viii.

Lewis was not excited about finding his power.

He might have been were it not for the ridiculous timing. But the water fates seemed to have conspired against him, and decided to manifest his strange new abilities on the day of his picnic with Cleo.

He had meant for it to be a date; a sort of easing into the possibility of them being more than friends, but when he woke up to find a giant water growth dangling inches from his face, originating from the glass of water on his bedside table and trapping him sufficiently until for no conceivable reason it shrank back into the glass, he let all romantic notions slip from his mind as he concentrated on just one thing; getting his powers under control.

He was used to awkward showers by now. Through a step-by-step process in a sitting position, he could manage to clean portions of himself at a time before drying off from his stack of towels and moving on to the next ten second interval. His brothers would have mocked his thoroughness, but it was more in the interest of experimentation than cleanliness that he insisted on washing himself in human form. He was becoming quite proficient in remembering his notes until he could make it to his writing implements.

Dipping his head, he meant to start with his hair but the water from the showerhead took an unnatural trajectory, shooting straight up at the ceiling about four inches from the spout. It took him a few seconds to figure out what had happened. Somehow he was moving the water around him without intending to. Unfortunately, he couldn't make it go where he wanted when he was trying. Even his determination for the scientific cause flagged after five to ten more minutes of unsuccessful attempts to direct the water back into a straight stream.

It wasn't just that he redirected the water, either. The water seemed to expand around him. Lewis chuckled darkly. He had wanted to experiment with Mako Island water samples, and he certainly had enough strange phenomenons from one dip in the moon pool to deal with for a lifetime.

Thankfully, it was only Larry to be careful of in the kitchen as his older brother shuffled around in his boxers to find breakfast. Larry wasn't the sharpest first thing in the morning, and the rest of his brothers who hadn't moved out yet were either getting a head start on their weekend or fast asleep in their shared rooms.

Larry didn't notice when the pillar of water grew from the sink faucet and made its way into Lewis's glass. Lewis refused to drink it out of spite. He dumped it back out and hurried to the closet to grab a few blankets for the picnic.

He came very close to calling it off. He actually fingered the speed dial that would connect him to Cleo in order to fake sickness. He was terrified of letting his problem show while out with her, but he knew how hard she would take it and it wasn't worth the risk. He knew if he blew it this time, she was likely to withdraw like a pestered turtle and getting another chance with her would not be easy. He still remembered the three months of silence between her and Emma when Emma forgot her birthday sleepover in favour of a swim meet.

It was better to go on the picnic. But in doing so he would take every precaution not to let his freakishness show. He thought maybe covering his eyes would help. If he couldn't see the water, maybe it wouldn't mutate around him.

It sort of worked! Until he dropped the bottle of suntan lotion and the spillage came out as perfectly round bubbles rather than a puddle on the carpet.

Still, he kept the shades on. It felt safer, even if it didn't really help.

She was so pretty, he thought, when she opened the door to admit him. He had always thought her pretty; even when he was six and the only girls he thought of beyond cootie-ridden pests were his mum and some of the fairy tale princesses. He didn't think he'd ever told her. He should tell her. Later, so it wouldn't be weird in front of her family.

He was scared of taking the basket from her. He was almost certain the liquid contents of any containers, sealed or no, were bound to come exploding out the moment he let his guard down. He gingerly took it, holding his breath against the disasters he foresaw.

He was so concerned with the impending doom within the basket that he almost failed to hear Kim's teasing outburst.

"Have fun on your date!"

The words hadn't sunk in until Cleo had hurried him out and they were already heading toward the well worn path to the beach.

She was nervously twirling the end of her braid and chewing on the side of her lip. He kept casting sideways glances at her, telling himself he was going to make a joke about Kim calling it a date and gauge her reaction. In just a few more seconds... After they were far enough from the house...

Cleo squared her shoulders and bounced on her feet a little. "Don't worry about Kim. She says stuff just to get under my skin. I didn't tell anyone we were going on a date." She blushed furiously and tried to backtrack. "Not that this is a date! I mean, I didn't call it... we're just hanging out! We do all the time. Just two friends. Hanging out with lunch. Right?"

Beneath the shades, Lewis's eyes squinted into a frown. "Yeah, no worries. Larry called it a date, too. I get it."

"He did?" she questioned a little too eagerly. And she was smiling, but he tried not to read into it too much. "I mean... there are friendship dates, too. It doesn't have to mean... you know."

"Yeah," he said without any conviction, and before he had mustered up the guts to speak his mind, they'd arrived at the shaded area that was far enough from the shore to prevent any accidents with water. Unless, of course, they came from the picnic supplies. Lewis pushed the thought away, trying not to spoil the afternoon before it had begun.

For a while, things were almost normal. Lewis broke the awkwardness with a meaningless comment that somehow managed to make Cleo laugh, and they were back to being best friends with no crippling secrets or uncertain labels between them. Hours passed in natural conversation and the consumption of all sandwiches except the sardines, until Lewis slipped.

Cleo was fiddling with the cap of her water bottle as she watched a family in the distance fly a kite. Her head was turned so that he just caught her profile, and saw her cheeks puff out just a little as she filled them with air absentmindedly.

"You're so pretty," he blurted without thinking.

Cleo's head snapped to attention, and she blinked at him, doubting what she just heard. Lewis knew it was a chance that could possibly never come to him again, and he swallowed thickly before stating, "I've always thought you were pretty."

Cleo turned red for the third time that day and kept her eyes on the blanket as she asked, "Pretty like, you wouldn't mind me as a sister pretty, or...?"

"No," he said with surprising confidence. "Pretty like I hope this is a date pretty. A real date. Between... more than just friends."

"Lewis!" she leaned towards him, placing her hand on top of his as her face exploded into a smile.

It was a simple touch that he was very familiar with. There had been plenty of occasions for him to take Cleo's hand, whether to help her over treacherous beachside rocks or to paint her nails when she didn't want to do it herself. But this time, the contact sent a thrill through him. A thrill that turned immediately to dread as the top of Cleo's bottle went flying off in a spray of water that doused Lewis in its wake.

He jumped to his feet, frantically searching the shore for a place to hide. Cleo looked up in confusion and concern. "What just happened?"

A false explanation of water pressure and the angle at which she'd been holding her bottle was on the tip of his tongue, but as he felt his legs grow wobbly, he thought it more important to dive into the nearby brush rather than make something up using his store of scientific jargon.

As he sat in the bushes, hoping desperately that he was positioned in way that would hide the huge problem of his shimmering tail, Cleo crept closer. "Lewis. Are you okay?"

He opened his mouth to answer her, but promptly shut it again, discovering with a sudden twisting in his chest that he was about to cry.

This had to be the worst first date in history.

But at least, he thought with a sad smile, it was a date.

A/N: Awwww, poor Lewis! If only he wasn't a hideous creature from the ocean depths, this wouldn't be a problem and he and Cleo could have a nice, normal relationship. Or cooould they? :P How I love turning the tables on them! I think I still feel more sorry for Cleo and her total confusion. I'm not sure what I would think if a guy dove into some bushes every time I tried to get close. But now my first theory would be merman!