By the end of this chapter, some of you may think I actually believe in mermaids. Maybe I do. Who knows? Twilight and its characters all belong to Stephanie Meyer.
After I found myself alone on the shore, I looked around for any signs of my rescuer—for Bella. The rain hardened the sand, so it retained shapes like clay, and in it, I found a handprint, much smaller than my own, to the left of where my head had been, and two more right beside the water's edge. But there were no footprints anywhere, like the other person—like Bella—had gone back into the water.
I tried to walk up and down the shore a few times, hoping to find her, but it was getting dark and my recent drowning experience had left me more than a little nauseous, so I had to stop my search sooner than I would have wanted. My three-mile walk home looked like a walk of shame—I had taken off both my shirt and my shoes before I had run into the water, so I was bare-chested and barefooted.
When I was finally home, I was relieved to find an empty house. I had zero desire to explain to any of my family members why I was half-naked, and even less desire to explain why I was hunched over the toilet. After my bout of nausea had finally passed, I took a long shower hot enough to cook me like a lobster and I crawled into bed, tired and sore and utterly confused.
Despite my fatigue, I laid in the darkness for a long time, listening to my family members return home one at a time, and then for several more hours in complete silence. Silence and waves crashing in the distance.
Every time I closed my eyes, I pictured the dark figure swimming towards me in the water: arms stretched out in front and tail swishing behind.
And then Bella was beside me.
And then Bella was gone.
There was no logical explanation, but I found myself pulling out the laptop Esme had gotten me for school, opening an Incognito browser, and typing "Mermaids" into the search bar.
First, I found the legends. Traditions concerning half-human and half-fish creatures in hundreds of folklore for thousands of years. The Babylonian deity Era was depicted as having a body like a man, but from the waist downwards had the shape of a fish. Greek mythology contained stories of the god Triton, the merman messenger of the sea. Hindus worshiped their mermaid goddess to this day.
Next, I found the stories. It looked like the reality of mermaids was assumed during medieval times, when they were depicted matter-of-factly alongside known aquatic animals such as whales. From what I read, sailors and residents in coastal towns around the world told stories of encountering mermaids. Christopher Columbus wrote that he had seen three mermaids rise out of the water while exploring the Caribbean. Henry Hudson had seen a mermaid in the Hudson River, writing that he admired her long, black hair. Even Captain John Smith saw a mermaid "swimming about with all possible grace," and claimed to have fallen in love with her. The stories I read from Scotland and Wales were even more promising; they included the mermaid's ability to be seen as human on land, where mermaids befriended and even married humans.
Finally, I found the believers. Conspiracy theorists who believed mermaids were real to this day. All of these blogs listed the same facts: only ten percent of our oceans have been explored leaving mermaids plenty of room to hide, there's a bounty put up by some Asian government for proof that mermaids exist, and something about finding both human and fish bones in the digestive system of a whale—like they couldn't have eaten a human and a fish. Most of them contained the same photoshopped images of dead mermaid bodies watched up on beaches or the obviously animated video of a fake mermaid sighting in India.
A surprising amount of the blogs were clearly written by horny, lonely men. These blogs talked about mermaids using their voices to lure men into falling in love with them to do their bidding. However, our heroes were too intelligent and masculine to fall under the mermaid's evil, female spells, and instead put the mermaids under their spell, so the mermaids fell in love with them. From that point, it typically got graphic, and I would have to close out of the tab. Other blogs had lumped mermaids in with creatures like werewolves and vampires, depicting them as bloodthirsty, flesh-eating monsters. These blog writers claimed to have seen a loved one dragged into the ocean by humanoid creatures, never to be seen again.
Too soon, the sun poked its head over the horizon. I had spent the entire night lost in Wikipedia articles, ancient mythology, medieval folklore, and conspiracy blogs. I shut my laptop and slid it to the edge of the bed. I laid back down, rubbing my eyes with the palms of my hands, trying to figure out what any of that had to do with Bella. Staring up at my ceiling paneled with shiplap, I considered what I knew.
I was drowning. Someone or something had pulled me out of the water. The figure swimming towards me in those final moments had arms. Not stubby, little flippers on a manatee, or a seal, or whatever else scientists liked to claim people mistook for mermaids. Real, human arms reaching out for me. And when I was safely on the sand, Bella was there. I hadn't seen her, but I knew it was her, resting her head against my chest. No one else would have lips as perfect as Bella's, and what I had felt were those lips.
I had fallen asleep before I had reached a conclusion.
When I awoke, I was starving. It was now the middle of the day and I wandered downstairs into the kitchen to find some lunch. Esme had two moods on Sundays: baking every dessert known to man or refusing to touch a spatula. It appeared to be the latter because the kitchen was empty and clean and there was nothing setting or resting or cooling in the fridge. We never had any leftovers or even leftover ingredients because Esme meal-prepped the perfect amount to satisfy each member of the family. All I could find was a box of cereal and some milk, so I poured myself a bowl and plopped down in the dining nook.
"Hey Edward, I—," Alice started as she walked into the kitchen.
When I turned to greet her, she stopped dead in her tracks.
"You look awful," she grimaced.
Just what every pretty, young man wanted to hear to start his day. "Thanks. I couldn't sleep last night."
She sat in the booth across from me. "Thinking about Isabella?"
"Sort of."
"I've been thinking about her, too."
"Yeah?"
Alice nodded, "I talked to all of my friends about the whole thing last night and—"
"Alice!" I was appalled that she would immediately talk about my personal business with an entire crew of people I didn't know.
"What? I didn't use any names!"
"Oh good. Now, they'll have no idea which mute girl and which of your newest adopted brothers you were talking about."
"Oh my god, Edward, I obviously made it vague enough that they wouldn't know. Do you really think I would be that stupid?"
"I'll let you know when I when decide," I grumbled.
She crossed her arms on the table and leaned in, "Do you want to know what we decided or not?"
"Sure," I mirrored her movement, "Let's hear it."
Alice paused a second before speaking to build up the anticipation. "We decided that she got her period and had to leave immediately to get protection because she was wearing a dress and was too embarrassed to tell you about it and that's why she's been avoiding you."
I stared at her for a moment or two, waiting to see if she was being serious, "That's it?"
"Well…" Alice glanced around the room, "yeah."
"What are we, in seventh grade?"
She snorted, "I don't know what you want me to say. It makes the most sense. From everything you said, the girl obviously likes you, so she wouldn't just ditch you without a decent explanation. And it needs to be embarrassing enough that she wouldn't want to talk to you about it. We talked about a lot of embarrassing things it could be, but I didn't think you'd want to hear about explosive diarrhea or projectile vomiting."
I put down my spoon. "Come on, Alice," I complained, gagging a little. "My mouth was full."
Her smile was smug. "Thought so."
I glared back at her and risked another bite of cereal. Alice's theory did match up with what I knew of Bella's character. Nothing about her seemed cruel or malicious, so I knew she wouldn't have ditched me without a good reason. Bella could also be quite shy at times and might want to hide something embarrassing from me. Something embarrassing, or something secret. Like, secretly being a mermaid.
"We did come to another conclusion," Alice continued. "One without any bodily functions."
Her tone implied that I wasn't going to like what she was about to say, but I gestured for her to go on.
"You can't just go back to this girl. You can be the one to approach her because she's probably ashamed for what she did and scared that you're angry with her..."
"I'm not angry with her." And it wasn't from lack of trying, either. I simply didn't have it in me.
"I know," Alice frowned at that. "Edward, she's going to need a good, honest reason for ditching you, and she's going to have to apologize and mean it. If she doesn't do both of those things, and you take her back anyway, you risk getting hurt again. Maybe even more than you are now."
That was true, too. It didn't matter how much I missed her, I couldn't just swallow any excuse Bella gave me and hope nothing like this would happen again.
"Just make sure she's still someone you would want to start a relationship with." Alice drummed her fingers on the table before standing up, "Let me know if you want help on what to say." Then, her smile turned mocking, "we can set up a conference call with all of my friends to talk about Edwin and Isabelle."
I flung some milk off my spoon at her, and she squealed and scurried away. When I was alone, I slumped back against the booth and stared down at my bowl.
Did I still want a relationship with Isabella Swan? At best, she was flakey and a little odd. At worst, she wasn't human.
I thought I had already mentally prepared myself for the worst. When I learned of Bella's mutism, I prepared myself to learn that Bella had suffered through one of hundreds of terrifying pasts. And not one of them stopped me from wanting her.
Of course, the two of us being different species was something entirely different. Was that where I would draw the line?
I didn't think so.
For even now, there was nothing I wanted more than her soft, comforting presence beside me. I wanted to look into her expressive eyes and pick out the words she couldn't speak. I wanted to brush the sweet bow of her lip with my thumb.
I was too far gone. I wanted her.
If there was any chance Bella was a mermaid, and her abrupt departure had anything to do with it, I could take her back. Easily. Leaving our date to protect her identity as a supernatural creature that wasn't supposed to exist was a damn good excuse.
But she wouldn't be able to give me that excuse herself, it obviously had to stay a secret. If I could prove that it was the case—even just to myself—it would be enough to allow me to take her back, no matter what story she told me when I saw her again.
With that decided, I became a man on a mission. I finished up my cereal and put everything away to Esme's standards. Back in my room, I opened another Incognito browser and narrowed my search to "How to Know If Someone Is a Mermaid." Immediately, I scrolled past the links that I had already looked at the night before. Three pages into the search, I found one website that looked promising. There were no clickbait pictures that were obviously photoshopped or clipart sea creatures on a water-themed background. Just a clean, well-designed website.
The top of the front page featured a bio of the author. Seeing himself as a scientist first and a monster-hunter second, he finds supernatural creatures and merely observes them from afar in their day-to-day lives so he can warn others of what to look for themselves. Below the bio was tabs for multiple supernatural creatures, from angels to vampires. I clicked on a few of the tabs, checking to see if he was a raving lunatic, or actually competent. All of his descriptions and advice seemed pretty straightforward. Does your demon go to church? Does your werewolf wear silver jewelry?
Halfway through the posts, I decided this guy seemed legit and briefly worried that maybe I was becoming a raving lunatic. Before I could talk myself out of it, I clicked on the tab for mermaids. The top of the page had a brief history, with some of the same facts I had read in other blogs. Further down the page, he had written out a checklist, for readers to test and see if they have, in fact, encountered a mermaid.
Are you near an ocean? Mermaids must live near a body of saltwater, for they cannot live in their human forms for longer than a few days. If you are inland, you are most likely not dealing with a mermaid.
Alright, check. We were in LA and next to the Pacific Ocean.
Check their diet. Mermaids feed on human flesh. Offer your subject several types of food on different occasions. If they consistently deny your offering or do not eat your offering in front of you, you may be dealing with a mermaid. See also: Vampires.
Well, that was a no; I had seen Bella eat human food before. I frowned. I had seen her eat raw fish. Not exactly human flesh, but not entirely normal, either. A sea creature could probably eat other sea creatures, right? And since there's not exactly any fire in the ocean, it couldn't be cooked. Thus, the sashimi she ate in front of me. I kept reading.
Use water. The most effective test is to simply get your subject wet. Mermaids will be forced back into their supernatural form when a portion of their skin comes into contact with water.
That didn't work, either. I had seen Bella get wet the day that jerk James threw her into the pool.
No.
I reconsidered.
During our first interaction in the library, she had an extreme reaction to the water I spilled on her desk to get her attention. She had jumped back more forcefully than I would have expected anyone to.
In our run-in with James, I had gotten to her before she had been tossed in the pool.
Right before she left on our date, we were warned that it was going to rain.
And it proceeded to rain every afternoon since then.
"Rosalie?" I suddenly called out, even though I didn't expect a response, sitting here, alone in my room. I launched up from my bed and ran over to her room.
"What the hell, Edward?" Rosalie demanded when I burst through her bedroom door. It took me a second too late to realize I should have knocked first. Thankfully, Rosalie wasn't doing anything incriminating—she was sitting at her desk on her computer.
"Rosalie!" I repeated, rushing to her side.
My sister looked at my frenzied state with distaste. "One sec, guys. My new brother is in here being a freak."
I glanced down and saw that she was in a video chat with several people. I felt my ears get hot, but I had already decided to act like a desperate fool in front of my sister, what were a few more witnesses?
"Rose," I breathed, "Has Isabella Swan been in class in the last two weeks?"
Rosalie removed one earbud and looked me up and down, "So, it's true, huh? When Emmett told me, I thought he was messing with me."
I rolled my eyes, "Come on, Rose. Has she?"
"I don't know."
"How can you not know?"
"I don't know! It's not my job to watch her."
Someone must have said something in her video chat because Rosalie snorted at seemingly nothing. "You would know," she teased whoever it was.
"What?" I demanded.
Rosalie eyed me one more time, "It seems darling Isabella has been out for the past two weeks with the flu."
Out of school every day a large storm was called for. Bella couldn't be in school because she couldn't get wet. Just like she had to leave our date because the storm arrived early, and she needed to get somewhere safe to avoid the rain. She didn't leave and ignore me; her hand was forced in order to protect her identity.
Before I knew what I was doing I pulled Rose's face up and planted a huge kiss on her cheek, "Thank you, Rose! You have no idea what that means to me!"
She dramatically wiped her cheek, "Ew, Edward!"
I turned towards her door, leaving as quickly as I had arrived.
"Seriously, what is wrong with you!?" she called out as I shut her bedroom door behind me.
I rushed back to my room, too excited to move at a normal pace. I opened up my laptop and quickly pulled up the weather forecast for this week. There would be storms every afternoon at the beginning of the week, but Wednesday would be clear and sunny.
Wednesday.
Two more days and I would see her again.
oOo
The next two days simultaneously dragged and passed in a blink of an eye. I was getting more and more anxious to talk to Bella, and I wasn't sure if the anxiety stemmed from my nervousness or my excitement. Tuesday night, I spent far too long pacing back and forth in my room, planning what to say to my mermaid.
Around two o'clock in the morning, I had a decent plan. I decided not to bring up the mermaid thing at all. I would arrive early to school and wait for her in front of her homeroom like she did once to get my attention. If she came up to me, I would swallow any excuse that she offered, but make it clear that she could tell me anything. If she avoided me, I would leave her a note, explaining my peace and inviting her to the library for lunch so we could talk. If she ignored my note, I would accept her rejection, and then with as much dignity as I could muster, I would crawl into the nearest ditch.
Wednesday morning, I woke up late. I almost threw my alarm clock against the wall for allowing me to sleep through it. I couldn't skip a shower and just roll out of bed in sweats because today would the first time I saw Bella in over two weeks. I needed to make sure my hair fell just right and get my clothes the Alice Approval. I wouldn't be able to meet Bella before her homeroom, but I would be able to skip my own and wait outside and talk to her after.
When I got to school, I was miffed, but ultimately unsurprised to find no parking spots. Like I often did whenever I was late, I turned into the hidden, ancillary lot and parked in the last available spot. If I ran to the school, I would be able to make it to her homeroom. But this was LA, and it was already ninety degrees outside, and I absolutely did not want to offer my heart to Bella whilst drenched in sweat.
At this rate, I wouldn't be able to meet up with Bella near or around her homeroom. If I wanted to find her, I would have to skip both my homeroom and my first period to stalk the halls of the North Campus and find her first-period class and wait for her there. Like a stalker. But I didn't have many other options at this point.
As I gathered my stuff, I heard the loud engine of an old Chevy chugging into the parking lot.
I froze.
The first stroke of good luck all day; Bella was late to school today as well. I stayed in my car until I heard her engine shut off. I peeked out my rearview window and saw that she had pulled up onto the grass across from my car. Quietly as I could, I opened my door and stepped out of the Volvo.
Unable to stop myself, I leaned against the side of my car and watched her for a long moment. She stood on the back bumper of her truck with her entire torso under the tarp that covered the bed, searching for something. I stared at her feet, up on their tip-toes, and wondered how often they were morphed into a tail.
Her human feet settled back down onto the bumper and she freed one arm to push on the tailgate and wrench herself out from under her tarp. She stood, shook out her long, mahogany locks—still damp, from her morning swim, perhaps—and pulled her hair back into her standard ponytail.
Although I could look at her all day, I couldn't stand here and watch her any longer. It was time to face my mermaid.
"Bella!"