Maybe seeing Sully again is a good thing. It will keep me level-headed. Plus, I could never turn down sex with him. Not ever.
12
Twodayslater,Isee Scarlet Failure tagged in a post on Insta with Gigi. It’s a thirty-second teaser from the song they recently recorded. Gigi’s wearing headphones, smiling at Sully like she’s sharing some private joke with him. The camera pans toward him, but it’s too fast—I can’t read his expression.
A tight, uncomfortable pressure settles low in my stomach, like everything inside me just clenched at once. I shouldn’t care this much, but I do. And it hurts more than I want to admit.
Because I hate myself, I doom-scroll through the comments. Fans gush over the snippet of the song. They’re excited and post too many emojis. Some love Sully and Gigi together. They ship them hard.
I move on only to find another post from a media outlet stating Sully and Gigi were spotted having dinner together at a fancy restaurant last night.
Confusion tangles my thoughts as my throat closes. What is this feeling? Jealousy? Shit. One weekend with the guy and I feel like this?
What would they say if I posted my pictures with Sully? With himactually smiling. I open my photos and look at the picture of Sully the night I met him and flip to the one of us at the Bellagio fountain. His smile is wider and his arms wrap around my waist like we’re an item. We look perfect.
Wow. I need to let this go. I click my phone off when it rings. My mom’s name and picture flash on the screen.
Great. This will be fun.
“Hey, Mom,” I answer, putting the call on speaker so I can brush my hair.
“Hey, Ronni. How are you?”
“Good. What’s up with you?”
“Same old. I planted cucumbers in my garden. Hopefully, your father doesn’t kill them. I told him he’s not allowed in my garden anymore after he flooded it last summer.”
I add some hair product to keep my hair shiny and not frizzy when it gets wet. “How’s Bishop?”
“He’s a sloppy mess.” She laughs. Mom loves that dog maybe more than me. He can do no wrong.
“I’m getting ready for work. Did you call for any reason?” I hate cutting her off, but it takes forever for her to get to the point.
“Oh…well, I emailed you some job listings I thought you’d be perfect for. One is at your Aunt Sally’s firm. She can put in a good word for you.”
Yeah. The aunt I haven’t seen in five years would know so much about me to suggest a desk job. I cross my arms, fingers digging into my side. Do I want to start this fight with her right now? No. I don’t.
“Okay. I’ll glance at them when I have a moment.” I cringe. The word “glance” wasn’t the word I should’ve used.
She sighs heavily like I turned down Harvard for community college. “Veronica, you need to get serious about your life. Your mermaid gig was cute in college, but you graduated four years ago. You can’t stay in this forever.”
Because I’ll get old or be mocked or whatever excuse she’s thrown at me over the years. When in truth it’s her that’s embarrassed by my career choice. I guess having to tell her friends that her only child dresses as a mermaid for a living makes her think I’m an overgrown child. But it makes me happy and pays the bills. Isn’t that what life should be?
“I need to go. But I’ll see you Saturday.”
“Okay, sweetie. Look at those jobs before then and I can help you fix your resume after we go shopping.”
“Love you. Bye.” I hang up before I say something that can’t be taken back. My body feels heavy as I finish my makeup. Talking to her is exhausting, but now I get to go swim around and act like the happiest mermaid anyone’s seen. Yay me.
A private event, for a weather convention of all things, wrapped up early, so Arthur and I decided to surprise his daughter with a mermaid lesson to celebrate her good grades this quarter.
Sarah flips her sparkly tail in and out of the water, splashing and laughing. “First, we’re going to learn to swim with the tail. It’s harder to move in the water with your legs pressed together. We’ll go slow.”
Sarah leaps into the water and I help guide her from one side to the other. “Good. Use your arms and your core.” I touch her stomach. “Kick with your legs together. Very good.”
She laughs and hangs onto the side, waving at Arthur who is watching on the grass sitting in a lawn chair. “You see me, Dad?”
He nods. “Yes. You’re a cute mermaid, baby.”
