SEA, SWALLOW ME, remus lupin

còig air fichead, selkie swims

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
selkie swims

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  STRAIGHT AWAY, COVE DECIDES THAT going to the party was a grave mistake.

  Her shoes click against the cobbled floors, a metronome resounding against the chirruping of the nightly orchestra. The emptiness of the corridors acts as both a blessing and a curse, protecting the more obvious aspects of her transformation from nosy students while also serving as an overbearing reminder of how isolated she truly feels, caught in nature's crossfire. Every time she passes a mirror, she flinches away as if the sight of her own reflection burns her, repulsed by the way her form is at the crossroads between humanity and something far more bestial. Cove would never claim to be ashamed of her selkie blood, but at times it becomes difficult to feel even remotely proud of it.

Perhaps her life would be easier if she made a permanent decision between land and sea. She could finally belong somewhere properly. No more secrets, no more hiding. The real question is, would she give in to a mortal destiny bound to the beaches and fields, or an immortal life out in the deep waters?

No. Cove could never bring herself to do it. The idea of choosing between her two worlds only ever makes her feel nauseous.

She comes across the nearest girls' toilets, running in so violently that the door bangs against the wall and creaks dangerously. Cove averts her eyes from the mirrors as if what she'll come face to face with is a grotesque, medusian sight that will turn her to stone. No, the truth is that she's just trying to hide from the harsh reality that her human features are transmogrifying to that of a seal's. She wishes she at least had her sealskin to ease her through the unpleasant change. It would be so much more painless that way.

Cove slumps against the cubicle wall, tearing off her rings and shoving them safely inside her bra so that her fingers can develop into flippers without tearing through any of the webbed membrane. The mere notion of what that'd feel like makes her knees go all wobbly and her head feel woozy. Why didn't she go directly to the lake, like any rational selkie in her position would? Triton, she really feels like she's going to be sick now.

  It isn't long before the emptiness of the lavatory is filled by worried exclamations of her own name. Two pairs of feet appear at the gap between the cubicle door and the floor tiles, one dressed in ruby stilettos and the other in sparkly kitten heels. Someone raps their knuckles against the door, fine jewellery knocking hard against the worn wood.

  "Go away," Cove snaps, shrinking away from the door. Ensnared in her own consequences.

  "No. Not until you talk to us."

  "I'm not having a laugh. Leave me alone."

  "Yeah, we know that. We can hear your crying," Fallon chimes in helpfully.

  She sniffles. "Shut up."

  Outside the stall, Mary shoots a withering glare at Fallon. She sighs heartily and turns back to the door. "You can't hide in there forever, you know! You'll have to come out at some point. Think of Pip."

  "Don't use Pip against me, Mary."

  "Look, Cove, this has been a problem for too long now. We're scared for you, love. Please tell us what's bothering you and we can try to sort it out. Bottling it up won't make you feel any better."