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The Merworld Water Wars - Finned Part 4

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After a few minutes of Mom-panic over the "missing" car keys, we headed to our new home. We pulled into our narrow, sh.e.l.l-laden driveway and trudged into our small, one-story beach house. The inside smelled moldy, but I guess that's what they call beach-y. Old, beat-up boxes littered the hallway, but there really wasn't much to unpack, since our belongings were minimal to begin with. While my mom scurried off to scope out the tiny kitchen, I wandered back to my regrettably florescent green bedroom. Whoever thought this was a good color for a bedroom was seriously demented; I'll practically have to sleep in sungla.s.ses.

My room might be small and ridiculously bright, but it did have one redeeming feature: a large window overlooking the ocean. The view could not be more breathtaking, apart from a rickety old pier that seemed to extend endlessly over the sea. I've never been a fan of piers. The idea that the only things between me and drowning to death were a bunch of old wooden planks wigged me out.

I sat on the window seat, my back to the pier, and stared into the horizon. I was deep within a rather naughty daydream when I saw someone leave the house next door and walk towards the sea. He stood near the sh.o.r.eline, perfectly still. For some reason, his figure captivated me. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him. As if sensing my stare, he turned and looked right at me...my neighbor, Troy Tombolo.

Chapter Four.

A First Date with Tricks & Treats.



Who doesn't love October? The air was a little heavier, the days a little spookier, and the nights practically beg ghostly spirits to start singing, dancing, and frightening the bejesus out of living beings. On these nights, ghosts, witches, werewolves, and vampires creep out of the depths of impossibility and into reality...or so I like to think.

It'll be nice to have the chance at a true Halloween night in a seafaring town. In the inst.i.tution, doctors used Halloween as an excuse to play vampire with extra gusto. My expectations to connect with the otherworldly could not be greater. Until then, I have a date.

Trey asked me out first thing this morning, just as Airianna predicted. I had wanted to better prepare for the moment his lips said, "Marina, will you have dinner with me Friday night?" Sadly, my weak preparation gets the big FAIL. Instead of replying with a bubbly, "Can't wait," my lips did the cla.s.sic tuck and curl. See, I have a tiny problem when it comes to dating: I gag. I truly repulse myself. Fortunately, Trey already knew about my reflex and fully expected it...well, maybe not fully.

Date time. Ugh. All this fussing about has left me wheezy. I really must start exercising. With a mere millisecond to spare, I heard the doorbell. I hurried to open the door, which was probably stupid since a cleverer girl would keep a guy waiting for at least a few minutes. Unfortunately, my hungry stomach nullified any cleverness I may possess.

Oh. Trey looked perfectly yummy in his dark pants and black t-s.h.i.+rt.

Yum. GAG. d.a.m.n.

"Another gag? Now, paranoia sets in."

"Oh, uh, that was just sinus drainage." I couldn't bear to look at him.

"Riiiight. Your mom around?" he asked, s.h.i.+fting his eyes.

"Meeting. No parental third degree for you tonight."

"Nice. Ready?" he asked, offering me his arm.

"Sure," I said, gladly looping my arm through his.

After driving to the main village road, Trey parked his jeep, opened the door for me, and led me to a large hayride waiting nearby.

"Have you been downtown lately?" he asked.

"I haven't been downtown at all."

"You're kidding! How's that possible?"

"I've only been here a couple days. Plus, I go from home to school, then school to home, where I get my homework done, study, and stare at the water."

"Wow. That's pathetic," he said, nudging me.

"Yeah, it kinda is," I said.

"Well, I think you're really going to like this," he said, helping me onto the horse-drawn wagon.

"Ready, young ones?" asked the driver, a jolly Fairhair man dressed as a scarecrow, complete with stuffed crows attached to his hat.

"Shouldn't we wait for them?" I asked, pointing to a large group waiting in the shadows.

"They'll be waiting for the next ride, I expect," said the driver, urging the horses onward.

"It's a group of Ravenflames," said Trey. "They're not going to share a wagon with two Normals."

"Trey-"

"No questions. I want you to enjoy this," he said, taking my hand.

When the wagon turned onto the main street, the driver announced, "Welcome to Halloween Haven Street!"

The quaint village looked mystical, all transformed into a Halloween heaven. We pa.s.sed under thick Halloween-themed garland strung from building to building, while strands of orange lights and wreaths of golden leaves twinkled atop every lamppost. Mechanical bats flew madly about, swooping down on visitors. Happy, creepy, and artistically perfect pumpkins adorned every shop window and doorstep. Ghosts fluttered on invisible chords, and witches cackled and brewed potions from steaming cauldrons.

"This is incredible," I whispered.

"If you think this is good, wait until you see it at Christmas," said Trey, closely watching my every reaction.

"Thank you for shutting me up earlier," I said honestly. "I'm not even sure what I was going to ask. Sometimes I verbal vomit."

Trey smirked and said, "I just didn't want you to miss this...or that." I followed his stare and...

AGH! A headless horseman zoomed by, aiming his seriously creepy pumpkin at my head. I immediately dropped to the bottom of the wagon. I so hope I didn't scream.

"Don't think I've ever heard someone scream that loud at the horseman," said the driver.

Terrific.

"Are you all right?" Laughing, Trey helped me up and brushed off the hay.

"Stupid comes naturally to me. I'm fluent in stupid," I said airily.

"Destination call for Harbor Haunts!" said the driver, slowing the horses.

"So, the main street is called Halloween Haven, and this restaurant is Harbor Haunts? Is the pro-spooky a year-round thing?" I asked, carefully stepping down.

The driver chuckled. "Nah, they change the names with the holidays. For Christmas, the main street becomes Holiday Haven, and this place changes to Harbor Holly."

"A holiday happy town. That's fun with a hoot of whoo hoo."

"Now, before you go, I always a.s.sign official pa.s.senger nicknames. You, sir, will be Charming, while you, little la.s.s, will have to be...Yelps."

There are no words.

"Goodnight!" he called, clip-clopping down the street.

"So, Yelps, ready to eat?"

"Funny. Let's go inside," I grumbled, reaching for the door.

"Oh, no, no. Please, allow me," he said, opening the door and bowing. "After all, I am Charming."

We both laughed and entered Harbor Haunts. The fun decor of the village continued inside the typical little seaside restaurant with floating ghosts over every table, candy garlands strung overhead, and an eerie fog blanketing the floor.

"I'm Verbosa. Reservation?" said the Ravenflame hostess, who was dressed up as a rather raunchy pirate.

"Yeah, under Campbell," said Trey.

Verbosa looked us over. "This way."

"They don't work in the kitchens, do they?" I whispered as we weaved through the crowded tables.

"Ravenflames own the place and only work the less strenuous jobs," he said, curling his lip. "Fairhairs run the kitchen."

"Good. Wouldn't want them to go all evil queen-poison apple on us."

"You two will sit here," Verbosa said.

"Don't think so. I specifically asked for an ocean view," said Trey, managing his temper.

Verbosa apparently did not want to argue with Trey...not that I blame her. An angry Trey was very intimidating.

"Fine. Will this one suit you?" she asked sarcastically, motioning to a corner table overlooking the sea.

"Just what I asked for," he said, pulling out my chair.

Verbosa left our menus and stormed off.

"Frankly, I'm surprised she took your reservation, being a Normal and all," I said, opening my menu.

"Money motivates, and I'm a paying customer."

Looking over my menu, I felt queasy. Every dish was fish.

"Hi! I'm Ula, and I'll be your server this evening. Can I get y'all something to drink?" said the cheerful Fairhair girl.

"Soda, please," said Trey.

"Um, same. And, uh, do you serve anything other than fish?" I asked her, totally mortified.

"Oh, sure. We do special orders on occasion. We have chicken dishes. Anything in particular we can make for you?"

"I'd love chicken fingers...with honey mustard sauce on the side...and spicy fries. And a Caesar salad sounds good, dressing on the side."

"You know, that sounds really good," said Trey. "I'll have the same."

Ula giggled while she diligently took our orders. "You're Marina Valentine, aren't you?"

"Uh, yes." Oh G.o.d. Am I supposed to recognize this girl?

"I'm in your English cla.s.s."

Oh, yeah, I remember seeing her now. Ula was basically a bigger version of Tinkerbell. "Sorry, I didn't recognize you. After a while, all the blonds blend." Er. "I didn't mean that how it sounded."

Giggling, she said, "No, I know what you mean. Anyway, I loved your poem! That was the best one of the day. I'll just go put your orders in." She twirled around and skipped towards the kitchen.

"So...um." I didn't know what to say. This was my first official date outside of the inst.i.tution. "Um. Yeah, that's all I've got."

"There's a reason they say conversation is an art," said Trey.

"And I'm not arty. This is a problem."

Trey bit his lip, smiling. "The Fairhair girls seem to be pro-you."

"While the Fairhair guys and all the Ravenflames are anti-me. I'm a big anti."

"If anyone's the anti, it's the Ravenflames. They're anti-everybody, except themselves."

"Here y'all go," said Ula, setting down the most gorgeous plates of Caesar salad.

"Greens are good when slathered with fatty dressing," I said, my mouth protruding with salad. Mom would kill me for talking with my mouth full.

After finis.h.i.+ng arguably the best Caesar salads ever, we indulged in our perfect platters of chicken fingers and spicy fries. My stomach was full and uncomfortable, which felt great after years of empty and uncomfortable. Unfortunately, due to years of downing slop, our mealtime conversation consisted of me saying, "Yum" and "Mmm." Yeah. Bad.

"Food is freedom."

"That should be our slogan." Trey grinned, but a grimace soon followed. "I don't believe this."

"What? Do you see a crab puff?"

"Look behind you."

Troy Tombolo slipped into a seat at the table directly behind me; I could feel the heat coming off his body. Unfortunately, he brought Katrina with him. She looked like one of those overly made-up dolls from the clearance bin of an outlet toy store.

"What's your beef with Troy?" I whispered.

Trey leaned low over the pumpkin and ghost centerpiece and whispered, "I think he and Katrina know where the other Normals are. I sense it."

"You're saying they know where Earl, Ophelia, and Odette moved?"

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