos that just showed up on your back, no redness, no irritation, nothing.”

“You didn’t—” My voice failed and I had to start again. “You didn’t care?”

“The only thing I ever cared about was you. I kept trying to get you to talk to me, kept trying to show you that it was okay. I even gave you that mermaid necklace for your birthday, thinking it would say what I couldn’t. But you practically threw it back in my face.”

“I didn’t—I thought—” Shit, I kept stumbling over myself. Why were the right words so hard to find? “It was supposed to be a secret.”

“And you didn’t trust me enough to keep it?” He looked incredulous. “We’ve been best friends forever, Tempest. Even when we weren’t dating.”

“I know, I know. It’s just … I could barely handle what was happening to me, and I’d always known about mermaids. How could I expect you to handle it too?”

“You could have at least given me a chance.”

“Maybe I would have if you hadn’t dumped me for a cheerleader.”

“Really? I dumped you? You’re the one who came to me that day at my house.”

“Do you not remember Chelsea? Everyone knew there was something between you.”

“I did that for you.”

I laughed incredulously. “Yeah, right. Because what girl doesn’t want to lose her boyfriend to the captain of the cheer squad?”

“You were already gone! You think I didn’t know there was someone else? You think I didn’t know that you didn’t love me anymore? She was nothing. Window dressing. Saving face. Whatever you want to call it. I knew you felt too guilty to end things, so I helped you do it.”

The shock of his words reverberated through me, like cymbals crashing too close to my ears. “You’re not still with her?” The words fell out of my mouth before I even had a clue I was going to say them.

“I was never
with
her. We went on a couple of dates, then broke up—or whatever you want to call it—a few days after you disappeared. I love
you
, Tempest. I’ve always loved you.”

PART FOUR

Run-Up

“The winds and waves are always on the side
of the ablest navigators.”

—EDWARD GIBBON

Chapter 22

Fifteen minutes later, I was still reeling from Mark’s revelation.

He
still
loved me?

After all this time?

After I’d run away with another guy?

After I’d confessed that I was mermaid?

He loved me even then?

It boggled the mind, not to mention the heart. My heart.

I didn’t know what to say to him, or how to act now that he’d admitted he never cared about Chelsea. It shouldn’t matter, I knew it shouldn’t, but somehow it did. Which was ridiculous, because I loved Kona. But I loved Mark too, and always had.

Closing my eyes, I barely resisted the urge to bang my head against the nearest wall. Maybe a concussion would make this whole thing easier to understand.

“So, are you going to say something?” Mark asked as he handed me a Dr Pepper from the vending machine. Which was one of the coolest, and easiest, things about being with him—he knew all of my likes and dislikes, my favorites and my no-way-in-hells.

Kona was still learning, trying to figure me out, but with Mark everything just fell neatly into place. Like the way he knew I loved Dr Pepper, blue M&Ms, and reading French existentialists. That I liked putting together gigantic puzzles with really small pieces and collecting obscure red sea glass, but that I wouldn’t touch anything that tasted like root beer, contained peanut butter, or in any way resembled reality TV.

Mark had held my hand through all eight Harry Potter movies and hadn’t laughed when I cried at least twice in every single one.

It used to make me uncomfortable that my boyfriend knew so much about me (except, of course, for the really big thing that I hadn’t been able to tell him). Now that he wasn’t my boyfriend anymore—and it turned out he already knew about the really big thing and didn’t think it mattered—it felt different to be understood so well.

It felt good.

Comforting.

Like I couldn’t disappoint him, no matter how hard I tried.

With Kona, I always felt like I was trying to live up to who he wanted and needed me to be, but with Mark I could just be who I really was. Teenage girl, mermaid, friend, surfer, human. With him, there was no pressure to save the world, which—after the week I’d had—definitely did not feel like such a bad thing.