Ripple

people?

“But . . .”

“Yes?”

“He’s already asking so many questions. He’s not going to stop until he knows the truth. And then when he does, he’ll just leave.” I pause, wincing at the way this sounds when I say it aloud. “If I don’t accidently kill him first.”

“I know.”

“You swear you can fix this?”

My question lingers for a long moment. Finally, he finds the words. “I can’t promise you that you’ll fall in love with me. But I can promise that if you do . . . if we do . . .”

I interrupt him, a new idea dawning in my mind. “Why didn’t one of you guys find my mom? She died for this curse. One of you could have saved her.”

“Like I said before . . . you’re hard to find. It’s not as if you advertise what you are.”

“Yeah, I get that. But why didn’t she know about your existence? My curse dates back two hundred and fifty years, and none of them went looking for you guys?”

He looks up at me from where he sits, still in the mud. “I had hoped you’d be looking for me. But I suppose I’m not surprised. Sirens rarely last long enough to pass on the legend.”

I jerk back and look at him.

“I’m sorry. But it’s the truth. Sirens just don’t seem to handle this as well as nixes. Maybe it’s the difference between men and women. Maybe it’s the difference between our curses. It’s just very hard to find a siren who lives long enough to pass the legend down to her daughter. Nixes, on the other hand, we’ve passed this down for generations. We grow up knowing what is to come. What we need to do before we reach our eighteenth birthday.”

“When is your eighteenth birthday?”

“Twenty-seven days.”

I whirl around and stare at him, my jaw unhinged. “A month? Less than a month?”

He blinks and stares back at his muddy palms. “Yeah. That’s why I was so desperate to find you. Because without you? I have no life.”

When I meet his eyes, I snap my jaw shut. Hope. That’s all I see there. He actually wants to be with me, wants me to realize he’s right. Wants me to save him from the things he’s describing.

I’m always the one to cause pain. I’ve never been the one to save someone from it.

“If I agree to this . . . what comes next?”

When he stands, I cringe at the mud covering his backside. He edges forward, so his shoes hit the edge of the water. He’s so much taller than I am—we stand shoulder to biceps instead of shoulder to shoulder. “We spend some time together. I can’t promise you this will work. But if we fall in love . . .”

A second of silence lingers there, and we stare at each other, a hundred things passing between us. He clears his throat. “If we fall in love, the curses break.”

Somehow, the look in his eyes makes everything inside me unravel. I finally see him for what he is: cursed just like me. Screwed is more like it. He’s after the same thing. He’s hoping that somehow we’re okay. Somehow, we can be what everyone else is.

But he’s just as scared as I am that it won’t work.

“So what ... we just hang out?”

He shrugs again, those perfectly sculpted, Greek-god-size shoulders moving upward. “I guess ... I guess we get to know each other. See if it becomes what it is supposed to.”

I swallow and take a huge step into the water. Strangely though, it doesn’t have its usual calming effect.

My physical need for it abates, but my nerves don’t dissipate. “Okay,” I say. I feel as though I’m losing something beloved and gaining something new. It’s Cole for Erik—and a lifetime of possibility. “Let’s try that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. How could I go on with my life without knowing what this is? Tomorrow, I’ll tell Cole it’s over. We can ... We can try. See where this goes. See if it can be something.”

His grin is so wide, it envelops his face. After the darkness of tonight, it’s like the sun is beating down on me, warming me from the inside out. I want to bask in it, enjoy it forever. Maybe with Erik

. . . maybe I could.

Never have to swim again? We could do anything. Be anyone. I can give up all the drama and truly focus on college. Studies. On being someone.

How can I not want to do that? How can I not try? I have to.

And yet as I accept a hug from Erik, all I feel is my betrayal.

Because I still want Cole.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The next morning, I trudge into the halls of CCH. I know I would have lost Cole eventually, but I am dreading what is to come. In 250 years, none of the sirens in my family has ever had a guy stick by her side when he knew the truth. It’s not like I’m so naïve as to think that Cole would be the first.

Besides, it’s not all about Cole. It’s about everyone within a twenty-mile radius. It’s about the curse and not killing anyone ever again. And it’s also about having a life, a real, normal teenager’s life. The kind of thing I’ve dreamt of for so long.

So, that’s it. I trade one person for everything I’ve ever wanted.

And yet, I don’t know how to tell that to the person staring back at me with the most adoring eyes I’ve ever seen. Every second he stares at me, I hate myself more.

“Cole . . .” My voice trails off to a pitiful whisper.

The smile dies on his face, and he stares at me with a look that says he knows that what comes next won’t be good. He reaches for my hand, and all I can do is pull it away, out of his grip.

“I just think . . .” The words choke in my throat. How can I just dump him when he’s the first guy in two years I’ve cared about? The first guy who could hold a candle to Steven? I force the words. “You’re not the right guy for me. I think we should see other people.” I swallow the boulder in my throat. “I think I want . . . someone . . . more into . . .” I can’t even think of a suitable excuse. There is none for what I’m doing.

Cole cares about me in a way no one else ever has. He believes in me when no one else does.

But he will never be mine. And that’s the only fact that matters.

“So this is what it’s like,” Cole says, staring at me, his expression a mix of anguish and awe.

“What?”

“Being on the wrong side of a breakup.”

My lips part, but I don’t know what to say.

Again, he reaches for my hand. This time I let him hold it for one long, lingering, blissful moment. Then I pull away.

“Don’t do this, Lexi.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. It’s the only truth I’ve spoken. “But we both knew this wouldn’t work.”

“That’s not true! You’re scared and you’re running. You know that’s what this is.” There’s an edge to his voice—a note of panic. He knows he’s already lost.

“I’m sorry, Cole. This was all a mistake,” I say.

“How can you say that?” he asks, his voice now gruff and angry.

I fake anger right back. “Look, just because you’re used to getting what you want, doesn’t mean I’m going to change my mind. So you can quit with the entitlement.” The words, so much like Ice Queen Lexi, escape before I can stop them. I guess I’m still good at masking pain with anger.

When he looks at me, his eyes shine with his pain. I just hit him right where it hurts, insinuated he’s still the