Chapter Text
Sunlight streams cheerily through the window, shining bright behind Lewis’s eyelids and dragging him out of a deep sleep.
“Nnngh,” he groans petulantly, twisting away from the happy sun. Alas, it has already woken him, and sleep will no longer have him. Frustrated with the unavoidable light, he pulls himself up to sit at the edge of his bed, head flopping tiredly to the side.
Unfortunately, the motion also brings overdue attention to his crusty skin and the bits of sand plastered against his face. And everything that happened last night.
The memory rushes in with all the grace of a brick to the stomach.
Lewis is no longer tired.
That…that happened, he thinks, flopping back on his bed and trying not to drown. He is not ready to deal with everything that comes with being a- a merman.
Well, at least today is a teacher-in-service day. How much worse would this be if he had to go to school on top of everything else? Anxiety stirs like a rousing dragon.
Okay, this isn’t going to work…The girls! I need to check on the girls. Lewis pops back up and digs his phone out of his pocket, welcoming the distraction. The screen lights up with his background image, a picture taken of him and his friends at the beach, unimpeded by any notifications. That is most likely a sign that the girls are fine and didn’t need any help, but it could also be that they were all moonstruck simultaneously and of course wouldn’t have called him then, oh that better not have happened.
8:18 AM. The moon set at…well, a minute ago, so the risk should be over. That’s…weird. Brushing off the coincidence, he calls Cleo, his oldest friend between the girls, and sags in relief when she picks up on the third ring. “Lewis! How are you?” she chirps, a little too upbeat.
“O-oh, um. I’m good.” He definitely is not. Moving on, then, “Hey, are you three alright? Did any of you get moonstruck?” Lewis asks, more than eager to draw the subject away from himself and make sure his friends are alright.
“Well…” comes the very reassuring response.
“Cleo, what happened?” he asks, dread immediately pooling in his stomach. So much for assuaging his anxiety.
“Nothing bad this time! I promise,” she rushes out. “Rikki got moonstruck, but-”
“Rikki got moonstruck!?” Lewis’s chest constricts violently. Rikki’s last full moon was bad, ending with the Gilberts’ kitchen trashed, Emma herself grounded, and a good portion of Mako burnt to a crisp. “What do you mean, ‘nothing bad this time’!? Why didn’t you call me?” They didn’t message him, but he should have been there.
He wasn’t there at all. He was on Mako. He risked his friends’ safety for an impromptu science experiment and a mistake.
“Woah, Lewis! Relax, okay? We were going to call you, but she wasn’t doing any harm, so Emma and I thought we’d let you sleep,” Cleo quickly replies, trying to assuage her frantic (and overprotective, in her quiet opinion) friend. “She got stuck with a tail and was acting more like Emma the first time. We gave her a bag of frozen tilapia, put on an ocean documentary, and she was good.”
“Okay, alright, sorry. I’m just a little on edge, I guess. But please call me next time. We all know how quickly full moons can go from weird to worst. I’m just glad you’re all okay,” he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. Ugh, he really needs a shower. With water…
He grimaces painfully, trying to push away the thought as shuffling comes through the line instead of a straight reply. “Yeah, yeah, we’re all fine and dandy,” Rikki’s ever-so-delightful voice comes through the speaker. “You know Emma’s family doesn’t have any OTC pain meds right now? It’s all this holistic junk.” An indignant voice sounds indistinctly in response. “It’s junk, Ems, don’t give me that. Anyways, JuiceNet at ten, bring me Tylenol. Not Advil. I have a headache the size of the Pacific.”
Without giving Lewis even a moment to reply, Rikki hangs up, likely to the protest of Emma and Cleo. Well, nice to hear she’s alright. His eyes roll at the familiar behavior.
If they are meeting at ten, that leaves Lewis less than two hours to clean up and get there. Normally, this would be more than enough time. Now, however, he doesn’t have a clue.
Yet regardless of how badly he just wants to ignore his new situation, the grittiness of his skin is quickly becoming intolerable.
Breathing heavily through his nose, Lewis grabs a change of clothes and trudges across the hall to the expanded upstairs bathroom, unfortunately shared with three of his brothers. Thank goodness none of them are using it right now.
He locks the door and triple-checks its security. Call him paranoid, but he will not be taking risks with this family. Sparing a longing glance at the shower, he grabs his soaps off the shelf and instead twists the tap for the large bath tub that he suddenly has reason to be grateful for.
Water impacts the drain and sprays back onto Lewis’s arms, and that alarmingly familiar sensation under his skin returns. Gasping sharply, he flies away from the half-sunken tub and rips his towel off the rack, frantically raking it across his skin.
The seconds tick away all the while, and he doesn’t dare pause until his mental count reaches zero. Nothing happens. He peeks at his legs - yep, still there.
Lewis breathes out shakily. Sure, he’s safe behind closed doors at the moment, but this incident only shows just how little control he has over himself now.
If he has to transform and confront this, it needs to be on his terms. Yet with only a few drops on his arms, that small bit of control was almost ripped away entirely.
I’m not ready, I am NOT ready!
Minutes tick by as the tub fills, steam gently curling into the bright, sunlit room. Lewis stares at it the whole time, focusing on his breath and calming down. When the water finally reaches the overflow, Lewis carefully reaches over to shut off the valve. The water ripples gently, so similar to how the moon pool usually is - unassuming, like it can’t easily transform him into a mythical, magical merperson. Agh.
Lips pressed in a thin line, he pulls off last night’s dirty clothes and steps one foot into the tub. He has to face this. Already wet and with no way to dry quickly enough, he’ll be forced to either way.
I’ll never be ready.
The realization actually settles his nerves somewhat, and Lewis closes his eyes and sinks into the steaming water as the sensation of magic returns. Panic coils in his stomach, but he does his best to shove it down. He has already freaked out so much. It’s time to look forward, as terrifying as it seems. The welcome heat of the water seeps into his sore muscles, loosening a little of the tension as well.
Forcing his eyes open takes an unprecedented amount of effort when the magic starts to tug at his form. However, he resolutely watches as faint, golden tracers wrap around his body, shimmering and shifting like sunlight on the undisturbed sea floor. Then comes the sensation of his very being changing fundamentally - his neck shifts to accommodate slits on the sides, the muscles and bones in his legs lengthen and merge together into something else - then it’s gone.
Oh. Wow.
Lewis remembers the sight of his tail under the moon, of course. That entire night is branded into his memory. Under the morning sun, however, it is so vibrant. Smooth, overlapping scales gleam that soft, seafoam green in the light, scattering iridescence like seaspray. Yet now, the sun reveals gradient yellow lined with thin, orange patterns twisting upwards like flowing kelp and streaking into his tail fin. And the fin, rayed and delicate yet angular and powerful, is built to slice through water like a knife.
It extends past the edge of the bathtub, simply too long to be contained. Curious, Lewis tries to move it. The glittering fin flexes open and presses back against the cool, sandy tile platform lining the lip of the tub. That feels weird, like flexing a single foot but also both at the same time, plus impossibly flexible. He’s suddenly working with an entirely new physiology, yet somehow his body just knows how it works.
Uncomfortable with the coolness registered by brand new nerves, Lewis holds the end of his tail up so just the corners of his fin brush the tile. Overwhelmed, he runs a hand through his hair but stops immediately at the awful texture.
Right. He is taking a bath for a reason. How do the girls wash their tails? He should ask them. He has a lot to ask them.
Focusing first on his hair, Lewis procrastinates as much as he can before finally reaching his tail. A hand brushes tentatively over the transition where pale skin seamlessly melts into gleaming scales. It’s surreal to experience such a thing as part of him, especially considering the impossibly perfect blend between mammalian and Osteichthyes biology. For the thousandth time in the last few months, he wonders how merpeople could have possibly come to exist, regardless of the magic involved.
For now, though, he needs to finish washing off so he can meet his friends. While not exactly difficult, he certainly doesn’t enjoy it. The soapy washcloth occasionally catches and tugs his scales so uncomfortably when he drags it the wrong way, but not all the time, which is confusing. By trying to wash the back of his tail, he slips down more than once. Rinsing off his soapy fin, he sits up and pulls his tail close, as if simply pulling his knees to his chest.
He is not pulling his knees to his chest. He is pulling in a single, flexible limb composed of an extended spine, unfamiliar musculature, and an epidermis befitting a fish, not a human. Not Lewis.
Okay, time to get out.
Making the executive decision to be done with this, Lewis reaches forward and flicks open the drain right when the locked door handle clicks. He freezes. Someone is trying to get into the bathroom.
“Who locked the door? I need to get ready,” a younger voice remarks.
“Go downstairs, Matt, I’m gonna be a while,” Lewis responds, shifting around to sit properly. The sooner his little brother leaves, the better.
“Lewis? Are you taking a bath?” the eighth grader says instead, having heard the shifting water.
“So what?” Lewis bites back defensively.
“So, you’re taking forever. What gives? Mom and Dad said to not lock the door.” That is a thing their parents said. With himself, Matt, Rory, and Lenny sharing, that rule is a necessity. Unfortunately, not being discovered by his siblings as a mythical creature is a slightly greater necessity.
“Matt, please just go downstairs,” he returns instead, now annoyed.
“Fine,” comes the snappy reply, followed by shifting feet. “Your girlfriends are really rubbing off on you,” he scoffs.
Usually, Lewis would roll his eyes at the comment. It’s not terribly unusual, given how his closest friends are all girls. His family has known his preference for guys since last year, and his brothers instead poke fun at him about being ‘one of the girls.’
This time, however, the comment is unnervingly accurate. By coincidentally being friends with a group of girls who found themselves in a special place at a special time, he has wound up just like them. Except a merman. Clearly.
It’s not even nine, and Lewis is already completely exhausted. Or maybe exhaustion is a side effect of turning into a merperson overnight?
Sighing deeply, he twists and places his hands on the tile platform, heaving himself awkwardly up from the water. Without legs to brace himself, he has to rely on his arms and core strength, turning a thoughtless task into a clumsy chore.
His tail presses against the sides of the bath, trying to help as his legs would. New muscles contract beneath gem-like scales, and he fights a grimace at the foreign sensation. It is beyond strange to feel his bottom half move like that.
Halfway onto the platform, his hands slip slightly. In the momentary surprise, something flares out behind him. He looks over his shoulder and squeaks.
Starting on his lower back just a little above where the rest of his tail begins, a thin, elegant dorsal fin has flared out.
…I forgot about that.
Of course the girls have those, but Lewis has been so preoccupied by having a tail at all that little details like this fell to the wayside.
…He probably has a power, too. He probably has a magic power that lets him do crazy water magic! What is his life!?
He finally shoves himself up to sit upon the cold tile platform and knots his fingers into soaking hair. “Please, please let this be the end. Let the surprises stop. Can’t this just be an extremely vivid nightmare?” he quietly begs, far too close to tears.
Alas, the tail remains.
Four, seven, eight. Four, seven, eight, he repeats the breathing exercise, laying there until the stone tile warms under him and the cold leaves his muscles aching.
By the time Lewis finally sits up to grab his blessedly large and fluffy towel, the water has drained and much of him is already dry. The sandy marble platform between the tub and the wall is a blessing he has never needed to appreciate, but now he really, really does.
Would it be too early to call it a day?
Lewis transforms back in that same shimmering rush, resigned to being late but thankfully over his panic. Huffing frustratedly, he grabs his phone off the sink counter. 9:48. That figures, considering his battle against the bathroom. That sounded better in my head.
Throwing on his clothes, he runs to his room and nearly tramples one of his older brothers, Rory, on the way.
“Uh, breakfast’s ready,” the college student calls confusedly.
“Thanks,” Lewis responds over his shoulder while entering his bedroom, immediately tripping on the metal case. His other foot jumps forward only to catch on his backpack, sending him sprawling face first onto the wood floor. What a glorious ‘day off’ this is turning out to be.
“Woah, you alright?” Oh, Rory’s still there.
“All but my pride,” he groans into the pale surface, not bothering to move just yet. Now his arms hurt.
“...Dad cooked since we’re all here today,” Rory says, awkwardly plucking at the sleeves of his Gold Coast International sweater.
Lewis immediately pushes his face off the ground. “I’ll be down in a minute,” he replies. Their dad is by far the best cook in the house, so he definitely doesn’t want to come down to find that somebody stole his food. All of his brothers are guilty of it. Even Lewis can’t claim innocence. Even their mum does it.
Rory steps downstairs while Lewis grabs his book bag and wallet. Maybe he can get in some studying after meeting the girls. Their history essay is due next Monday anyways.
He hesitates while dragging last night’s gear away from the door and his feet. There is so much to unpack - literally and figuratively - and he simply does not possess the emotional capacity to do it all right now. Although…
Carefully, Lewis flips up the latches and pries open the silvery lid. Inside is a sandy disaster of cords and equipment laying so haphazardly it’s a wonder he got the case closed in the first place. However, the vials in the side pocket are all intact.
And some of them are glowing.
Woah.
Delicately, Lewis picks up one of the brightest vials. Floating at the top is the large, golden droplet he caught last night, right before-
No. Stop. Can’t do anything about it now.
Breathing out slowly, he shields the vial in his hand. The glow seeps through his fingers just slightly before being drowned out by the morning light. How? How is it still active? Is it actually still active?
Brimming with questions, Lewis slips the test tubes in the inner pocket of his bag. His research notebook slips into the bag as well, the faded, dark blue cover just peeking from behind his school supplies.
Forget the library; South Coast High’s prized spectrometer is a much better use of his day.
…Oh. Wait. Teacher-In-Service day. He has no way of accessing the school’s science equipment. First thing in the morning, then. Lewis disappointedly replaces the vials in the case for safekeeping.
Not wasting another moment, Lewis races downstairs to breakfast while fumbling with his phone. ‘Got caught up at home, I’ll be late,’ he sends in the group chat, stuffing the device in his pocket as he reaches the kitchen. The background murmur from before quickly becomes a dull roar, as is expected in a six-person household.
Steeling his nerves under the weight of the biggest secret he has kept from his family since he came out, Lewis sets his bag by the front door on his way to the breakfast table.
“G’morning, Lewis! I made you a plate,” Leon, Lewis’s dad, gestures to the plate on the counter from the other side of the table.
Sure enough, an alluring plate of french toast, berries, eggs, and bacon sits safely on the counter. “Thanks, Dad,” Lewis responds gratefully over the clamor of family breakfast. While the dishes on the table are practically being licked clean, everyone knows not to touch a pre-made plate. Picking up said glorious plate, he crosses the open kitchen to the dining table, only making an aborted motion towards the fridge on the way. Probably better to avoid drinking anything for now.
He doesn’t think much of sliding into the open seat across Lenny, his second oldest brother, drowning his plate in homemade sugarcap syrup and beside Matt arguing with Rory over bacon. The first bite of the savory toast is heaven as always, but the escalating fight across the table of course diminishes the effect.
“C’mon, Matt, let me have it! You’ve already had four,” Rory argues from the other side of the table, fork pinning one side of the bacon to the serving plate.
“So have you! And you already had the last bite of eggs,” Matt retorts, trying to shove Rory’s fork away.
“And you had an entire extra piece of french toast!”
“Just split it,” Lewis intones, already over the argument.
“NO!” both brothers exclaim, their sudden movement shaking the table. And rattling the drinks.
Lewis sucks in a sharp breath, freezing in place as he eyes Matt’s orange juice, precariously close to the edge. He should have moved it when he had the chance. Why didn’t I- he’s just sitting here amidst his family, but not actually like them anymore- They have no idea; one drop could change all of that!
The glass remains upright, and Lewis cautiously sets it far away from him as the argument progresses. He misses how his mother’s eyebrows scrunch together in concern.
“You’ll just drown it in syrup, Matt!”
“Syrup goes with everything!”
“So why don’t you just have that instead!?”
“Mum, Dad, can you make them stop?” Lenny groans.
“Oh, come on, this is better than television,” Leon intones, more entertained by the conflict than he probably should be.
Melissa suddenly stands up before her sons and husband at the end of the table. Rory and Matt fall quiet, and Leon immediately looks too innocent. Rather than say anything, she reaches over the food, plucks the offending piece of bacon off the plate, and takes a large bite. “There,” she says around the mouthful, “problem solved.”
Rory deflates like a poked water balloon, but Matt is incensed. “That- that’s not fair!”
The Look he receives sends him quietly back into his chair.
Leon breaks the brief silence, glancing at his phone. “Did you all see Randy’s text this morning in the family chat? He got an internship at the GCPD forensics lab, so he’ll be staying here for a few months at least.”
All four boys tense, looking at each other warily.
“So that means two of you will have to share a room again,” Melissa finishes, and the tension snaps.
“Not it! Seniority rules.”
“He stayed with me last time. I’m not doing it again!”
“I didn’t have a room to myself ‘til he moved out in the first place!”
Rather than throw his voice in the mix, Lewis looks down at his mostly empty plate, barely breathing. This? On top of everything? He won’t have space to breathe at all if he has to share a room with any of his brothers. Not to mention if they get curious about any of his notebooks or samples? Bad. Very, very bad.
“Hey, hey!” Dad snaps over the commotion and snaps Lewis back to reality. “You have a month to figure it out between the five of you, but we’ll decide for you if you can’t.”
The siblings eye each other skeptically. This will not be so easily dismissed, and Lewis has no intention of sharing the only place he can relax at all. This means war.
He sighs over his plate, but the conversation moves on.
“Lewis, hon, have you been taking Emma’s advice? Your skin looks incredible,” his mom intones, another voice within two and a half other conversations.
Lewis himself chokes on bacon, eyeing his mom as he tries his best for nonchalant. “Uh, y-yeah, sorry. Cleo gave me stuff to use. Figured I’d try it out.” Liar, liar, tail on fire. Well, it’s not like he can say, ‘no, actually, merpeople just automatically get flawless skin.’
“Woah, bro, guess your friends really are rubbing off on you. Is that what took you so long this morning?” Matt pokes towards his brother with a fork.
“Seriously, ’s like you’re actually shimmering, Twilight boy,” Lenny chimes in from the sticky puddle of his plate, attention drawn away from his conversation with Leon.
Lewis, however, half hides his reddened face behind one hand. “Can we please stop talking about my skin now?”
“Oh, Mum, Dad, would either of you be able to help me out later? My engine light came on,” Lenny mentions, and Lewis sinks into his seat, relieved at the subject change.
Wanting to not keep his friends waiting any longer, he quickly finishes his food, sets the dishes by the sink, and opens the medicine cabinet. “We have any Tylenol, Mum?”
“Uh, yeah, middle shelf on the left. You alright?” she asks from the table.
“Oh, yeah, it’s for Rikki.”
Melissa raises a brow. “Ibuprofen will work better for her.”
Lewis rolls his eyes good-naturedly at the assumption. “She’s just got a headache, Mum. Thanks, though.”
As he slips the little bottle into his bag, his dad catches his attention. “Make sure to wash your dishes before you go, yeah?”
Lewis freezes. That is water. Oh, his family will be upset, but better that than the alternative. “Can’t, sorry, I’m already late!” he rushes, tripping over his words and the floor in his rush out the door.
Once on the sidewalk, the spike of panic recedes, and he pulls on his backpack the rest of the way.
As soon as Lewis steps into the JuiceNet, he slams straight into an unwelcome figure. “Sorr- Oh, just you,” he states, starting past his spoiled classmate.
“Woah, Lewis, backpack on a free day? Nerdiness never takes a break, does it?” Zane taunts.
Lewis just rolls his eyes and searches for his friends, brows furrowing slightly when he doesn’t see them. “I am a geek, if you’re going to keep trying to insult me, but obviously unoriginality sticks around, too,” he retorts, brushing by the dark-haired teen.
He walks up to the bar, shrugging off the other’s passing scoff of “Whatever.”
“G’morning, Wilfred. Could I get a strawberry mango smoothie?” he asks, standing well away from the drinks on the counter for DoorDash orders.
“Sure thing, Lewis, go take a seat,” the kind cafe owner says, so Lewis pays, bids his thanks, and claims a booth on the side of the cafe near the back doors. His eyes stay up, watching the bustle of the late morning cafe. Each clank and clatter unnerves him, and he flinches when a customer knocks their full glass of orange juice off the table. It’s on the other side of the building, but the reminder of his special situation sits heavy in his chest. He barely manages a smile when the barista brings out his drink, but he doesn’t touch it.
How is he going to tell the girls what happened? They’ll definitely be upset - Rikki especially. For all that she acts recklessly, his actions have put them all at risk.
Lewis’s leg shakes impatiently; his thoughts are not decent company at the moment.
About ten minutes later, the familiar trio slips into the booth, Cleo next to him and Emma and Rikki across. With…Rikki holding Emma’s hand to her forehead?
“Y’know the worst part of all of this?” Rikki starts immediately. “Can’t use a cold pack because the condensation would pretty much end my life,” she says, eyes closed against the supernatural coolness of her disgruntled friend’s hand.
“Sorry we’re late, Lewis, but somebody couldn’t be bothered to help clean up her own mess,” Emma huffs frustratedly.
“Yeah, well, we let you take it easy after your full moon,” the hotheaded mermaid retorts before reaching a hand towards Lewis. “Gimme.”
Rolling his eyes at the familiar behavior, the fledgeling merman fishes out the Tylenol from his backpack and hands it over. “Glad to see you’re as cheery as ever.” The banter is familiar and comforting and squashes a little of the tension he has been carrying since waking up.
“Yeah, yeah, all good here,” Rikki deadpans, popping three of the high strength pills and snatching Lewis’s smoothie by the dry rim before he has a chance to stop her.
“Wh-hey,” he whines as she quickly downs a third of it. “I was gonna drink that.”
“Yeah, thanks for that,” she sighs, leaning back against the booth and grabbing Emma’s fallen hand again. “I just didn’t feel like waiting.”
“You should have seen the mess she made,” Cleo giggles to his left. “Frozen fish got everywhere. I still don’t know how she got it stuck to the ceiling!”
“Oh Cleo, that’s for me to have forgotten and you to never know,” Rikki smirks, apparently satisfied with her moonstruck self’s work.
Amidst his friends’ lighthearted banter, Lewis’s heart slowly sinks. With the constant risk of reveal hanging over their heads, moments like these are a welcome reprieve. He is supposed to be the one helping and protecting them from harm, and he has already risked that irreparably.
No. No, he can’t weigh them down with this - at least not right now. He definitely has to tell them, and he will. Soon.
“Lewis, are you alright?” Cleo asks, pulling his attention away from the table. All three mermaids look at him with varied expressions of concern. No, he really can’t burden them anymore.
“Y-yeah, sorry, just…thinking about the history essay due Monday,” he answers, forcing his voice to stay steady. He will not tell them about his little trip; he will not tell them about his tail - maybe until he has a better handle on everything.
Rikki’s face twists in disgust. “Ugh, we were having such a nice time. Why’d you have to bring up school?”
Lewis’s smile becomes a little more natural.
“We were just talking about Rikki’s headache,” Cleo says, cluing him into the conversation.
Emma leans forward a bit, taking her hand back to Rikki’s protest. “I think it’s some kind of moon spell hangover. It’s happened to all of us once now, but I didn’t think much of it before.”
“I don’t get it, though,” Rikki cuts in. “I didn’t feel like this last time, even with all the panic and the…fire, apparently.”
Lewis narrows his eyes in thought. This is what he can still do - helping his friends identify the details of their problems and figuring out solutions. “Well, considering the events, the only inconsistency I can think of is how you went to the moon pool that night, even after the apex. Maybe that…I don’t know. I have no idea why that would make a difference,” the merman rests his head on his hand, frustrated by the lack of logic in magic, and his own lack of knowledge regarding it.
“It’s alright, Lewis,” Cleo comforts, resting a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll figure this out, and your idea at least gives us something to go off of for the next full moon.”
Lewis sighs and acquiesces, letting the discussion drop for now. Thankfully, the conversation drifts back to lighter topics with no water-related incidents, which he counts as a win. He doesn’t get his smoothie back, though.
“Hey, what was it like in the moon pool the first time?” he asks haltingly, not looking up from the table.
All three girls tense. “You’ve never asked that before,” Rikki points out.
“Well, right. I uhh, I realized,” Lewis scrambles to word his response to leave out the compare-his-own-experience part. “While I want to understand this phenomenon scientifically, a significant aspect I’ve been overlooking is your own experiences; what you saw, heard, felt, et cetera.” The explanation is cringeworthy at best, but Lewis really hopes his slow and careful response will not be picked apart too thoroughly.
“Well,” Emma starts off, “The cavern was really ominous at first, like you’d imagine it would be. But the longer we were there by the pool, the more relaxed I felt. In retrospect, it probably should’ve been the other way around.”
Cleo scrunched her brow. “I felt that too, actually. You all know how nervous I was about swimming out of there. I kinda felt like if I waited longer, I wouldn’t have to worry anymore. It was really weird though, so I thought it was just intrusive thoughts.”
“You mean I wasn’t losing it back there?” Rikki chimes in, spinning the straw in Lewis’s half-empty drink. The girls share a glance with each other, then back at Lewis. “I’d think your sciency self would be writing all this down already.”
Right- right! He should be writing this down. It sounds familiar already. Yet the question remains, why didn’t they transform in the moon pool, too? Lewis pulls his blue notebook from his bag and flips to a new page, scratching ‘First Experiences’ at the top.
“It was glowing quite a bit when we got there,” Emma continues. “The rocks, the water; even before the moon came overhead. And the water didn’t feel nearly as cold as it did outside of the cave. It wasn’t warm, but more like how it feels to us now.”
“Then the moon came overhead, and the entire cave lit up like a magical Christmas tree,” Cleo jumps in. “These little gold droplets floated up from the water, too. It was so beautiful. I could’ve stared at it forever. Then Emma started letting go of me, and I kinda snapped out of it, I guess.”
Emma’s brows furrowed. “I didn’t even think about how long I’d been staring at the moon until Cleo grabbed back onto me, but I don’t remember letting go of her. It was…strange. I didn’t feel worried at all, which was even stranger, so I mentioned leaving and swam out.”
“What about you, Rikki?” Cleo prompts the hotheaded mermaid, who stares at the drink unseeing.
“Same everything, except Emma’s voice snapped me out of it. Felt like I should be concerned but wasn’t, half dragged Cleo to get out of there. Also smelled like rain,” she says evenly before her eyes snap up. “Why haven’t we compared notes before now? This is freaky. Mako was legitimately messing with our heads from the start. What would’ve happened if we didn’t snap out of it? More powers? Permanent tails? Losing our minds completely? I don’t like this at all.”
Lewis looks down, white as a sheet. He hadn’t even thought of those possibilities. What if that had happened to him? To his friends? Is there any guarantee it won’t still happen? Despite the similarities, his full moon was different from theirs.
“-Lewis? Are you alright?” Emma’s voice cuts through the rising panic, and Lewis releases his death grip on the pen.
“Ah, y-yeah, I just-” he stutters and stalls, mouth uncomfortably dry, “I’m just…glad that didn’t happen.” To any of us, he finishes in his head. “We- we can go over more questions later. Let’s talk about something else right now,” he diverts while shoving the notebook back into the bag.
The girls share a look at the odd behavior. Lewis seems more unsettled by the thought than any of them.
The group spends a few hours at the Juicenet, Lewis and Emma successfully convincing Cleo and Rikki to at least roughly outline their essays. Sort of. Rikki falls asleep on the table at one point, not that he blames her with a headache like that.
Is that what he has to look forward to next month?
Lewis trails behind the girls as they leave the cafe, passing Zane again. “Back so soon? Did you forget your brain?” Lewis’s quip is rewarded with a sneer.
“Back off, loser, some of us have better things to do than suck up to a bunch of girls,” the other teen snipes back, roughly shouldering the blond on his way to the pickup area.
Lewis scoffs and stalks out of the cafe rather than feed the argument. “What an ass,” he mutters. Something probably happened in the last few hours for the taller teen to jump from instigating arguments to waspish defense, but that is Zane’s problem.
With a huff, Lewis shoves the train of thought aside and drags his feet home. He would absolutely love to hide from the world for an hour, but the samples from Mako may fade at any time. He’ll have to at least attempt preliminary observations before tomorrow.