Dakota just transferred to a small town in Ireland after finally sprouting gills senior year. Dakota thought they were in the clear but sprouting gills might seal their fate to the ocean wrecking everything they worked for on land. 1/4 Selkie, 1/4 M...
Mom sat in the front with Emory in the passenger seat and I sat in the back, trying not to make it obvious that my skin was already itching only forty-five minutes away from the house. I should have taken a dip in the ocean first at least that would have lasted longer. Maybe I should ask to stay with Bay. I rubbed at my arm to keep from clawing my skin off. His offer was loud in my ears. I was waiting for you to ask to stay with me. I shifted back and forth in the seat, trying to itch an especially bad spot between my shoulder blades.
Bay's skin had sprouted black rings, just like mine did. He was beginning to feel like the one I had the most in common with. The one that was easiest to be myself around and every time I dared to glance at Emory, I felt like garbage. She was with me, and I was already waiting to get back into the water.
It's just the itching, I told myself. You're just cranky. As if to prove my point, a new itch pinched at my ribs. I dug my palm into it to gently relieve it, but even that left a burning sensation behind. She's still your best friend.
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Walking around the mall, I was around more people than I had been around in months. People accidentally bumped into me but tossed a sorry over their shoulders. Emory wove in and out of stores and then circled back to the ones she had found things she wanted in and purchased a few things efficiently. The last store was a smaller local shop renting out a space at the back of the mall and Emory bolted for a spaghetti strap dress with a floral print
"Do you have a dressing room?" Emory asked with a few dresses draped over her arm. The old women at the counter smiled and led Emory to the back corner of the store and pointed mom and me to the circle of chairs around a small raised platform tucked aside. Emory was out a second later. She had always been a fast dresser. She hopped up onto the little platform and gave us a spin.
"Well?" she asked.
Mom's eyes lit up. "Oh, Emory. You look precious."
I shook my head and focused on Emory. The dress was a soft white with a smattering of wildflowers delicately printed onto the fabric. The bodice hugged her to her waist and flared out, stopping just above her knees.
"I like it." The words fall flat to my own ears. Get it together, Dakota. I need to let her have a moment because I'd already been a crap friend and it was the least I could do to give her my attention even if it meant ignoring the invisible flames that had ignited over my skin or ignore the sideways glances I got when people spotted the bandages wrapped around my neck.
"I'll try the other one on." She hopped down less bouncy that time and then returned not a few breaths later with a mustard yellow sundress. The fabric was textured only hitting mid-thigh that time and it draped over her frame from the spaghetti straps and dropped into a v in the front and had no back at all accept for a string across her shoulders to keep the straps up.
