Read Online Fins Are Forever by Tera Lynn Childs - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tera Lynn Childs
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a passenger is way different. I love the feel of the wind in my face and my hair whipping behind me. It’s like swimming in air.
Since getting a ride from Aunt Rachel that first day to get Doe registered, though, the toadfish cousin and I have been walking to school. No room for two passengers on Princess, and no way am I leaving Doe to her own devices.
Who knows what kind of trouble she could find on her way to school.
“You can get over that,” Doe declares as she walks into the kitchen, Prithi faithful y at her heels. “I’ve got a ride.” Quince waves at Doe, his mouth ful of toast.
“What do you mean,” I ask, “you’ve got a ride?” Doe looks just as fashionable as she has al week in an ankle-length skirt that changes from a deep purple at the bottom to almost white at the waist, a plain white tank top, and a big, silver multichain belt that hangs low over her abdomen. Even her briefcase doesn’t distract from the fact that she is obviously a cool girl.
Three days on land and she’s at the top of the social ladder.
How does she do that?
Plus she’s managed perfect makeup, perfect silver manicure, and perfect, nonfrizzed hair. Life is so unfair.
“Brody’s picking me up,” she explains as she pours herself a glass of grape juice, which she’s decided is a tolerable substitute for kelpberry juice. She turns to face me, glass in hand. “He didn’t want me having to walk all the way to school again.”
Al the way? I snort. It’s six blocks.
As much as I’d like to ride to school with Quince and not spend the extra fifteen minutes each way in dedicated one-on-one time with Doe, the idea of her and Brody alone in his car sends off warning bel s.
“You can’t ride with Brody,” I say.
Doe downs her glass of juice before asking, “Why not?”
“Why not?” I echo. I’m starting to feel like a broken record about this. Does she real y not get it? Or is she just trying to drive me insane? Both are viable options at this point.
“Because he’s a human. Because you’re not. Because you’re only going to be here a short time—”
“Because you stil have feelings for him?” I jerk back at Doe’s accusation. “What? No,” I answer after a heartbeat of shock. “Of course not.” I glance at Quince. I mean, he must know that I’m total y over Brody, right? Because I am. The only boy who gives me butterflyfish in the stomach anymore is Quince. I’m ruined for other boys. I know that’s a cliché, but it’s true.
He just kind of shrugs and rol s his eyes at Doe’s suggestion, chomping the last bite of his toast. He has his mildly jealous moments, but I guess this isn’t one of them.
Brody isn’t a threat anymore.
Doe sets her glass in the sink. “Then I don’t see what the problem is.”
“You don’t?” I push to my feet. “It’s just… wel , you… and he—”
I look helplessly at Quince and Aunt Rachel, hoping that one of them wil know how to get through to Doe. Quince shakes his head, and Aunt Rachel actual y says, “I don’t see the harm.”
Am I the only sane person who sees this as a shipwreck in progress?
“Then it’s settled,” Doe says. A loud honk, honk blares from the direction of the driveway between our house and Quince’s. “That’l be Brody. See you later.” She grabs her briefcase and heads out the kitchen door.
Dazed, I fol ow her, leaning out the door to watch her climb into Brody’s Camaro. He has his arm over the passenger seat, and when Doe sinks into the leather he tries to lean in for a kiss. Before I can shout “No!” she pul s back and laughingly pushes him to his side of the car.
Wel , at least there’s that. She’s not entirely without sense.
I can’t imagine what kind of disaster it would be if she let him kiss her and they wound up bonded. D-I-S-A-S-T-E-R.
On a melting-polar-ice-caps scale.
“This isn’t going to end wel ,” I mutter as I turn back into the kitchen.
Quince is there, wrapping his big, strong
Since getting a ride from Aunt Rachel that first day to get Doe registered, though, the toadfish cousin and I have been walking to school. No room for two passengers on Princess, and no way am I leaving Doe to her own devices.
Who knows what kind of trouble she could find on her way to school.
“You can get over that,” Doe declares as she walks into the kitchen, Prithi faithful y at her heels. “I’ve got a ride.” Quince waves at Doe, his mouth ful of toast.
“What do you mean,” I ask, “you’ve got a ride?” Doe looks just as fashionable as she has al week in an ankle-length skirt that changes from a deep purple at the bottom to almost white at the waist, a plain white tank top, and a big, silver multichain belt that hangs low over her abdomen. Even her briefcase doesn’t distract from the fact that she is obviously a cool girl.
Three days on land and she’s at the top of the social ladder.
How does she do that?
Plus she’s managed perfect makeup, perfect silver manicure, and perfect, nonfrizzed hair. Life is so unfair.
“Brody’s picking me up,” she explains as she pours herself a glass of grape juice, which she’s decided is a tolerable substitute for kelpberry juice. She turns to face me, glass in hand. “He didn’t want me having to walk all the way to school again.”
Al the way? I snort. It’s six blocks.
As much as I’d like to ride to school with Quince and not spend the extra fifteen minutes each way in dedicated one-on-one time with Doe, the idea of her and Brody alone in his car sends off warning bel s.
“You can’t ride with Brody,” I say.
Doe downs her glass of juice before asking, “Why not?”
“Why not?” I echo. I’m starting to feel like a broken record about this. Does she real y not get it? Or is she just trying to drive me insane? Both are viable options at this point.
“Because he’s a human. Because you’re not. Because you’re only going to be here a short time—”
“Because you stil have feelings for him?” I jerk back at Doe’s accusation. “What? No,” I answer after a heartbeat of shock. “Of course not.” I glance at Quince. I mean, he must know that I’m total y over Brody, right? Because I am. The only boy who gives me butterflyfish in the stomach anymore is Quince. I’m ruined for other boys. I know that’s a cliché, but it’s true.
He just kind of shrugs and rol s his eyes at Doe’s suggestion, chomping the last bite of his toast. He has his mildly jealous moments, but I guess this isn’t one of them.
Brody isn’t a threat anymore.
Doe sets her glass in the sink. “Then I don’t see what the problem is.”
“You don’t?” I push to my feet. “It’s just… wel , you… and he—”
I look helplessly at Quince and Aunt Rachel, hoping that one of them wil know how to get through to Doe. Quince shakes his head, and Aunt Rachel actual y says, “I don’t see the harm.”
Am I the only sane person who sees this as a shipwreck in progress?
“Then it’s settled,” Doe says. A loud honk, honk blares from the direction of the driveway between our house and Quince’s. “That’l be Brody. See you later.” She grabs her briefcase and heads out the kitchen door.
Dazed, I fol ow her, leaning out the door to watch her climb into Brody’s Camaro. He has his arm over the passenger seat, and when Doe sinks into the leather he tries to lean in for a kiss. Before I can shout “No!” she pul s back and laughingly pushes him to his side of the car.
Wel , at least there’s that. She’s not entirely without sense.
I can’t imagine what kind of disaster it would be if she let him kiss her and they wound up bonded. D-I-S-A-S-T-E-R.
On a melting-polar-ice-caps scale.
“This isn’t going to end wel ,” I mutter as I turn back into the kitchen.
Quince is there, wrapping his big, strong
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