The Secret Life of a Teenage Siren (20 page)

I dig out my brush and try to detangle this rat's nest (a.k.a. my hair), but it's a lost cause. So I get out my acne wash and splash some water on my face. Oh,
great.
Guess I should've taken off my glasses first.

Pumpkin pokes his head through the doorway and yips. “What is it, boy? You don't recognize me, do you?” I pat his head and he growls, backing out of the bathroom like I'm going to pull out that princess doggie costume I force him to wear every Halloween.

When I finally finish fumbling through my get-ready-for-bed routine, Grandma Perkins is waiting in my room,
The Siren Handbook
on her lap.

“How'd you know where I hid it?” I ask, sitting down beside her.

She smiles and shrugs. “I always hid it
in my lingerie drawer. I just had a feeling you'd do the same.”

“I guess I won't be needing it anymore.” I feel so sad, returning this to my grandma. It meant so much to her that I, too, was a Siren. “I'm so sorry to have disappointed you.”

She strokes my frizzy, tangled hair and looks at me with those gorgeous green eyes. “You didn't disappoint me, honey. The whole point of being a Siren is getting what you want. And by giving up your Siren powers, you've gotten exactly what you want. You've found love.”

I start crying like a baby. I take off my glasses and dry my tears on my shirt. When I look over at her, tears are falling down her cheeks too.

“To tell you the truth, you've taught me more about being a Siren than I've taught you.” Grandma makes a hiccup-y sound and then abruptly stands. “Well, dear, I'm going to go try out that guest room down the hall.” She tucks
The Siren Handbook
under her arm and starts for the door.

“See you in the morning,” I say.

Grandma Perkins whirls around, wiping the tears off her cheeks and smiling warmly.
She looks like a heroine in a classic romance movie. “I'll take you to the hospital in the morning, dear. Now try to get some sleep.”

When I see Pumpkin wandering down the hall, I jump out of bed and grab him. He yaps and wriggles out of my hold. “Don't you want to sleep with me, boy?” I ask. In a fit of whimpers, he scampers down the hall to where Grandma Perkins is spending the night.

Before getting in bed again, I find the biggest, brightest star in the night sky. “I wish that Alex recovers quickly,” I whisper. I can't wait to start our new life as “more than friends.”

A loud, squeaky yawn wakes me up. Down by my feet, Pumpkin yawns again and stretches his little legs. Guess he had a change of heart. I jump out of bed and rub his cute, pointy ears. “Hey, boy. Glad to see you like hanging out with me again. See? It's not that bad.” I open the blinds and look across the street to Alex's house. It's weird being up this early and not seeing his Civic parked on the side of the road.

Hang on.

What's weird is
being able to see without my glasses!

I run to my bureau mirror and gasp. How can it be that I'm Lindsay-Lohan-eat-your-heart-out gorgeous again? Was losing
my Siren beauty just a bad dream? Was it a hallucination brought on by the tragedy of Alex's accident?

“Grandma,” I yell. “Wake up!”

I tear through my closet, searching for the perfect first-time-to-see-my-boyfriend-since-he-woke-up-from-a-coma outfit. (If it sounds like a soap opera, I may as well look like I'm starring in one, right?)

There's a soft knock on my bedroom door. “Roxy? Is everything okay?” Grandma Perkins asks, her voice a little sleepy sounding.

“It's better than okay! Come on in and see!”

The door opens slowly. I turn around, my flirty Jaded skirt twirling, and stop mid-spin. “Grandma?”

The woman standing in my room bears a striking resemblance to Grandma Perkins, but something's drastically different. She's no longer beautiful. She's not exactly
ugly,
but she's just so ordinary looking. Oh, God, is my mouth hanging open?

“Um, hi …,” I stammer, averting my eyes until I can get a better handle on the situation. What the hell is going on?

“It's okay, Roxy. I know you're probably
surprised to see me like this.” She chuckles. “To be honest, I'm having a bit of trouble with my appearance as well. I've never seen myself like this before. I've been a Siren for forty-five years, you know.”

Her hair is coarse and a grayish-white color instead of blond. She's the same height, but instead of curves, she's all knees and elbows. Her skin has a reddish undertone with some wrinkles sprinkled in, and her lashes and brows are sparse. She looks a lot like Mom will probably look twenty years down the road. Actually, she looks a lot more like a
grandmother.

Grandma Perkins closes the space between us and runs her fingers through my shiny red mane. Tears glisten in her light brown eyes. “You are beautiful, both inside and out.”

“But … how?” I flail my arms, hopelessly confused.

She lowers her lanky frame onto the foot of my bed and pats the space beside her for me to sit down. “I didn't tell you last night because I wasn't sure if it would work. These past few days have been so emotional for you, and I really didn't want to get your hopes up for nothing… .”

“Grandma, what are you talking about?”

I didn't realize until now that she's holding
The Siren Handbook.
She flicks through until she finds the page she's looking for, and sets it on my lap. “This part of the legend has always intrigued me. You see, when her lover was on his deathbed, Thelxiepia revealed to him that she was a Siren.”

“Like me,” I whisper.

Grandma Perkins nods solemnly. “Yes, like you. And like you, Thelxiepia lost her Siren powers. Until her elder sister, Pisinoe, asked Hades for a favor.” She rests her hand on my back, leaning closer to
The Siren Handbook.
After clearing her throat, she reads out loud: “Her own death forthcoming, Pisinoe beseeched Hades to transfer her Siren powers to Thelxiepia, who, in spite of her impassioned mourning, was full of life. Hades, who had much to gain by the survival of the Sirens, granted Pisinoe this final request.”

I shake my head, my fiery hair sweeping over my shoulders. “I still don't get how you transferred your Siren powers to me, though.”

Grandma gazes out my window for a
moment before answering. “I just did what Pisinoe did.”

My mouth drops open in disbelief. “You talked to the god of the underworld?”

She laughs. “Not exactly.”

“Tell me!”

“Well, okay, here goes. But I'd better warn you. It's really
bizarre,
as you say. First I closed my eyes and cleared my head of all extraneous thoughts. Next I concentrated on what a beautiful person you are. I focused on all the wonderful, unselfish things you've done, particularly since becoming a Siren. Then when I couldn't possibly fill my mind with another thought, I took a deep breath, focusing on all the good times I've had as a Siren. And when I exhaled, I envisioned my future without the powers and responsibilities of being a Siren.”

She flips to the front of
The Siren Handbook,
running her finger over the picture of the Siren. We're both silent for several minutes. Finally, I speak. “Okay, so that
is
totally bizarre.”

Grandma Perkins laughs, and I don't think I imagined that snort. “Yes, it is.”

Twenty minutes later Grandma Perkins emerges from the bathroom with her hair
and makeup done, dressed in a linen pantsuit and matching heels. She doesn't look Siren-beautiful, but she looks nice. And her eyes may not be emerald green anymore, but they still have their twinkle.

“Roxy, I'm going to go on a trip for a few weeks.”

“Where are you going?”

She reaches over to squeeze my cheeks. “Don't worry about me. Now, go get that man of yours!”

“Alex?”

The nurse nods at me as I sidle up to his bed. Patricia is sitting in a beige chair, drumming her fingertips on the armrest. She's watching her son with pure love in her eyes. She shifts her gaze to me and says, “He's been asking for you.”

“Mom, can you go five lousy minutes without embarrassing me?” Alex murmurs, his eyelids half-closed and swollen. The bed is angled upward, like the beds at Willington House when the old people are watching TV. He's still puffy-looking, but he's not as red as yesterday. The blood is cleaned off, and bandages and Band-Aids cover his cuts. His skin and hair look so shiny and clean.

“Well, it's the truth,” Patricia says. “You
were
asking for her.”

The nurse scribbles something on her pad and then slips out of the room.

“Mom? Will you go get me some Sprite or something?” Alex asks.

She stands up. “Of course, honey. I'll take my time.” With a wink, Patricia closes the door behind her.

Once we're alone, I put my hand on his and kiss his cheek. “Hey, Rox,” he says.

“Hey.” After a beat, I say, “So, I've been thinking.”

“Uh-oh. Sounds dangerous.” He smiles lazily.

“We should definitely keep volunteering. We make the old folks so happy. They have a reason to wake up in the morning, to snap in their dentures and slip on their Depends. And the dogs! We make the dogs happy too. They love being able to get out of their kennels and stretch their legs. We can't give this up, Alex. It's up to us to bring everything together. It's up to us to make a difference. It's up to us—”

“To scoop the dog poop,” Alex says.

“Why do you always have to make a joke when I'm trying to be serious?” I put my
hands on my hips, pretending to be annoyed.

“I'm sorry. You were saying?”

I intertwine my fingers with his. “God, Alex. I'm just so relieved you're okay. I was so scared I was going to lose you.”

“Really? Man, I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you. As soon as they let me out of here, we're having Egg McMuffins. My treat.”

“That sounds great.”

We're both quiet for a little while, holding hands, just breathing. I hear people out in the hall, their voices muffled behind the door. The fluorescent lights hum softly, and the blinds tremble when the AC turns on.

Alex locks his heavy-lidded eyes with mine. “I had the strangest dream when I was in the coma. You were in it, and you were sitting right here, telling me you were a goddess … no, wait. A Siren. Yeah, that's it. And you were explaining how everything you've achieved this summer was because you had these amazing powers. And that truck crashed into me and I was going to die, all because you fell in love with me.”

I straighten my posture. “Oh, really?”

His eyelids open a little more, showing those beautiful caramel eyes.

I stroke his cheek and whisper, “Well,
I know one part wasn't just a dream.”

“Oh yeah? Which part?”

I lean over and kiss him lightly on the lips. Then I kiss him deeply. His eyes widen. “Hey! I wasn't talking about
that
kind of dream!”

“You're so full of it.” I punch him in the arm and he yelps out in pain. “Oh, God! Sorry, Alex.”

He scoops up my chin and looks into my emerald green eyes. “I'm glad you're not really a Siren.”

I'm not sure what to say, so I just squeeze his hand.

“I want you to love me, but I'd rather not die.”

“I love you.”

He closes his eyes and makes a loud, obnoxious croaking sound. I start laughing and don't stop until he quits playing dead and kisses me.

On my way home from St. Mary's Hospital a week later, I hear the muffled tune of “Shut Up” and dig into the depths of my Pucci tote. It takes me two years to find the damn thing, this bag is so big. I'm so going back to my Old Navy satchel. It may be cheap and out of
style, but at least I know exactly where everything is in it. I hold the phone to my ear.

“How's Alex doing today?” Natalie asks.

“Oh, he's okay. I mean, he's pretty banged up and can hardly stay awake to finish a sentence, but the doctors expect him to make a full recovery. He's going to make it. And that's what matters.”

“Are you two engaged yet?”

I snort. “Hel-
lo?
We're only sixteen.”

“Fine, then. Have you two done the deed yet?”

“In the hospital?” I ask, mortified that she'd even think that.

She laughs. “Noooo. Before—when he spent the night at your house. You know, the night before the accident?”

“Natalie! That's so none of your business.”

“I thought so.”

“I didn't say—”

“What
ever.
Anyway, Fuchsia and I are driving up to visit him tonight. Do you want to come?”

“Yeah, cool.” I pass a billboard with a Vail Hot-Air Balloon Fest advertisement. A girl I've never seen before is the model, and she looks amazing.

Chase and his buddies are splayed out on the living room floor. Looks like they're watching that
Dukes of Hazzard
movie. “Hey, dork! Get the hell out of the way!” Chase yells at me as I dodge a shower of Barbeque Pringles.