Jess washes ashore on an island and comes across a rather unusual specimen. "Promise you won't judge me?"

All Jessica remembered was blue. The color had surrounded her like a cloak, suspending her in a chilly silence. It was as if all her limbs were attached to strings, and she was the ocean's plaything. The waves tossed and turned her and, being the limp and unconscious ragdoll she was, there was nothing she could do but let it carry her some distance.

Jess hadn't been counting on stupid Josh losing control of the sailboat. She'd been the only one he could convince to go out on the water with him. One minute they were drifting peacefully, her fingers skimming the sea's murky surface; then the next, they were engaged in a vicious wrestle match with the sails. The sting of rope burn still sizzled on her red and raw palms, but that was nothing compared to the state of the rest of her body.

She washed onto some shore a long while later like a piece of dead seaweed. Flat against the sand and weighed down by a once-cute waterlogged sundress, Jess struggled to sit up and examine her surroundings.

In front of her was the classic island-in-the-middle-of-nowhere. Lush green undergrowth and palm trees covered a large expanse of the land, and the remainder was sand. Fairly wide streams of water stretched far into the island, slicing through the sand. When she turned around, the only sight there to greet her was the pale blue sky meeting the dark blue sea at an uneven, stormy horizon line.

Next she looked down at herself. It was funny, really, how much she'd always admired the Pacific Ocean from afar. But once it'd been given the chance to play with her, it completely and unabashedly ruined any adoration she once held for it.

Her sundress, as noted before, had gone from a light and airy yellow patterned piece of adorableness to a sodden rag. She might as well have been wearing a soaked brown paper bag, and no one could tell the difference. Her phone was long gone, likely having went down with Josh's ridiculous "manly" sailboat. Her nails were ragged— the Pacific had nibbled away at her magenta manicure with zero shame— and grit was caked in every crevice. She only had one shoe left— a simple sandal that was clinging onto her foot by one measly strap. She unclipped it and left it to be lapped up by the greedy waters, figuring there was no point going on with uneven steps.

As it turned out, however, she didn't need mismatched footwear in order to achieve uneven steps. When she tried to stand fully, her right leg just staggered forward and her knee was sent crashing back into the sand. This brought on an unexpected bite of pain, and suddenly sand crystals were the sharpest little shits in the world.

It was only once she'd wiped away some clumps of saltwater-scented hair that she uttered her first words spoken in hours. "Fuck… me…" Jess panted. Then her other knee fell into the sand and the rest of her soon followed.

When she awoke, it was most certainly not in the same place as before. Ahead of opening her eyes, she made sure to twitch every finger and toe to ensure she was still all in one piece. Then, ever so slowly, she peeled open one eye.

Through the hazy filter of shock and exhaustion marring her vision, it appeared she was in some type of alcove. Smooth stone walls stretched up around her, and warm water repeatedly reached in to tickle her elbow before receding again.

She forced herself upward, grunting as dull pain gnawed at every single one of her bones. As her vision gradually cleared, Jess noticed that she was no longer wearing the wet sundress. Her body was now completely naked under a thin layer of seaweed that had been woven into a blanket or cover of some sort.

With all this change of surroundings, it perplexed her to realize she was alone. Someone had obviously messed with her. Yet when she tested her horribly dry throat by calling out "Hello?", nobody materialized.

Her gaze shifted down to the water. It was closing in again, tugging gently at the edges of the sand basin to her left. This calm little finger of the ocean planted another kiss on her elbow, then retreated once more.

Jess would have marveled at the beauty and tranquility this alcove offered, if it weren't for the head that suddenly popped up from the swirling water.

"Wh—" she sputtered, leaping back as best as she could without dislodging the seaweed blanket.

The head smirked at her. It belonged to a very attractive girl who was probably around her age. Sleek black hair was plastered to her head and neck, and two coffee-colored gems peered at Jess with a calculated curiosity. As she lifted herself further out of the water, well-toned shoulders were revealed. She rested the weight of her upper body on her arms, which had enough muscle alone to knock Mike Munroe out cold.

"Well, hello there," the girl murmured. "Guess you finally decided to wake up and tell me what you're doing on my turf."

"On your…" Jess coughed, her throat screaming for the kind of water that didn't have salt. "… turf?"

"That's right. To be honest, I almost couldn't believe it when I saw your bony ass wash up on my shore. Thought you were a piece of sea trash or something at first, then I saw you move and stumble around like a legless crab, so I realized you were really an intruder coming to encroach on my land and disturb my peace. I would've left you to fry in the sun, but I didn't want your rotting carcass blemishing my island, so…" She drummed her nails on a half-eroded rock. "Tell me, intruder, what are you doing here?"

Jess narrowed her eyes as she processed this information. "Your island?" she rasped after a minute. "No one just owns an island."

The girl tilted her head. "What, you wanna see a goddamn deed to the island or something? It's mine. They say I'm a personification of the island, after all. How could it not belong to me?"

At the moment, Jess was thinking more along the lines of this girl being a personification of the ocean. Hurtful and snappy.

She tried to say something in retaliation, but her throat had given out. She grasped in the air, mouthing "water" over and over again. The girl rolled her eyes and weakly splashed some of the saltwater at her.

"This water?" she asked, feigning confusion.

Jess shook her head vigorously, pointing at her mouth and tacking on "fresh" in front of "water." Freshwater, freshwater, freshwater…

"Could've at least said please," the girl grumbled before she disappeared back under the water. Jess watched the surface ripple in her wake. Not even five minutes went by before the stranger had returned with a shell full of what was, thankfully, salt-free water. Jess accepted it eagerly, pressing her chapped lips to the shell and slurping the serving down.

"Thank you," she gasped. "Now, look, I… I don't know where I am. I was on a boat with my friend and there was a storm and I… we got separated."

"Aw, that's cute," said the girl. "Now tell me the truth."

Jess sat up more, clutching the seaweed to her bare chest. "First, you tell me what you did with my clothes."

The girl gritted her teeth. "I stripped them off you because you would've frozen in that skimpy yellow thing you were wearing. It was soaked through." She hesitated, and that sinful smirk played at the corners of her lips again. "Nice bod, by the way."

"I— well, I could say the same to you!" Jess blurted out because she wasn't sure what else to say.

The girl looked just as surprised as Jess felt. Her jaw fell open slightly, then she chuckled. "I don't think you want to say that."

"Why not?"

"Doesn't matter. Now, we need to do something about that hair." Jess didn't miss the smooth transition to a different subject, but she decided not to object. This girl seemed far more defiant and stubborn than Jess had ever been in her life.

She took the bait. "What do you have in mind?" The stranger wasn't wrong; her hair was truly an atrocity at the moment. It was frizzed and knotted after being freely subjected to the ocean's torment for who-knows-how-long. It had dried into a semi-solid, crusty rats' nest that made her cringe just touching it.

"Sea foam," the girl said simply. "Really, try it. It's a great exfoliator and it detangles anything." She thrust a handful of the stuff in Jessica's face, but the blonde turned up her nose.

"It stinks!"

"That's the price you must pay for beauty. Come on."

Jess grimaced as she accepted the sea foam and slopped it onto her head. She could only use one hand to massage it into her scalp, as the other had to be used to hold up her weird seaweed cover-up.

"Just let it sit then rinse it out, and your hair will be good as new," the girl told her.

"Thanks." Jess paused, receding her hand from her head and flicking away the remnants of the unusual conditioner. "Sooo… my name's Jess. What's yours?"

The stranger frowned, genuine distrust flickering over her gorgeous features, but then she caved. "Emily," she said.

"Oh! That's a pretty name," Jess commented.

"Yeah…"

"So, Emily, why exactly are you out here on this island? Do you have a family here or something? Friends? Any other people at all?"

"Sure, I have a family. But they live… far away."

Jess bit her lip as the conversation trickled to a stop. Emily looked withdrawn now, and Jess didn't want to probe at any possible sore spots. She swallowed and, at last, said, "Um… do you want to get out of the water? I'm literally a prune and only my toes are touching it. I can move over, I mean… I— sorry, I should've offered earlier, you got me freshwater and everything—"

Emily cut off her rambling with a curt head shake. "No, I think it's best if I stay in the water."

Jess couldn't help the question as it rolled off her tongue on instinct. "Why?"

"You don't want to know."

"Hey, you don't know that. I do want to know. What's wrong?"

Emily gave one of her signature eye rolls. "Ugh, fiiine. Promise you won't judge me?"

"I promise."

And then Jess was dazzled by a sparkle of turquoise. At first glance she thought it was a fish emerging from the water behind Emily, but then she realized it was not a fish at all. Complete with shimmering blue-green scales that tapered into neat little fins, this girl had a freaking tail.

"You're a…" Jess was at a complete loss for words. After a few too-long, stammering seconds, she found them. "You're a mermaid."

"No shit I'm a mermaid," Emily grunted, flopping her tail back in the water. "And so, because of that lovely little condition of mine, I am not permitted to leave the water. Doing that means I die."

"Wow, really?"

"Yep. I'll suffocate and shrivel up like your stupid human skin does when it's in water for too long. Even if I could, hypothetically, leave the ocean, I still wouldn't be able to walk." She gestured to Jess. "You have those slender human legs of yours. You can leave whenever you want."

Jess snorted. "Are you kidding? Where am I supposed to go? Do you expect me to just walk over the ocean back to California like I'm Jesus or something? I might be stuck here for a while."

Emily inched closer. "Does 'a while' mean forever?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

Jess grinned mischievously. "Find me better clothes than just seaweed, please. This stuff is super itchy. Then we'll talk."

Emily did not say a word before disappearing under the water again. Jess crawled forward, watching the sun glint off the scales of Em's tail as she swam away. How didn't she notice before?

She didn't trust this mermaid completely yet. How could she? They had only just met.

But Jess had a strong, lingering feeling that she would come to like this Emily— and that feeling wasn't leaving anytime soon.

She could get used to being lost at sea.