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I set the comb back to work with a chuckle. “Believe me, Freechia’s hair was way worse. I love her to bits, but the kid insisted she was a sea lion for a good ten years! And the hardest part wasn’t even the brushing and the styling, but thecatching. Man, she was as fast and slippery as any sea lion pup. Sometimes I wondered if she knew something about herself that the rest of us didn’t.” One of the comb teeth caught on a particularly stubborn knot, and we both hissed in a breath. “Sorry. I’m trying to be gentle.”
She rubbed a circle over the back of her scalp. “No, no, it’s fine. I guess that’s why they say not to brush hair when it’s wet.”
“What?Who says that?” I fluffed the bottom of her fiery hair with the back of the comb. Wet or dry, the thick strands looked tough enough to survive being drawn through a jaw full of shark teeth with minimal damage.
Nose scrunched, she lifted her chin to shoot me a glance. “You know…people.”
“But you’re a mermaid? Your hair is supposed to be wet, pretty much always. Dude, could you imagine if mermaids stopped brushing their hair?” Just thinking about it made me want to laugh. “My mother would turn into a sea monster! Her hair is already this dark algae-green color, and shehatesit. Could be worse though, right? I mean, look at my hair. Anyway, she combs it down into a smooth, solid wave at least fifty times a day and still has a complex. I’m afraid to even look at it half the time.”
When I finished my rambling, I noticed the muscles in her shoulders had bunched up tighter than the knots in her hair.
“I don’t actually think of myself as a mermaid.”
“What?” My hand stopped the comb mid-slide. “Why not?”
Claira took a long, shaky breath. “I don’t know. Maybe because I’ve lived on land for over ten years? You’ve already heard I can’t swim.” She paused, hunching her shoulders further. “I haven’t considered myself a mermaid for a long time. My birth father will tell you I never was much of one, if you ask him. But since everyone else keeps insisting my broken tail is some sort of gift to merfolk kind, I guess that makes me an ex-mermaid, maybe? I might never truly be human, but I know I won’t ever go back to living underwater.”
“An ex-mermaid, huh? Well, there are a lot of cool things on land. I wouldn’t mind staying up here, either.” I smoothed out the last few knots and pulled her hair into a high moraytail. Her hair was so heavy it took all four binds to secure it, but when I finished, it looked nearly perfect.
I gave my thighs a quick slap and stood up. “Now that you’re all scrubbed and polished, how about some food? I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
“No joke, your stomach’s growling so loud you were vibrating the whole chair. I was getting nervous you might try to take a bite of my hair.” She gave her moraytail a few swishes, letting her hair whip from side to side. “Thanks for this, by the way. I never wear it up. Feels cool, like I’m getting ready for a fight or something.”
She whipped around suddenly, delivering a mock punch to the side of my leg. In the spirit of our pretend fight from earlier, I groaned dramatically and started limping away, heading for the food I’d brought along with us. By the time I lifted the brown bags, drool was running down my chin. I wasted no time getting back to the lounge chair, plopping right down beside her to unpack.
“We didn’t know what kinds of food you like, so you’ve got a lot here to choose from.” I pulled out half a dozen paper containers and lined them in a long row. When I popped the first top open, she gasped.
“Holy—where did you get all of this? Is it fresh? I thought the town was deserted.”
I opened every container except the last, just in time to see her eyes widen in wonder, bigger than moons. “We’re staying at a hotel a few minutes outside this territory in Brightleaf. There’s this eatery connected to the side of it, and since Barren’s family owns the entire building, they let him cook up some food in the back of the kitchen.”
“Hisfamilyowns it? What would Indian Ocean royalty want with a random hotel in—Did you say Brightleaf? Those damn harpies drove me all the way to Brightleaf?” She fell into a daze that I had to wave a hand in front of her face to break.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize they’d taken me so far from home.” She lowered her lashes, looking suddenly sullen. “The food looks really good, though. You said Barren made all of it? Wow.”
I pointed to each container down the line as I spoke. “Well, most of it. He made the French dip, roasted vegetables, seaweed salad, fried catfish, and these delicious little bread rolls I think he called hushguppies. You know, all the hard stuff.” I broke into a long sigh. “He’s like the complete package, you know? No wonder Laverne likes him so much.”
“I’m sure she’s still your girl, Kai. When he breaks her heart, you can swoop in and get your chance.”
That little smirk of hers told me she was joking, but I still prodded her with an elbow. “Har har, very funny. I just don’t want to see her hurting again. She’s like a sister to me.”
Digging back into the bag, I pulled out two of the comb-like tools Barren had tossed in the bag like an afterthought. I held them up to examine. “I almost forgot he packed these. What do they call these things?”
“Forks? They’re like little tridents used for spearing food instead of entrails. Oh, and they’re not magical. Actually, maybe they’re nothing like tridents.” Claira snatched one right out of my hand and leaned over the food like she wasn’t sure which dish to attack first. “You said Barren made most of these, so that last one over there is…?”
An odd lump formed in my throat. I scratched at the back of my neck, wondering if I should even show her what I’d made. Now that I was seeing how delicious Barren’s food looked, there was no way she’d want to try mine. “Yeah, uh, I was feeling bored while Barren was chopping up everything. He didn’t really seem like he was in a talkative mood, so I hung out with one of the chefs. He was such a cool guy; he let me use the stove.”
Remembering how enthusiastic Drew had been while teaching me, I opened up the lid with renewed confidence. Even if it wasn’t fancy, I’d worked hard on it. Drew even high-fived me after. I cleared my throat. “My friend Drew cracked open the first egg, but I did the other three. Did you know birds lay eggs just like fish do? He showed me how to cook them, and then he even let me decorate the top.”
The little red lines of Claira’s hair had run together a bit, but her dot eyes and half-moon smile still looked just as good as when I drew them.
“Is that…?” she asked flatly, her tone unreadable.
I rubbed at the back of my neck some more. “Yeah.”
“Pfft.” She cracked up, reaching for the container with the end of her fork. “Well, slide it over! Let’s see how I taste.”
I passed it to her, and she didn’t hesitate to scoop up a bite. Then another. “Wow, I think you’re already a better cook than I am.”
