She held her breath and peered into it.
Then she gasped.
A goldfish floated perfectly still inside the toilet bowl.
She couldn’t be sure, but the fish looked an awful lot like Mr. Bubbles. So then . . . how was he here? She recognized the black stripe down its side. It was definitely Mr. Bubbles.
She leaned closer, trying to inspect the fish. On second thought, it probably wasn’t Mr. Bubbles. A lot of goldfish looked alike. But then again, what was a goldfish doing in the toilet in the girls’ bathroom? Was this another Judy Weisberg prank? Or other kids from class?
Shelly’s mind whirled with paranoid thoughts.
Suddenly, the fish began to thrash around.
Then he did something that made Shelly jump back in fear.
“Help me! Your brother flushed me!” The shrill voice came from the fish.
Up close, she could see that he looked bloated and decaying.
His pale dead eyes stared back at her; his mouth puckered at the air.
Shelly slowly backed away. “No, that’s impossible. Fish can’t talk.”
But the fish kept shrieking. “You’re just like me now! You’re going to go belly-up!”
Shelly slammed the toilet lid.
Fear made her breathing speed up and adrenaline rush through her veins.
But the fish kept shrieking. “You’re going to go belly-up!”
Her eyes locked on the toilet, she backed out of the stall.
And bumped into somebody standing behind her.
Shelly whirled around and came face to face with . . .
Kendall?
“Hey, you’ve been gone awhile,” Kendall said, clutching the other hall pass.
Shelly gulped for air. “Uh, really?” she stammered, feeling her heart racing.
Could Kendall hear the fish, too? Shelly’s eyes darted back to the bathroom stall. She felt tense with fear. She strained to listen for the high-pitched voice that had emanated from under the lid.
“Yeah, Mr. Aquino sent me to find you,” Kendall said, twirling her hair and studying her perfectly glossed lips in the grimy mirror. “Guess he was worried after you didn’t totally nerd out on that fish anatomy question.”
“What question?” Shelly said, distracted. She couldn’t keep her eyes off the stall.
“Seriously, what’s wrong with you?” Kendall said, spinning around to face her. “You look like you just saw a ghost. Is it Normie and his stupid nickname for you?”
“No. It’s nothing. I’m fine.” Suddenly, Shelly remembered her neck. She quickly checked the scarf, worried that in her panic it had slipped down and revealed her gills.
And she’d just been talking to a dead goldfish.
Kendall locked her eyes on her friend’s neck, then they narrowed. “Seriously, though, what’s with the scarf? It’s cute, but it’s like seventy degrees out.”
Shelly felt her mouth go dry. “Oh, I was just . . . uh . . . feeling like I might be getting sick this morning. So my mom insisted I wear it.” The lie tumbled from her mouth.
A tense moment passed. Did Kendall buy it?
Then Kendall snorted. “Moms have the worst fashion sense. You should’ve seen what mine bought me at Ever After the other day. Now I insist on only shopping for myself.”
Shelly forced herself to laugh, even though her mouth still felt dry and her heart was still pounding. The scarf around her neck felt itchy and hot. She was starting to sweat.
With another giggle and a shake of her head, Kendall headed for a bathroom stall.
The bathroom stall.
“No! Don’t go in there!” Shelly jumped in front of Kendall to block her path.
Kendall glared at her friend. “Uh, why not?” she said, giving her a strange look. “I know the school bathroom is totally gross. But when you got to go, you got to go.” And with that, she pushed past Shelly and opened the stall door.
Shelly cringed, waiting for Kendall to notice Mr. Bubbles.
But she heard nothing but the lock clicking, the lid opening, and Kendall taking a seat.
The dead fish was gone.
How is that possible? How is any of this possible?
Shelly secured her scarf and bolted from the room.
* * *
“Wow, look at your time!” Coach Greeley said, clicking the stopwatch when Shelly slapped the side of the pool.
Shelly whipped up her head and snapped back her goggles. “How’d I do?” she asked, keeping her neck submerged underwater just in case. She didn’t want anyone to notice the gills. This was the first time she had tried swimming breaststroke, but the coach had suggested it in case they needed her on the medley relay team. Breaststroke was Kendall’s event, while freestyle was Shelly’s specialty.
“It’s not just a personal best.” Coach Greeley scanned her clipboard through her thick oversize glasses, then looked back up excitedly. “Looks like it’s a new school record!”
Shelly couldn’t believe her ears. “A new school record? Really? Are you serious?” Suddenly, she was starting to appreciate the sea witch’s gift. It wasn’t a curse after all. But would she be disqualified for “cheating” if the gills came to light? Shelly would have to think on that.
After all, having gills was like cheating. The second she had dropped the towel from around her neck—where it was covering up the slits—and had dived into the pool for the practice drill, she had instantly felt something was different. It had felt like she belonged in the water. She had torn through the pool like a fish. The gills had worked wonders. She no longer needed to inhale on every stroke. Actually, she didn’t need to at all, though she did once or twice so she wouldn’t throw anybody off. Just for show. She didn’t want anyone to grow suspicious about the girl who didn’t have to breathe during laps. It was bad enough that Normie still called her fish lover.
“Well, it’s not an official competition time,” Coach Greeley went on, scribbling on her clipboard. “We can’t add it to the record books. But you beat the previous record by a full thirty seconds. Let’s see . . .” She scanned her clipboard. “That record was set last year by Kendall.”
The name hit Shelly like a
