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.
“I don’t know what to say,” I finally admitted. It was a crappy answer to his declaration, but the best I could come up with, since my brain had soared into overload.
“You could start with how you feel about me.”
“It’s not that easy, Mark.”
“Sure it is. Either you love me or you don’t.”
“That’s not true. I do love you—of course I do—but that doesn’t mean anything is going to change, or even that it can change. My life is so mixed up right now—between how crazy things are at the place I’ve been living for the last eight months and dealing with Moku—”
“I’m sorry.” For the first time since I’d seen him today, Mark looked ashamed. “I shouldn’t be pressuring you. How is Moku?”
“He’s the same—and I can take the pressure. I just don’t want to make any decisions right now because I’m afraid I won’t think them through.”
“I don’t want you confusing what happened with Moku with how you feel about me. Which is why I shouldn’t even have brought this up right now. It’s just, when your dad said you’d gone for a walk, I couldn’t stop myself from looking for you. I told myself it was just to make sure you were okay, not because I wanted to push you into something you aren’t ready for. Yet here I am, doing just that.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “Nothing like an ex-boyfriend pledging his undying love to put a damper on the mood, huh?”