Real Mermaids Don't Wear Toe Rings by Helene Boudreau Read Free Book Online Page B

it was the miracle cure for cramps.
    I leaned against the bridge’s railing and stared into the water. Weird. The ringing in my ears was back. I guess I should have listened to Dad all those times he’d told me to turn down the volume on my MP3 player.
    A lungful of ocean air cleared my head. Okay, no use stalling anymore. I stepped off the bridge and headed to Bridget’s Diner.
    I could do this. It was just lunch. I excelled at lunch. The waffle fries alone were motivation enough to pull me through.
    “Ja…” The ringing in my ears changed and I thought I heard my name.
    Was it Cori? Was she running late? I looked up the street.
    No. Nobody there.
    Huh. Well, there was nothing stopping me now. Besides, I’d been stuck in the house long enough. Lunch at Bridget’s was just what I needed. I was actually feeling pretty good by the time I stomped up the front steps of the diner.
    Until some idiot slammed into me as I reached for the door.
    “Hey, watch it!” I yelled.
    “Oh, sorry.”
    My cheeks went from chilled to grilled in about 0.7 seconds when I realized who it was.
    “Luke!”
    Note to self: refresh supply of moron sticks.
    “Jade!” He dropped his skateboard. Right on my toe.
    “Sugarplum! Fiddlesticks! Pickle juice!” I channeled all of Gran’s semi-satisfying phony curse words to take the edge off the crushing pain.
    “Oh, crap!” Luke kneeled to pick up his skateboard and hesitated.
    I looked down and cringed. That tail transformation had done a number on my toe nail polish, judging by the Cotton Candy Pink hanging off my nails in chipped bits. And where the heck was my toe ring, anyway?
    “I’m so sorry. I, uh…” Luke stood, no doubt stunned by the shocking state of my feet. He hugged his skateboard to his chest to let me by.
    “No, no, really, it was my fault,” I stammered. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” Dissecting the evidence, that was probably closest to the truth.
    “Well, I’ll own up to the broken toe.” Luke held the door for me. “So let’s call it even?”
    Then, he did it. He smiled that adorable, beaming smile, turning my brain to goo.
    “Uh…y’um.” Geesh! They really should invent a brain implant with a drop-down menu of witty comebacks because right then, I had nothing.
    “You going in?” Luke asked, still holding the door.
    I worked to engage my gross motor skills, which must have looked strange, because Cori and Lainey glanced up from their booth and stared at me, wide-eyed. I turned to Luke once we were inside the diner.
    “Me. Thank you.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I gave myself twenty mental lashings.
    Pronouns. Must grasp correct use of pronouns.
    “You. Welcome,” Luke said in his best robotic voice.
    I snorted. Not the cute little sniffle-snort Lainey was so good at, but at that point, it didn’t seem to matter.
    “Oh, and sorry about that ‘crap’ thing,” he continued.
    “Next time, try pickle juice . It’s surprisingly satisfying.”
    Luke pressed his lips together in a curvy, trying-not-to-laugh smile.
    “What?” I asked.
    “It’s just…” A chuckle escaped from his lips. “Don’t take this the wrong way…”
    I put a hand on my hip. “Spit it out.”
    Luke looked at me and seemed to consider what to say. “You’re…just different from the last time I remember you.”
    “Likewise.” Ha! Give him a taste of his own medicine.
    “Is that good, bad, or indifferent?” he asked.
    “I haven’t decided yet.” I smirked.
    Luke laughed. “I guess I deserved that.” He waved and continued to the counter to chat with his grandfather, Shaky Eddie, before joining his brother at the booth in the front.
    Okay. So maybe Luke wasn’t the evil sixth grader I remembered. Even though I was sure I hadn’t managed to wow him with my conversational skills, at least he didn’t seem to be carrying a grudge over the spin-the-bottle incident. And as long as the Scissor Lips nickname was behind us, maybe it was time for me