Coral didn't want to get up.
She wanted to cry.
She lay curled in bed, staring at the blue ceramic shard resting in her palm. It's edges had been smoothed out by time and tide, but it still gleamed under the morning light, its words a secret waiting to be told.
I found it under the sea.
That was the lie she'd told her parents.
She felt sick about it.
They had panicked when she didn't come home. The whole community had helped search for her. People had scoured the beach. Called her name. Prayed.
All the while, she was beneath the waves, having a dainty, dangerous little adventure with a boy who didn't exist until now.
At least the little girl had kept her surfboard safe.
That toddler had more integrity than her.
Her parents has let her keep it—as a souvenir, the said. A reminder.
But that wasn't what Coral needed reminding of.
What haunted her wasn't the Leviathan, or the near death experience, or the armored men that chased them. No, it was the questions that now gnawed at her every time she closed her eyes.
What am I?
Who am I?
Was I always like this?
Am I really...a mermaid?
The sea breeze wafted through Coral's bedroom window, cool and salty. It felt like a taunt.
She turned her head away from it, the ceramic shard still gripped in her hand.
The door creaked open. Mrs. Ocean peeked in. "Not feeling well?"
"I don't wanna go to school today," she mumbled, not meeting her gaze.
Her mother paused then smiled gently. "How about helping your father and me in the shop?"
Coral perked up, sitting upright. "I'd love to."
-
The tiny bell over the shop door chimed as two customers entered.
"Hi!" Coral greeted brightly from behind the counter. "Welcome to She-Shells, where we sell the best seashells in all of Florida. How can I help you?"
"Hello," the woman replied, her voice thick with an Australian accent. "I'd some shells."
"Right this way!" Coral gestured to a shelf with seashell jars. "These are two bucks each."
While the woman, browsed, the man beside her leaned in close to the glass display of handcrafted sea creatures. He reached out, brushing his fingers against a delicate glass dolphin.
"If you're not gonna buy," came Mr. Ocean's gruff voice from the back. "Then don't touch."
The man flinched.
Mrs. Ocean glided up beside her husband with a practical smile. "Ignore him," she said sweetly. "You want one?"
"How much for one?" The man asked, eyeing the dolphin again.
"Three dollars," she replied, beamed.
"Twenty if you break it," Mr. Ocean added, eyes still locked on the man.
Meanwhile, the woman asked Coral, "The shells or the jars?"
"The jars," Coral replied with a grin. The woman fished out her wallet. "Cash or credit?"
"We take both, ma'am," she said.
"Then in that case..." the woman handed Coral five-one dollar bills. "I'll take three."
"Alrighty," Coral said, counting the bills. She stuffed them into her pocket and handed her three mini jars. The woman held up one to the light, jostling the shells inside with a soft rattle.
The man stroked his chin thoughtfully. He reached out and picked up the glass dolphin, letting the morning light catch on its smooth curves. "I'd like this one."
"Excellent choice!" Mrs. Ocean beamed. She eagerly grabbed the man's arm and guided him to the counter. Mr. Ocean, meanwhile, leaned against the wall, quietly adjusting one of the glass cone snails that had shifted out of place.
Coral placed the money in the register, sighing.
My life is like those shell bottles. Calm, exciting. Now, my little world's been shaken.
Her hand rested on her stomach. Her lisp twisted in a scowl.
She didn't feel so good.
She stepped away from the counter, grabbing one of the shelves nearby.
She really didn't feel so good.
Mrs. Ocean, noticed her daughter's ailment, said, "Coral? Are you alright dear?"
"No," she whimpered, couching down.
Mr. Ocean walked over, brows knitted in concern. "You should go, Coral. Get some fresh air by the sea. We can take it from here."
With a nod, she stumbled towards the door, racing for the only place she'll be calm.
The place that is the start of her tumult.
The sea.
-
Coral stood by the pier, staring at the roaring waves. The sky above was grey, blocking out the sun. The wind whipped at her face. She wiped away her ginger hair strands that stung her eyes.
She crouched, hands rested on her knees as she gazed into the waves.
In a week, her entire life has changed.
She sighed, a slight smile on her face.
Though, they were benefits...
"Coral?"
Coral turned, and frowned at the sight.
Doris Triche.
She wore a purple crop top, blue shorts and brown sandals dotted with shells. Her black hair—pulled into pigtails— billowed in the wind.
"How you've been?" Doris asked smugly.
Coral stood, chest heaving. Jaw tight, and hands balled into fists. She stepped closer, nose inches from hers.
"You tell me," she growled.
Doris' smirk widened.
"I'm sorry about the incident at Surfs Up!" Doris said, an inflection in her voice when she said the word.
She chuckled, shaking her head. "And you were doing so well, too."
"Yeah, it's a big mystery," Coral folded her arms with a frown.
"What I don't get," Doris said, brow creased. "Is afterward, the media was more concerned about you—the loser—then me, the winner of the round."
Coral blinked. "Oh really? That's terrible—"
"Terrible?" Doris asked. "That's all you have to say? Terrible?"
Coral opened her mouth, unable to find words.
"Shut up!" Doris snapped, eyes burning with rage. "Everyone always cared about you, the girl who lived in the kooky shop with her unhinged parents!"
"Don't talk about them like that," Coral said, narrowing her gaze.
"It doesn't matter!" Doris jabbed a finger to her chest. "You always mattered, and I hate it. You didn't have try hard, you always had a natural gift."
"I practiced just as hard as you," Coral argued.
Doris laughed bitterly. "Keep telling yourself that."
Coral frowned.
"And the worst part is, you're so selfish," Doris accused.
"No I'm not," Coral replied.
"You said you had a little dip in the sea," Doris snarled. "But you were gone for at least six hours."
Coral swallowed the lump in her throat.
"Just like how you survived your wipeout," she said. "You weren't even rattled."
Coral scoffed and spun around. Her eyes flitted around, concerned.
"Are you trying to disappear?" Doris whispered. "Like the disappearing woman?"
Coral turned fully, eyebrow raised.
"Don't tell me," Doris chuckled lightly. "You've never heard of it. That's Pearl Beach's most famous urban myth. My mother told me it three times."
"No..." Coral admitted sadly.
"In the early 1900s," Doris narrated. "There was a woman by the name of Jane Carrington. No one knew where she came from, or became of her parents."
"She lived in a house by the sea, right there," she pointed, "with a butler."
Coral eyed her, intrigued.
"Men wanted her hand but she rejected them every time," Doris remarked. "She only wanted one thing: a piece of home."
"What?"
"They sent her foods, clothing, jewelry." Doris shook her head. "She wasn't swayed."
"One day, a man visited her home," Doris continued. "He was Daniel Austin, and he only carried a conch shell with a cork stuffed in the opening."
Coral mouthed "huh?"
"The next day, she announced she was going to marry him, Doris glanced at her. "On the day of the wedding, she was gone."
Coral gasped, amazed.
"What happened?" Coral asked.
"People claimed they saw her standing on this very pier," Doris said dramatically. "And she drank the contents of the conch shell before shedding herself of her dress and diving in, naked."
Coral shivered, teeth gritted in a grimace.
"No one knows what really happened," Doris continued, "and Mr. Austin was cryptic about it. He's alleged to have said, "She wanted a piece of home, so I told her, 'I can send you there.'"
Coral's eyes widened.
"Some say Jane took her own life," Doris rolled her eyes at the notion.
"And there's speculation," she lowered her voice to a whisper. "That she was secretly a...mermaid."
Coral burst out laughing.
Doris simply narrowed her gaze.
"That's funny, Doris," Coral wiped her eyes of imagined tears. "What are you trying to say? You think I'm a mermaid?"
"The point is," Doris gritted out. "People will find out who you really are, even when you try to hide it."
Coral's laugh slowly ebbed away, replaced with closed lips.
"You'll stand on this pier and have to make a choice: face us, or dive into the safety of the ocean."
She spun, storming off, her feet thudding against the wood.
Coral sighed, and crouched, legs brought close.
Doris' right.
Her world is crumbling, and she didn't know what to do...
Caspian's head broke the surface. "Is she gone?"
"Yeah..." she said, distractedly. Then she staggered back, shocked.
"Oh my Guppies..." Coral gasped. "It's you!"
"Please," he said, as water lapped at his chin. "Announce my presence to the whole world."
"Sorry..." she muttered. "Wait, what are you doing here?"
"I was just swimming," he shrugged. "And thought of you."
Coral's heart did a triple-flip. She scanned the beach—luckily, Doris was already a retreating purple speck in the distance, and the tourists were huddled far by the snack bar.
She stuck her tongue out. Those "citrus delights" were always so coarse and dry.
She guessed people will eat anything if it's branded "exotic."
"What happened to "this never happened,"" she whispered-shouting, airing quoting. "And "we never met?""
The merboy scoffed. "I can make and break the rules."
Coral gasped, and pointed at him. "Are you in love with me?"
"Ew," Caspian scrunched his face. "You, as you claim, are a gross human. Falling in love with you would be ridiculous—we'd never work."
Coral's lips upturned into a pout. "You're mean."
"And your human delusions haven't dulled," Caspian rolled his eyes, his white hair slicked back by the salt water.
"Why are you really here?" Coral asked softly.
Caspian glanced up at her. He offered his hand. "Come with me."
She hesitated, glancing behind her. "Do you know of the disappearing woman—Jane Carrington?"
Caspian's hand lowered. "My parents knew her."
"Was she..." Coral's voice broke
Caspian sighed. "What does it matter?"
"My parents, Caspian," Coral sobbed, dipping her head down. "They've raised a freak."
Caspian's jaw set tight. "We're not freaks."
"I thought I k-knew who I-I was," she sobbed, body trembling. "B-But now I'm l-lost. I'll... outlive my p-parents, and I'll... be seafoam."
Caspian frowned. "Now that's a myth, something told to scare the merkids."
Coral looked up at him.
"But all myths are based on fact," Caspian surmised. "So it may have happened—"
Coral choked on a sob.
Caspian's gaze softened. "Listen...you can become one of us."
She wiped her eyes.
"Become a mermaid."
"I can't," she said. "I've lied a=about my true heritage. And I..."
"Fish don't lie," Caspian said over the roar of the waves.
She squinted at him. "What?"
"It's a saying in merfolk," he said. "if that's your wish, I understand."
Coral nodded.
"Goodbye forever, Coral," he said somberly. "Coral Ocean."
She gasped, her heart thumping like a hammer as he dove under the waves.
The wind kept blowing, tossing back her hair furiously. Her hand drifted to her chest.
He said her name.
-
The bell of the door rang softly as Coral entered. She lifted her head, watching her parents share a kiss over the counter.
She whimpered, lips trembling.
Mr. Ocean turned around. "Coral!"
Coral sprinted toward him, wrapping her arms around him. Mr. Ocean glanced at Mrs. Ocean as he embraced her back.
Mrs. Ocean walked around and placed her hand on Coral's shoulder. "What's wrong?"
Coral stepped back, wiping her eyes.
"Mom, Dad," she took a breath. "I have something to tell you."
Mr. Ocean hurried off and returned with two stools. He set them down and the pair sat down, eyes locked on their daughter.
"Yes?" Mr. Ocean asked her.
"I'm...a mermaid," Coral confessed.
Mr. and Mrs. Ocean exchanged looks.
Mr. Ocean licked his top lip before speaking, "How do you know this?"
"A few days ago," Coral continued. "I discovered I can breathe underwater. I spoke and met to a merboy named Caspian—please believe me, I can't lie anymore."
"So that ceramic shard...?" Mrs. Ocean pointed upstairs.
"I found it in a shipwreck," Coral confessed. "We were escaping a leviathan."
She fell quiet.
"Please...." she whispered.
Mr. Ocean sighed, glancing at Mrs. Ocean. "You were right, Melusine. We'd have to admit the truth soon or later."
"Of course, Delmar," she said, elbowing him. "We can no longer hide this from her. Fish don't lie after all."
Her eyes widened.
Fish don't lie...
That's what Caspian said too..
Coral's eyes flitted between them. "You're...not surprised."
"Of course not," Mrs. Ocean chuckled, sliding off the stool. She grasped her daughter's shoulders.
"You are not a human," Mrs. Ocean confessed. "But a mermaid indeed."
"And so are we," Mr. Ocean added with a smile.