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I’M FURIOUS! I can hear Shelley talking as I wave quick goodbye to Bradley and he drives away.
Storming up the wooden steps to Shelley’s dead aunt’s beach house, I barge through the door. “What the hell!”
Shelley and her stupid boyfriend, Henry, in his wheelchair, stare blankly at me.
I huff at Shelley. “Where were you? Did you know I was lost at sea, trapped on a deserted beach? I had no food, no water, no escape. You’re supposed to be my best friend. Why didn’t you alert anyone? Why weren’t you looking for me?”
Henry drops a shirt he was folding into his lap and moves his hands wildly at Shelley—talking to her with a whipping distortion of bending fingers and wrists and Shelley turns to question me.
“Where’s Orphelius?”
“Orphelius? Who the fuck is Orphelius?”
“You passed out. Orphelius took you with him. Henry says you were perfectly safe.”
Ugh. I’m fuming!
“Safe? Safe!” I look at Henry. “Don’t tell me you’re talking about the man with the tentacles,” I groan deeply.
Henry grins bashfully like he’s trying to be cute with his pretty blue eyes and he nods.
I can’t believe this shit! I remember seeing Henry turn into a merman right before he went to rescue his redheaded, green-eyed girlfriend—MY best friend. I recall seeing his legs fuse together once he hit the water and a huge tail unfolded as I heard his bones crack and morph while his skin melted into a mesh of blue-green scales that could only come from the ocean’s deep. It looked painful and it was gross.
I feel queasy.
Shelley drops a piece of clothing she has in her hand and rushes at me to put her arm under mine. “Maybe you should sit down. I know this is a lot to take in,” she says.
My eyes wander back to Henry; he stares back, but I do not allow the uncontrollable twitch of my suspicious gaze to turn away as Shelley sits me down on the fluffy old sofa that looks like her aunt patchworked at least a dozen times.
I detest that fucking sofa. The two of them—Henry and Shelley, are always making out on it.
Henry crinkles his brow and he looks like he wants to talk but nothing comes out. I used to feel sorry for him, but I don’t anymore. He’s a sneaky fucker who’s stolen my best friend with his mysterious mythological bullshit, but I’m no dummy. I believe Henry is trying to pawn me off like an offering and serve me up to his beastly freak friend like I’m a piece of sushi so he can take full possession of Shelley and make her do everything for him.
Henry claps his hands to get Shelley’s attention and he signs to her.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she responds back to him.
“Hey!” I snap. “What’s not a good idea?” I hate that I can’t understand sign language.
Shelley pulls her wavy, strawberry blonde hair behind her ear and sits next me. “Henry wants me to read your palm, but I don’t think I should.”
It really pisses me off that I can’t understand their conversations, especially when I know they’re talking about me.
Nudging Shelley hard with my elbow, I lay my palm in her lap. “Why would Henry want you to read my hand? And why won’t you? You’re supposed to be my best friend. I’m not saying I believe in all that cosmic mumbo jumbo. Your aunt was probably just exceptional at being a con, but I don’t understand why you won’t even take a stab it. Even if it’s just for fun. All we ever used to do was have fun together. But lately, all you do is shy away from anything fun unless it smells fishy, which stinks, so I can’t help but wonder what the fuck keeps you from having fun with me anymore. All you ever want to do is let fish man play with your coconuts like you’re Brooke Shields from the Blue Lagoon. After everything we’ve been through, I don’t understand why you’re so attached to him and how you could easily leave me—leave me out there with that beast!”
Shelley massages her temple. “I didn’t leave you.”
“Yes, you did! You left me to be kidnapped by a monster and you didn’t even come looking for me.”
“Orphelius is not a monster,” she cries with a whine while Henry rolls his chair closer and moves his hands with excessive agitation trying to talk to her.
“Shut up!” I snap.
Henry drops his hands in his lap.
I look to Shelley. “I just don’t understand. The tentacle man—he’s huge! We should be talking about him like he’s a big deal, but he seems to be no big deal to you. Yet, you won’t do something as simple as read my palm to tell me my future? What is the big deal about that?”
Shelley turns pale. Blood seems to have drained from her head and the clash of color against her red hair makes her look like a ghost. She sighs as she reaches for my hand to squeeze it. “Because it’s not your future I fear your hand will reveal to you but your past.”
