Mermaids And The Vampires Who Love Them

8. ALL DRESSED UP WITH NOWHERE TO GO

The week before the yacht party goes by so quickly, I'm caught off guard when I receive a note from Pierce. He's kept his word and has helped me get acclimated and with homework. Turns out, he's a wiz at polynomials, which I have officially added to his list of superpowers, along with flying and temporary blood-induced mind-reading. And even better, he's promised not to read my mind, which is a huge relief.

WMF-

I have something to give you. Meet me at "our" beach at 6:30. We can go to the party together.

PK

It's almost five p.m. now, and I'm lying on the bottom bunk on the left side of the girls' bedroom, folding the note from Pierce until it is as tiny and inconspicuous as possible. Shelly is in a chair facing the vanity mirror while Lily-Bella waves her wand over Shelly's hair. One hairstyle after another blooms on Shelly's head as they try to find the perfect one. But Shelly isn't paying attention. She's staring at the note in the mirror's reflection. I push it into the front pocket of my jeans to get it out of sight.

Smiling happily to myself, I close my eyes and create an image of Pierce in my mind. I see his dimples first, naturally. His deviously-handsome blue eyes. His mop of dark hair. And his trademark smirk.

Okay, brain, erase the smirk!

But the smirk stays.

Stupid brain.

Anyway, Pierce has been really wonderful this week. I've caught him looking at me during class and lunch. And he has totally caught me looking back at him. We keep accidentally running into each other—in the statue garden, on the path to classes, and in the common room of our cabin. A few times, we've ended up on the couch next to each other, and I could tell he wanted to hold my hand. I would even wiggle my fingers as a kind of invitation, but he never touched me.

It's weird, but he's always around. Kind of at minor stalker levels. And it seems like he wants MORE, which I know I do too. But something is stopping him. Must find out what it is and get rid of it, pronto. If there's any consolation, it's that Pierce doesn't seem at all interested in Shelly. No matter how much she throws herself at him, he ignores her now.

But maybe tonight at 'our beach,' all this will change! Well, hopefully not the Shelly part, obviously.

The bunk above mine squeaks, pulling me from my Pierce obsessing. Pickles, my favorite roommate, has the top bunk, and she's up there reading some fairy godmother training manual. I plan to set the book on fire when she's not looking. I don't like the F.G. rules at all. They are ridiculous. Why should a person be forced to spend their life making other people happy? Case in point—she insisted on taking the top bunk. Sure, I prefer the bottom, but the only way she would have let me have the top is if I'd physically restrained her. I don't want to do that sort of thing to my new friend, and frankly, I don't want to expend the energy tying her down every night for the rest of the semester.

Besides the beds and the vanity, the girls' room has four desks, four wardrobes, and a bathroom with two sinks, two showers, and two stalls. There are also two windows overlooking the redwood forest. Lily-Bella and Shelly's half of the room is covered in predominantly pink clothing, glittery makeup, hairbrushes, ribbons, jewelry, tiaras, and dozens of perfume bottles. It is strange to see these items in a log cabin in the woods.

Shelly and Lily-Bella have now spritzed every perfume they own into the air at least twice, so our room smells like a horrible accident at a human perfume store.

"Maybe we should go back to picking out our outfits before we decide on hair and fragrance," says Shelly. "I think that would make more sense."

"You're right. Outfits first," says Lily-Bella.