When Reality and Fantasy Collide

I slept through until midday, so sue me. Actually, you can't since I'm exercising my right to do what I will with the weekend. Dearest Mommy decided to wake me up for the best part of twenty seconds to ask me about my plans before she went to work, since Dad would be up in his study until God knows when. Must suck being a lawyer; all those affidavits. Guess they were both just overambitious teens with no social life. I don’t really know where my future is headed, I'm just gonna let the chips fall as they may.

I had grunted out something about swimming with Cassie and Max before rolling over and going right back to the dream I had been so rudely interrupted in the middle of. A haunting tune, a flash of scales. It was all so familiar and yet so distant.

But hey, at least I'm not the only freak around these parts. There's someone else out there, and she's mighty fishy if you get the picture. I want to believe it, and yet I don't want to. What if she knows something about how all this came about? What if she knew where we came from?

Ironically enough, it's not a question I can ask my mother.

I'm never usually this bad in the morning, you know what they say, how the early bird gets the worm. But come on, if you hadn't slept for about a month you'd be feeling pretty damn exhausted as well.

At some point I managed to drag myself up and make a bit of toast with peanut butter. I was munching away on it, barely conscious of what I was doing, when the phone rang and made me hit myself in the eye with the crust. Reaching over, I snatched it off the hook and banged it against my ear, still crunching away.

"Emily, is that you?" Stupid question, Cass always knew who I was. I was the only one who actually used the phone rather than fiddling with some beeping pager. Plus Robert and Naomi encouraged phone use for some reason, although I suspected they tapped the lines.

Still debating whether to call them 'Robert and Naomi' or 'Mom and Dad'. The issue's really beginning to bug me.

"Nng," was my ever articulate first-thing-in-the-morning reply.

"Yeah, I called up Max earlier and guess what? It turns out he had nothing to do so we started talking and then we tried to call you on your cell but it was turned off, as always, and then..."

I rubbed my eye, trying to get the bits of bread out, adding an occasional grunt to assure her that I was listening, even if I wasn't. Cass talked too fast even on her best days so sometimes it was tough to keep track of her ramblings.

"So now we went to get his car and we're coming over right now!"

This fact had barely enough time to register in my thoughts when a loud hammering started at the door.

"Open up, fashion police!"

I groaned and slowly got up out of my seat. I was so going to kill Max for driving her here. Then again, it was probably safer than her driving them here, but still. Maxxie really has to learn how to say no to people, or he'll just get walked all over.

You know what? I really don't care if my friends see my horridness first thing in the morning. I pretty much look the same in embarrassing frilly teddy bear PJs than in school clothes. But I DID care about the fact that a certain guy was standing behind Max, looking for all the world like he'd just won the lottery.

I'm never going to hear the end of this.

"Nice pajamas," Jeremy snickered, "but I'm surprised you didn't get fairies, you know, with your huge love for magical critters."

I was sorely tempted to grab the hideous Ming Dynasty vase my mother loved so much off the side table and smash it over his head, but decided his lowly skull wasn't worth smashing with such a valuable object. "Okay, so who invited the loser?" I demanded. Cass and Max both looked guiltily at each other.

"Wasn't me," they said in sync.

Sighing, I headed back upstairs. "Wait here, I need to get ready."

Quickly, I grabbed my swimsuit, some flip-flops, a towel, and shoved them into a plastic bag. Then I threw on some clothes, tied up my greasy hair and that was that. I mean, I was going to be going swimming, so there was no point in washing it. Before heading down, I took a couple of deep breaths. After all, I'd need all my strength if I was going to cope with a certain tall, dark, and incredibly annoying, invader.

Max had his head under the table on which the television was set. He looked like he was doing something with the wires to fix the ever-broken Xbox (educational games only, my mother had ordered). It was sort of his thing to do every time he came over. Not that he actually ever managed to repair it. Cassie, as per usual, was making a nuisance of herself, making him accidently whack his head when she tickled his feet.

I strolled into the kitchen. "Mind not infecting the family juice, Germy?" I said, dragging out the last word to sound like his name.

"Aren't you a little old to believe in cooties, Emily?" he shot back, taking another swig from the carton, "and the name's Jerry, got it?"

"Keep the Tropicana," I grimaced, “and let me guess...you have a brother named Thomas?"

"Cousin," he corrected stiffly.

"Hah! Tom and Jerry!" I snorted in a ladylike fashion.

"My Uncle George has a strange sense of humor."

"Must run in the family" I said, grabbing a piece of bread and opted to scarf it down.

He raised his eyebrows. "If that were true, you'd be called Roberta Robertson."

Okay, this was getting weirder by the second. Normally, Jeremy (now known as Jerry) wouldn't go for the snubs, he'd charge right in with attacks. It's hard to explain how that worked, but he didn't seem to be his annoying usual self. Not that I cared about the source of his possible depression, but it kind of made me feel like a bully when the other person wasn't fighting back.

Wow, I cannot believe I just analyzed all that just from his mood swing. It just goes to show that I've always considered him an enemy, and you'd better keep damn good tabs on them.

"If you two are done fighting like a bunch of bloodthirsty hyenas in the same room as a gourmet T-bone and a waiter, could we please get a move on?" Cass practically dragged us out the front door.

"I could forgive you for bringing a moron along, but you had better have a good reason for a PMSing one. And 'because he's hot' does not count as a good reason," I hissed at her.

Cass sighed. "Give the guy a break, Emily. He just got rejected by Jussie the other day."

"Gee, I wonder why," I muttered sarcastically. "As if Justine Reed would go out with someone like him."

"Rumor has it she's made half the guys in the school depressed, even a few of the freshmen follow her around like little sharks chase after a bleeding surfer that was in their territory in the middle of the ocean."

"Says the girl who decided she felt like sucking face with Max's stepbrother."

"Hey, I only kissed that guy because I was drunk!" she objected.

"The only thing you drank was Sprite, and that has no alcohol in it. You probably don't even know his name," I pointed out to the heartbreaking protégé.

"So? I was drunk on soft drink then! And of course I know his name! It's...it's...Matthew!"

"Sorry, it was Mark. His brother's Matthew. Then there's Luke and John but they're much younger so I don’t think even you would confuse them. Or make out with them."

We all piled into the car, Cass and I occupying the backseats as Max revved up the engine. "Hey, do you mind if I stay over sometime next week? My future brother-in-law's uncle and his husband are supposed to be freeloading and they're dead boring."

"Your sister's fiancé has a husband?" I asked, unrolling the window and sticking my head out for the wonderful wind tunnel effect.

"No!" she exclaimed as we hit a particularly nasty bump, "his uncle does!"

My hair swirled around me. "Sorry, couldn't catch that!" I shouted over the wind.

"I said," Cass yelled, "that his uncle is gay!" She shouted so loudly several pedestrians turned and gave me a funny expression, as though I had been the one hollering.

Max turned around. "Guess what? No one cares!"

"Eyes on the road, Maxxie, eyes on the road"

"This is none of your business Jerry!"

Okay, count down from ten and take three deep breaths. Oh screw that. I don't care what those so-called anger management strategies are.

"SHUT UP!" I bellowed, and there was a small hush of about, oh, five seconds or so before some of the less witty of wits returned.

"God, you're doing my head in, woman. This is more annoying than History class." Three guesses who said that.

"That's only because you're failing." Max pointed out, defending me, but rekindling the old stupid argument all over again. Typical male bonding, I tell you, something I am never going to understand.

Really, I have honestly no idea why I am putting up with this anyway. I don't know or care how many girls rejected Jeremy – I still refuse to call him by his nickname because it would show a sign of friendship, but he was really raining on my wonderful weekend planned with my two best friends.

But I guess I'd have tonight to look forward to, the forecast said it would be cloudy. I would glide effortlessly above the clouds, the only one able to see the stars behind their curtain of evaporated water. I'd be soaked, but it would be worth it. Sighing, I glanced out the car window at an airplane going by. There wasn't an airport around here (you'd have to drive for at least two hours to get here from it), but the government had decided all aircrafts should take a route over this area, because the population was too small to make a significant complaint and their anger could have been thrown out the window.

I sighed, an action that did not go unnoticed by Cass. "Dreaming about your boyfriend?" she whispered slyly. I shot her a look.

Now, there's something you've got to understand about the way our school works with the whole relationship cycle. First, you have the popular ones at the top of the food chain. Why they're considered popular when there's such a small group I don't know. Now I think about it, Cass probably had the makings of a Queen Bee, she could be a bit fake and airheaded, but she didn't sting (as much). She could have been in their group, but chose not to. Hanging out with Max and me kind of put a damper on her status. Plus there was the excessive clumsiness that ruled her out of cheerleading.

Now, as much as the bimbos (including my best friend) would like to have first dibs on the hottest guy of the week, they've got an unwilling competitor in the senior year. Right up with them is probably one of the few genuine girls in the school with a high social ranking. Her name's Justine Reed, the one we were gossiping about back in the house. She has long auburn hair (a color I've always envied), with natural highlights all through it, and a sort of girl-next-door aura about her. I've only had a few conversations with her, so I don't know her all that well except that she's won heaps of prizes from the Art Department.

Of course, there is a notable group of non-conformists (oxymoron much?) who wear only black and silver with the occasional splash of red. Apparently it's cool to not smile. They pretty much keep to themselves, unlike the so-called preps who everyone wished would keep to themselves. Max could probably have fit into their uncaring little group (heck, sometimes I think a potato could fit into their group with the right clothing), but he didn't want all the obligations the stereotype came with. He doesn't do eyeliner. Nah, neither of us really have an opinion of them. I've stashed their cigarettes or whatever in my locker a few times as a favor so they don't get kicked out.

Then there's Brooke, a junior, and the rest of her wild and whacky crew. Some classes she hadn't bothered to take in her freshmen year, so she has to do them now in order to graduate. That's why we have PE together, it's mandatory for at least two years.

"Hello? Emily! Emily!" My god whoever is screaming sounds like a banshee. I almost leaped out of my seat, and promptly tumbled out of the open door.

"Cassandra Aqua Silverpool..." I began.

"We're here!" she shouted grabbing my hand and half-dancing half-dragging me across into the change rooms.

"We're here!" Jeremy squealed in a mock imitation of her, clapping his hands together and trying to grab Max, who have him a don’t-even-think-about-it look, which was all I saw before I was towed into the ladies' room.

"Now, you know I really don't care much about clothes, but why are you wearing the swim team uniform?" I asked Cass, who scowled.

"My damn bikini got lost," she said, throwing a Roxy swim shirt over it to cover the garish logo.

"You lost your bikini?" I started incredulously.

"Hey, weirder things have happened. Remember that time when all the girls' underwear went missing while the swimming gala was on?"

I cringed at the memory. "Yep, we all had to wear sodden swimsuits under our clothes for the rest of the day."

"Brooke didn’t, she said she'd rather go commando, and she did. And then Amy got her period..." I rolled my eyes.

"That day was a complete disaster. They never did find the culprit, did they?"

"Nup, but at least I set a new record for the 100 meters butterfly!"

"Doing a hundred meters of butterfly is cruel and unusual punishment," I groaned, picking up my goggles and adjusting the straps.

My friend pouted and marched over, "I love butterfly, and I refuse to be seen with someone wearing these," she said, snatching my airtight eye protectors. "Whoa!" she cried, slipping backwards across the tiled floor and crashing into an elderly woman.

The large Chinese woman gave Cass a withering glare as she adjusted her hairnet. There aren't many visitors around here, and I think one was just scared away from ever returning.
That was why everyone was making such a big deal over the pit stop those guys were making, it's not like there was anything better to gossip about.

"Did you see how saggy she was?" Cass hissed when she was out of earshot. "Ugh, I'd rather have plastic surgery then look like that when I'm older."

"Fine, but don't blame me when your body parts start falling off."

"Hey, Emily..." Cass looked very concerned about something. She wasn't normally this serious.

"What is it?" I asked, fearing the worst.

"...what should I wear when those guys come to visit?" she finished, making me want to slap myself on the forehead. I should have known. "Oh well, I'll think about it later. Come on, let's go swimming!" she said, pumping her fist in the air. Talk about mood swings.

We walked out to the pool. It was pretty nifty, what they had done. It was basically a pool, with a huge sort of tent around it. It's hard to explain, but it was nice and toasty inside. Walking over to the poolside, I nervously tested the water with my foot. Cass just dived straight in the deep end. I swear, that girl does not feel the cold.

I glanced around the pool area, searching for Max and Jeremy. It was unusually crowded today, there were people lying on deck chairs and grannies in the spa. Little kids splashed away on toy noodles while their parents coddled over them.

I smiled and slid slowly into the water, remembering last time we had been here. We ended up getting kicked out, but Cass flirted with the lifeguard and he let us back in. Brooke had just snuck back in through the boys' bathroom. She came out with a very smug grin as though she knew things we didn’t.

Eventually I spotted my friend and juice carton defiler (man it's fun making up these nicknames) at the edge of the pool, talking. They were so deep into their conversation they didn't even notice me until I was right next to them.

"Oh, hey Emily," Max said. Was it just me or did he sound disappointed that I was here?

"C'mon," I said dragging him by the arm, "let's go down the waterslide headfirst, I dare ya!"

Max didn't need to say anything, he simply pointed out a nearby sign with a poorly drawn stick figure smashing his head on the pool's bottom. Ever the party pooper.

Well, the thing about Max is that I don't quite think he has hydrophobia, but he definitely holds water in some contempt. Based on a New Year bonfire party at Lulu's, he seemed quite the pyromaniac, as his hair might have suggested.

"But Maxxie," I whined, "you can't just stand there all the time!"

"Swimming is overrated." For once, I agreed with him.

"Cass doesn't think so; she's busy practicing her butterfly kick...or checking out the guy over there. Whichever."

“Really?” the redhead seemed half interested now.

Jeremy was feeling a little left out, "So why would you care about who Cass is checking out anyway?" At this, Max fell silent, suspiciously so.

For an idiot, he certainly has his brilliant moments. My mouth opened in a little 'o' of surprise, and my eyes widened so that my eyebrows almost met my hairline.

"Max...you...Cass...no way! But you...she's so-" I stammered out.

"-shallow, superficial, and pushy?" he rattled off dryly. "So I've heard over a million and one times from Jerry."

"I was going to say 'different'," I told them. "You two just seemed so much like...complete opposites."

"That was a very polite way of saying 'you're not her type', wasn't it?"

"You know that's not what I meant, Max. And Jeremy," I frowned at him. "Cass isn't half as flaky as you think." Although come to think of it, she musta been pretty stupid if she had though for one moment that Jeremy was attractive. "Speaking of which..." I began, "where did she head off too?"

Almost in answer to my question, a loud whooping filled the air. Like a bullet, the blond girl shot out of the waterslide and splashed into the water. She flexed her arms under the water and kicked her way towards us. Watching her use her famous butterfly kick, I couldn't help but admire the flawlessness of the stroke. It was like her legs were glued together and she'd been practicing since the moment she was born.

She resurfaced, not even slightly out of breath. "Stupid chlorine," she grumbled, furiously rubbing her now red eyes. "If my hair turns green because of it or so help me I'll..." None of us even bothered to hear the rest.

"I'm going to get some lemonade," Jeremy offered. "Who wants some?" A chorus of 'me!' followed. "Thanks Emily for volunteering to help me carry them."

"Your welco-" a knee-jerk reflex, "-what?!" Before I knew what was happening I had been practically hoisted out of the water. Damn boys and their upper body strength.

"What are you doing?" I demanded as he pulled me along.

"Giving Cass and Max some alone time."

"We'll be gone barely five minutes, I doubt Max can grow a backbone in that amount of time. Besides, what if Cassie doesn't like him? Then it'll be all awkward in our group, which, as I might add, only has three people. And what if they do go out? What if they ditch me and go off in their own little world? Or if they break up? Then what?" It all started coming out in a pretty big rush before I knew what was happening.

Jeremy stared like I'd grown an extra brain and suggested we all go off hunting dragons. "Well, you of all people should know how Cass feels about Max."

"I don't! She's never even thought of him as boyfriend material! You know her type; older athletic boneheads. Hell, you are her type!"

He ignored my quip. "Just bring it up to her casually, but don't insinuate that Max has stuff to do with it."

"Oh my god, the bonehead just said 'insinuate'!" Ladies and gentlemen, you may now all die of shock.

"Just talk to Cassie, alright?"

"Don't you even know what she did with his stepbrother of all people!"

"Yes, I've heard. He told me."

"Did you blackmail him?"

"No, it came up in a conversation," he said stiffly. Figures. I bet he and Max must have been having a nice little pity party about how woeful their love lives are. But there's an easy fix to both their problems. Max needs to get out more, and Jeremy has to stop being such a player.

I gave in. "Fine, I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, Special Agent Robertson." Jeremy said, flashing one of those killer smiles that
drew the ladies (and the Colgate commercial advertisers) to him.

"Just doing my job, Officer Jerry, just doing my job." Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

"What 'choo guys talking about?" Cass came up behind us, slipping and grabbing onto our shoulders for support.”

“Nothing," Jeremy said dismissively to change the subject, "have you seen Max?"

Cass frowned and looked around. "Huh? I'm sure I saw him a moment ago..." then she gasped, looking horrified.

It didn't take long to figure out what she was staring at. Because, right in front of the waterslide's exit, a couple of lifesavers were pulling the limp body of a boy from the pool.