A great white is only a few feet away. Its flat, black eyes make my heart rate accelerate and panic flood my system. Sharks scare the holy crap out of me, especially great whites. I swim slowly backward never taking my gaze off the huge shark. I read somewhere they have over three thousand teeth. Why does any fish need that many teeth?
The shark keeps pace with me. I have a strong desire to wring my hands. Where are my dolphin buddies when I need them? Not fair. I’ve already been saved once tonight. Plus, I don’t want them to become shark fodder.
Stay calm. I force my heart rate to level. I don’t want to use up my remaining oxygen too quickly. It’s been a while since I’ve surfaced. I certainly can’t now. Half an hour is my max. But if it comes to drowning or being eaten by a shark, I choose drowning.
The shark circles me. I turn with it. My head feels light from lack of oxygen. Keeping my eyes on the shark, I kick upward. I want to get as close to the surface as I can.
It swims closer. Looking deep into those soulless eyes, I know it’s getting ready to attack. Panic disappears. Calm takes its place. I fist my hands, ready to fight.
It moves with unbelievable speed and beauty. Jaws wide, it comes at me.
I pull to the side and aim for its eye. My fist makes contact with its head and glances off.
I don’t do any damage but it takes the shark by surprise. Those huge jaws close. He shakes his head and thrashes his tail. Always go for the eyes, gills, or nose, Gramps has said over and over. I lunge for his snout. Bringing my fists together, I hit as hard as I can.
He turns so fast, his tail knocks against my side and stomach. Reflexively, my mouth opens in a gasp. I swallow water. Burbling, I head for the surface. The shark is no longer my primary concern; I feel like I’m drowning. I shoot to the surface and gasp for air, coughing. I manage to chuff, water spilling out of my blowhole.
It’s only when I can breathe again that I take a cautious look around.
The shark is gone.
I’ve had all the adventure I can handle for one night and head home. My arms feel leaden; each breath hurts my lungs. I hope I don’t encounter any more creatures in trouble, because I’m not sure I can do anything about it.
The feel of wet rubber grazes my side. I look around, alarmed, afraid the great white has come back for a snack. Relief floods me. It’s my friends. Swimming on each side of me is a dolphin. I grab their fins and hold on. I’m not sure if they ran off the shark or he decided I wasn’t worth the effort. Either way, I’m glad he’s gone.
The dolphins carry me several miles. When I see the shore, I let go.
“Thanks.”
They chirp in reply. My gaze follows them as they swim back toward the middle of the ocean. Half-swimming, half-floating I make my way to the shallows, drag myself up the trail and into the house.
Gramps looks up from the murder-mystery he’s reading. His feet are up and a large, empty bowl sits at his side. The smell of buttered popcorn hangs in the room. My mouth waters but the need for rest is stronger than the need for food.
“You okay?” He places a finger between the pages and closes the book.
“Just tired. I’m going to bed. I’ll talk with you tomorrow.” I trudge toward my bedroom. It seems a million miles away.
“Sweet dreams, Pip.”
“Thanks, Gramps.” Ten more steps to go, one foot after the other. I slip out of my wet suit and drop onto the bed. Sleep comes instantly.
The screeching alarm clock interrupts dreams of running from divers before morphing into a dolphin in front of Tyler.
I stumble into the tiny bathroom off my bedroom. “Crap.” In the middle of my ablutions it dawns on me I haven’t done my homework. “Oh well.” I’ll have to beg forgiveness and turn it in late, an automatic grade drop. I dress, and hurry to the kitchen, my stomach rumbling like a freight train. My mouth waters at the scent of oatmeal and coffee.
“Thanks, Gramps.” I drop into my seat and take a swig of coffee. My world rights the moment I swallow the hot caffeine. I turn my attention to my oatmeal.
Gramps lets me get halfway through before he queries, “Anything happen last night?” He folds the morning paper and sets it aside.
“You don’t miss much do you?” I smile and devour another couple of bites.
His movements stiff, he picks up my bowl, fills it up, and sets it in front of me.
“Thanks, Gramps.” I sip my coffee. “I went back to the boat. They’d caught another dolphin. This time when I freed it a diver came after me.” I don’t mention the shark. No point putting my only relative on sensory overload.
He sits down, folds his hands. “And?” His voice and mannerism are calm but he can’t hide the worry in his eyes.
“The dolphin acted as a buffer and I got away. The diver followed me but he couldn’t keep up,” I mumble around a mouthful of oatmeal. I’m finally losing that hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. I glance at the clock. “Got to run, or I’ll be late for school. Don’t worry, okay?” I shove back from the table, kiss the top of his head, and bolt.
Beulah and I roar down the hill in a cloud of white exhaust. I pull into the parking lot and slow when I see an open spot next to Fahrenbacher’s muscle car, shrug and drive to the next row where there are several parking spaces. I have enough irons in the fire—such as dolphins—to worry about, without adding a pissed-off Fahrenbacher into the mix.
After getting out of the truck, I trot into school. Tyler’s waiting inside the foyer. He disentangles himself from his entourage and steps forward, a wide smile on his face. He reaches for my hand. I yank it back. “What are you doing?”
He rolls his eyes. “That’s what people do who go together.”
My head swivels in his direction. I can only hope the tinted glasses hide my anxiety. From the look on his face, maybe not. In between saving dolphins and being attacked by divers and sharks, this couple thing is a lot to deal with. Not that I intend to mention any of the many complications in my life to my new boyfriend.
“Not us. No one is supposed to know, remember?” Hadn’t he agreed to that? I frown, trying to remember. You’d think I’m Gramps’ age and having a senior moment instead of a teenager. Actually, Gramps’ memory is twice as good as mine.
“I was hoping we’d gotten past that.” He falls into step beside me as I hurry down the hall, waiting for the sound of the bell.
“Gotten past it? We only became an item last night.” I look around to make sure no one hears.
“Ashamed of me, huh?” he teases.
Ashamed of him? If he only knew. I’d love to hang a banner in the gym that says in big bold letters Tyler Carlisle is Piper’s guy. But given the fact he doesn’t know I’m a mutant, that’s really not an option. “Will you stop?” I rush into the classroom and head for my spot in the back of the classroom, beside his sister.
Sitting with Holly is almost as bad. She’s nearly as popular as her brother. But no one thinks too much about our association, probably because Holly is nice to everyone.
I slide into my seat and plop my book bag onto the chair’s left-handed arm. Tyler sinks into the seat beside me.
“Go away,” I whisper.
He makes a point to look around. “No seats available.”
“What about that one on the front row?”
“Looks like Ted Johnson just snagged it.” He gives me an unrepentant look.
Holly watches us curiously.
Miss Sweeney walks in, putting an end to the bickering.
I stare straight ahead and try to concentrate, but it’s an effort in futility. Tyler’s legs are spread in that classic way males have of taking up their leg space and that of the person next to them. Our knees touch. I inch away, doing my best to ignore how such casual contact overloads my circuits and sends a sharp charge of electricity along my nerve endings.
Out of the corner of my eye, I glance at Tyler. If he’s aware of his impact on me he certainly doesn’t show it.
It doesn’t help that Holly keeps eyeing us with a smug expression on her pretty face. Has he told her or hasn’t he?
The only positive in the entire fifty minutes is Miss Sweeney doesn’t call on me. One has to appreciate blessings no matter how small.
The minute the bell rings, I jump up and make a dash for the hall. Or try to. Holly stands in my way. I nudge her aside with a well-placed elbow.
Tyler looks like he has every intention of following me until one of his admirers steps in and clutches his arm. Should I be jealous? I’m too relieved to worry about it. I bolt with Holly at my heels.
“So,” Holly begins.
“Don’t say a word.”
“But…”
“Not a word.”
She grumbles beside me, arms clasp around her books, as we scurry to our next class. For the rest of the day I only see Tyler at a distance, always surrounded by a bevy of pretty giggling girls. Once when he catches me looking, he winks at me before turning his attention to the redhead at his elbow.
Holly hears me mutter under my breath. “I’m not saying a word,” she responds.
I roll my eyes and bump into my nemesis.
“Carlisle’s not going to be around all the time,” he warns and knocks against my shoulder hard enough to make me wince.
I feel heat behind my eyes and get in his face. “Bring it on, Fahrenbacher. Any time, any place.”
He throws back his head and blinks. He stares at me and I stare back. A slow grin spreads across his face and for the first time I understand his appeal—in an abstract way. “Maybe you’re not such a mouse after all. I like a female with spirit.” He chucks me under the chin. Before I can bat his hand away, he drops it and saunters off.
Open-mouthed, I stare after him, shaking my head, and wondering if the whole world has run mad.
Eyes wide, Holly watches him walk away. A broad smile splits her face. “You go, girl.”