Córdova / Parker Mermaids Never Drown: Tales to Dive For

1. Auflage 2023
ISBN: 978-1-80336-813-9
Verlag: Titan Books
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 6 - ePub Watermark

E-Book, Englisch, Band 2, 320 Seiten

Reihe: The Untold Legends

14 Young Adult short stories from bestselling and award-winning authors make a splash in Mermaids Never Drown - the second collection in the Untold Legends series edited by Zoraida Córdova and Natalie C. Parker - exploring mermaids like we've never seen them before! A Vietnamese mermaid caught between two worlds. A siren who falls for Poseidon's son. A boy secretly pining for the merboy who saved him years ago. A storm that brings humans and mermaids together. Generations of family secrets and pain. Find all these stories and more in this gripping new collection that will reel you in from the very first page! Welcome to an ocean of hurt, fear, confusion, rage, hope, humor, discovery, and love in its many forms. Edited by Zoraida Córdova and Natalie C. Parker, Mermaids Never Drown features beloved authors like Darcie Little Badger, Kalynn Bayron, Preeti Chhibber, Rebecca Coffindaffer, Julie C. Dao, Maggie Tokuda-Hall, Adriana Herrera, June Hur, Katherine Locke, Kerri Maniscalco, Julie Murphy, Gretchen Schreiber, and Julian Winters.

Zoraida Córdova is the author of many fantasy novels for kids and teens, including the award-winning Brooklyn Brujas series, Incendiary, Star Wars: A Crash of Fate, and The Way to Rio Luna. Her short fiction has appeared in the New York Times bestselling anthology Star Wars: From a Certain Point of View, Come On In, and Toil & Trouble. She is the co-editor of Vampires Never Get Old. Zoraida was born in Guayaquil, Ecuador, and raised in Queens, New York. When she's not working on her next novel, she's finding a new adventure. She tweets @zlikeinzorro

Autoren/Hrsg.

Córdova, Zoraida

Parker, Natalie C.

Leseproben

WE’LL ALWAYS HAVE JUNE
Julian Winters I’m ten years old the first time the ocean whispers her name to me: Death. One moment, I’m on the edge of the boat, singing along to the music coming from someone’s phone. My moms are laughing with their friends on the other end of the deck. Then we hit a wave. I lose balance and the ocean takes me. She doesn’t embrace me like a concerned parent. No, she swallows me like a starved shark. The descent is quick. I’d secretly slipped out of my life jacket ten minutes ago because we were headed back to shore, and it felt so constricting while I sang. Now, the ocean’s strong fingers tug on me. I fight to hold my breath. I thrash and kick, but I’m not a great swimmer, so I sink. Down, down, down. Everything slows like the space between the end of a dream and waking up. I almost don’t believe someone is swimming toward me. A boy, who looks my age, but different. His eyes are amber like Mom’s favorite pair of teardrop earrings. Short locs dance in the current. Rich brown skin all the way to his navel. After that, it’s a burst of fire and gold. He has a tail. The scales shimmer like a slice of the sun. But shock and fear seize my limbs. It’s just the two of us in the pounding silence of the sea. His small hands catch my limp arms. He studies me with sad, bright eyes. Carefully, he pinches my nose and leans in. His mouth covers mine. It’s not a kiss. He exhales small pockets of breath into me. The coil around my lungs loosens. I’m . . . alive. He propels us up. I don’t struggle. I let this boy with a tail rip me from Death’s determined hands. In the distance, I hear the ocean again. This time it shrieks my name: Kai! Or maybe that’s my moms. They find me spluttering on the shore. Soaked clothing pinning me to the soft, grainy sand. Salty water burning my eyes, scratching my throat. Echoes of “Are you okay?” surround me. Am I? My only response is, “A boy . . . saved my life.” I know what he is, but I don’t want to say it out loud. Not yet. No one listens. And the boy with a tail and careful touch is gone. *   *   * Six Junes Later “What’s the worst that could happen?” Nothing good has ever come of those words, especially when said from the wolfish mouth of Vicente Pérez. We’re at our favorite spot—the railing leading down to the beach. The sky’s an explosion of crimson and tangerine. Sunset looks nice on his tawny complexion. Vic knots his hair into a messy bun. “Just ask him out already.” Me and Vic are complete opposites. He’s loud and reckless. I’m chill, cautious. Even down to our bodies—where he’s short and defined, I’m long and lean, a level above scrawny. We’ve lived on Talisa Island, a coastal town deep in the belly of Georgia, all our lives. Nine months out of the year, nothing really changes around here. But summers are different. Every June, tourists pour into our town for the beach and ocean. One of those visitors is Marc O’Brien, the boy who’s stolen my attention for the last two summers. Even from here, I can see him kicking a soccer ball along the shore with kids from my school. Floppy ginger hair like a crown of flames. I can picture the spill of freckles across his face contrasting with his very green eyes. “Your pining is embarrassing.” Vic hops off the railing, checking his phone. “And my break’s over.” He works part-time at the surf shop. I pick up shifts at my moms’ restaurant. Being a busser isn’t glamorous but I’m already saving up for college. I’m looking at universities closer to the city. Far from the ocean. “So,” Vic begins, a smile teasing his lips, “band rehearsal tomorrow?” I roll my eyes. We’ve had this conversation a hundred times. Vic plays bass guitar in an amateurish cover band. He’s tried persuading me to sing lead for years. Everyone said I had a beautiful voice when I was younger, but I haven’t sung in front of people since almost drowning, only to myself or when goofing off with Vic in my bedroom. I worry the moment I sing in public again, something awful will be waiting to swallow me whole. “We need you, Kai,” Vic continues. “We landed a gig at my dad’s karaoke bar.” “I’ll think about it,” I lie. It’s the same answer every time. Halfway back to the main road, Vic pauses. He looks out toward the beach, where Marc is still dribbling a soccer ball between his feet, then to me. “Kai,” Vic shouts, eyebrows waggling, “you’re a six-foot god! Stop being scared. Any boy would be bananas not to want you.” I wave him off, nose wrinkled. If my best friend only knew about the boy I really dream about. *   *   * When the sun kisses the horizon, the beach empties out like a flood. Locals and tourists pass me on the wooden walkway. Everyone but Marc. He’s hiked to his usual hideaway—atop one of the shallow cliffs overlooking the water. For nearly an hour, I watch him from a distance, unsure my clumsy feet will carry me all the way up the rocks without tripping and landing right back in the ocean’s dark, possessive grip. Eventually, Marc fades into the night. Now, I’m standing on the beach, arms folded across my chest, legs trembling. The water’s briny, salty scent fills my nose. I glare at Death as she unleashes her nightly hymn. I rarely come this far into the sand. This close to the ocean. Over the years, my moms and therapist have gently nudged me toward giving swimming another chance. Trusting the water again. But every time it brushes past my ankles, climbs up my shins, I freeze. What if I get it all wrong like I did as a kid? What if there is no magical merboy waiting? Who will save me? My moms didn’t then, not that I’m upset with them. They tried. As much as I want to learn how to swim better, so it never happens again, I’m scared the only thing that’ll catch me when I fail is Death. Anger coils in my throat. I yell to the water, “Why won’t you let me forget?” My voice echoes into the night like a broken note in a quiet room. Death doesn’t reply in words. Instead, the wind lets out a low howl, and the ocean answers in a slow-building wave. My eyes catch on something moving along the crest. A flicker of fiery, glittering light. The quick whip of a tail emerging, then disappearing. Stunned, I instinctively shuffle backward, but I don’t notice the hole some kid dug up hours ago. My foot catches. All my weight shifts and then, my balance is gone. As I’m falling, I almost laugh. This is what I get for being bold. Classic Kai. I thud onto the beach, eyes closed. A groan escapes my lips as the back of my skull throbs. Can you get a concussion from sand? I think. Then: Who’s gonna delete my browser history if I fall into a coma? My eyes pop open when a throat clears above me. It’s him, standing over me. The full moon weaves silver garland through his dark locs. He has a delicate, beautiful smile like blown glass in the light. Shiny drops of water slip down his deep brown skin. There are two legs where I remember a tail being. And he’s— Naked. “Oh shit,” I gasp. He stares at me for a moment, an eyebrow arched, before glancing down. Reality sets in. “Sorry. I forgot.” His grin widens before he jogs down the shore, ducking behind a large rock. Lethargically, I sit up. He’s not a dream. My brain’s barely calibrated those words before the boy’s returned, settling next to me in a loose, short-sleeved Henley and board shorts. “Are you okay?” I nod slowly. When the waves dance up the shore, I finally scoot back. I don’t let the water near my feet. “Just a bump on the head,” I say, rubbing my skull. The short hairs of my taper fade tickle my fingertips. I blink, then gaze at him. In the moonlight, his eyes are less bright. He’s toned like a swimmer. Nothing different from the boys I see at school, except . . . “Sorry.” God, was I really just staring at him? “I was expecting . . .” His mouth tilts curiously, waiting for me to finish. “Uh, nothing. I’m—” “Kai,” he says, his voice like salt and honey. Rough but sweet. The curves around his mouth deepen. “I know.” My heart tumbles like rolled dice in my chest. “I’m Cyrus,” he says. “We’ve met before.” “You saved me. A long time ago,” I rasp out. “Do you always go around rescuing drowning boys?” “No,” he says. “Just you.” My eyes widen. He...