The Fate of the Muse

chapter ONE

PROM





“When we’re married, I’ll bring you breakfast in bed every morning.”

I laughed, “Really? Don’t you think that could get a little messy? I mean, what if I want to eat leftover Chinese or something? With chopsticks…”

I reached over for a nail file, pinning the phone between my ear and shoulder.

He kept talking, “We’ll get a couple of dogs that we can take to the beach every day.”

“Will they go surfing with us?” I asked teasingly.

“They’ll probably want to fetch sticks out of the water,” he replied, “Or footballs.”

“I think our poodles might be too small for that,” I said sternly.

“Not if they’re the big kind,” he laughed, “But I was thinking more, like, golden retrievers…”

It had become a kind of game with us, gently teasing each other about how things would be when we could finally be together. Ethan had been bringing up the future more and more, describing to me our potential lives in detail. Clearly, it was something he’d been thinking about a lot. I couldn’t tell if it was to reassure me, or simply to convince himself that we’d eventually get there.

I wasn’t so sure where we would end up a month ago, when I’d returned from a disastrous spring break vacation to discover yet more unimaginable facts about myself. Ever since I’d learned that my mother was a mermaid, my life kept getting stranger and stranger. I began to have random visions of the future, and found that I had inherited the power to inspire excellence in others. I was, in fact, kind of a reluctant muse.

“There won’t be any puppies in my future if Cruz kills me for not doing my nails,” I said, looking down at my ragged cuticles. I had been chewing them nervously lately, and Cruz was anxious for me to look my very best when I debuted his latest creation.

“I’ll see you tonight,” said Ethan.

I smacked a kiss into the receiver, and heard one in return as I put down the phone.

So Ethan and I ended up attending the senior prom, and I was a little surprised to find myself enjoying it. I smiled warmly up at him, gently squeezing his hand. I was starting to feel lucky again, grateful that the school year was finally coming to the end, and relieved that nothing out of the ordinary had happened in a while. I was happy that we’d made it to this point.

So far, so good.

When my cousin presented me with the prom dress he’d designed and sewn I was touched. He’d poured his heart and soul into making the most amazing dress imaginable, and like so many of his other creations, it was truly a work of art. Cruz saw the dance as his last chance to show everyone at school how talented he really was; he planned to go out in a blaze of glory. I suppose it was his version of closure, an opportunity to put the final period on a traumatic chapter of his life. Like me, Cruz had always considered high school to be a form of slow torture.

I hadn’t wanted to leave the house for much of anything lately, but confronted with Cruz’s big brown eyes and relentless pleading, I’d softened and agreed to go. I simply couldn’t rain on his parade. After all, he had already made the dress.

He’d also crafted beautiful gowns for our friends Megan and Shayla, and had been bugging them about going to the prom for weeks. Shameless in his use of emotional blackmail, Cruz alternately whined and bullied until he finally ground down their resistance. They ultimately rolled their eyes at each other and decided to go as his double dates. After all, they had to admit, how could they complain about getting custom dresses made for them by a soon to be famous fashion designer?

We all stood, listening to a local band butcher some popular music, watching a bunch of overdressed teenagers dancing self-consciously to the beat. I stifled a yawn and leaned against Ethan, disoriented by the bright sparkling flashes reflecting from a mirrored ball. Light swirled and twirled all around the darkened ballroom, reminding me of fractured sunbeams filtering down into the depths of the dark sea. The crowd swayed like waving seaweed, and the only thing missing was a battalion of phosphorescent glowing mermaids.

Cruz the designer had outdone himself as usual, dressing and styling “his girls” down to the tiniest detail. I smoothed my skirt and admired his exquisite craftsmanship. In my opinion, I had on the most beautiful dress there; he’d made me an ethereal ballgown that it could have come right out of a fairy tale. It had a perfectly fitted strapless bodice that sparkled with tiny crystals sprinkled onto the palest lavender chiffon. The skirt was full and long, whispering when I moved with the rustling of crisp taffeta, a dozen or so layers of tulle netting contributing to the skirt’s lavish volume. It made me feel like a princess, but I drew the line at the tiara Cruz wanted, opting instead for a loose Gibson Girl style up-do that suited the romantic dress.

I enjoyed watching Cruz bask in all the attention we were attracting. It was exactly the sort of vindication he had imagined, and he reveled in it. He stood there holding court, Megan and Shayla on his arms, answering questions from the popular girls who wanted to know where our trio of unusually gorgeous dresses came from. I had to smile, knowing that one day they’d all be bragging to their friends about how they’d gone to school with him.

If anyone remembered that just a few short months ago Cruz and Megan were pariahs, with Shayla acting as their main tormenter, it didn’t show. Former mean-girl Shayla hung on Cruz’s every word, laughing with exaggerated gestures at his constant stream of witticisms. His kindness to her had changed her life, and she’d become his biggest fan. She proudly told anyone who would listen how talented he was, and that he was going to be a famous designer one day.

Megan had morphed into a sultry looking club singer, sporting a Marilyn Monroe inspired halter dress that suited her voluptuous figure. Cruz had broken all the rules by dressing a redhead in red, and the effect was stunning. She had even straightened her normally curly hair for the occasion, wearing it pinned back sleekly, exposing the pretty face she used to go to great lengths to hide.

She looked far older and more sophisticated than your typical high school senior, and she also looked irritated. Megan never did like suffering fools, and she was itching for the whole night to be over.

Shayla smiled happily and stood up straight, towering over almost everyone like a goddess among mortals. Cruz had outfitted her lean and lanky figure in a classic white column dress accented with hand-braided gold trim. Her makeup was flawless, her long blonde hair worn down and loose, and I could see many of the other girl’s dates sneaking a few furtive glances over at her. She looked every inch the sophisticated supermodel she would soon become.

Cruz caught my eye, standing in the middle of a crowd, surrounded, and yet somehow still alone. He watched the dancing couples with a wistful expression on his face, and it suddenly occurred to me that despite having all his friends around him, he was lonely. I wished that he had someone special in his life– someone that meant as much to him as Ethan meant to me.

“Look how much you changed Shayla and Megan,” Ethan whispered in my ear. I looked reproachfully at him, wishing he wouldn’t bring up my so-called muse powers.

“Cruz is the one who dressed them up,” I said defensively.

“Look how much you changed Cruz,” he countered, smiling wryly at my protestations.

I had started looking for any possible way to avoid taking credit for anything that my friends achieved. I hated the thought that their success was due in any part to me. The idea that I had somehow nudged them along made me uncomfortable, and I was having difficulty grappling with the ramifications.

Only Aunt Evie and Ethan knew about the strange power I had to enhance people’s innate gifts and talents, and that was one secret I desperately wanted kept from everyone else. As a fellow mermaid-human hybrid, my Aunt Evie was possessed of the same ability. Unlike me, she was a practiced manipulator, and she wielded her power with relish.

Evie couldn’t really describe exactly how it worked, but she said I’d know it when I felt it. She was right about that, for seeing my friends flourish brought me feelings of intense satisfaction that went beyond mere altruism. Apparently, the power was strongest when I really truly wanted someone to succeed, and capriciously affected some people more than others. Most disturbing, it wasn’t always positive, for I was capable of bringing out the worst as well as the best in people.

“C’mon,” Ethan slipped his arm around my waist, “Let’s dance.”

He’d surprised me earlier in the evening by knowing all the ballroom steps, and he took me out onto the floor for every slow one, leading us smoothly and expertly.

“Where did you learn to dance?” I asked him, watching as his face clouded over a little.

“I, uhm, well… I had to go to the prom last year.”

I realized that his former girlfriend had made certain that he knew how to dance properly for her senior prom. I smiled to myself; it had taken some doing, but I’d mostly gotten over being jealous of her. He was all mine now.

“Evie made me learn,” I teased him.

Aunt Evie had always stressed the fact that a social education was at least as important as an academic one. She was convinced that the hours I spent in dance and etiquette lessons would pay off someday; visions of me consorting with high society danced in her head. “Think of all the formal occasions in your future!” she’d say breathlessly, “You never know where you’ll end up being invited.”

For most of my life I’d never imagined doing anything other than traveling with my father in remote agricultural areas. Our lifestyle was unlikely to ever require high heels or dancing, and I was comfortable with things as they were. Nevertheless, I always humored Evie, partly because my father was convinced that I needed a feminine influence in my life; but mainly because she was impossible to resist.

Dad was finishing the last few weeks of a crop research project in Afghanistan that I feared wasn’t going as well as he had expected. I couldn’t help but wonder how my life would be if he’d allowed me to accompany him like I’d wanted to in the first place. His decision to send me to stay with Abby and Cruz in Aptos had set a whole chain of events into motion that led to the discovery of my true heritage, answering questions about my mother that had been hidden from me my whole life.

It also led to me being kidnapped by a greedy sociopath, where I was held hostage along with two captured mermaids. Evil and ruthless, Peter had hatched a plot to breed mermaid hybrids and raise them as his own personal muses; using them to manipulate his super-rich clients. He actually thought he could force me into going along with his perverse plans, believing I could be persuaded with threats and bribes. I grimaced in revulsion at the memory.

After I’d escaped him, Peter ended up dead at the hands of his equally vile backers, and I was nervously aware that they were still out there– wealthy and powerful people who knew exactly what I was and where I could be found. For now, it looked as though they were going to leave me alone, and I fervently prayed it would stay that way.

Just the thought of them made me cling onto Ethan tighter. He maneuvered us off the dance floor and into a dark corner, pulling me into his broad chest, “How long before we can get out of here?”

“I’m afraid Cruz has after-plans,” I said.

“We never get to be alone anymore,” he complained, pressing his cheek against mine.

I sighed, “He said he has a surprise for us.”

“Hmm…” he crooned in my ear, “Can’t we just say, thanks– but no thanks?”

I shook my head no, “He went to so much trouble to make me this dress,” I gestured around the room, “And this whole thing is really important to him.”

Ethan smiled in amusement, shaking his head. He still couldn’t get over the fact that going to the prom meant absolutely nothing to me.

I continued on, “I think I owe him my gratitude, and at least one night of my life.”

“I’m grateful for this dress too,” he ran his hands across my bare shoulders and down my back, bending to plant a row of kisses along my collarbone. His warm lips started blazing a trail up my neck that made me shiver.

I turned to meet his face with mine, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks.

He was right, we hadn’t been really alone in ages. Between Ethan working virtually non-stop, and my pregnant Aunt Abby concentrating the full force of her nesting instinct on me, we had barely been able to hold hands under the kitchen table lately. Maybe it was just as well.

I was truly head-over-heels in love with him, and I’d marry him tomorrow if I could, but a maddening little shadow of a doubt remained in the back of my mind. I couldn’t help but wonder if my muse powers had somehow manipulated him into making the ultimate commitment without really considering it.

My rational mind realized that we were probably too young to be making such a big decision, but I also knew for certain that I loved him more than life itself. Ethan was stability personified, driven by anxieties I didn’t fully understand to plan and control the future. My own life was threatening to spin out of control at any moment, and I needed him desperately. He’d given me the strength to remain human; if it weren’t for him I’d be deep underwater, swimming in ignorant bliss for all eternity.

I had to wonder; was he truly ready to put up with my bizarre circumstances for the rest of his life? Did it matter if it was what I wanted? I pushed all the niggling doubts out of my mind and brushed his lips with mine softly, slipping my hands around his back to pull him closer as we kissed.

“EXCUSE ME!”

Our heads both turned towards the angry face of the chaperone, a prim English teacher who was clearly taking the job very seriously. I suppose we weren’t making her life any easier; sometimes we had a hard time keeping our hands to ourselves.

“One more time and you’re out of here,” she snapped, turning on her heel.

“Don’t tempt me,” Ethan muttered under his breath as we stepped apart.

“Let’s go see what Cruz is up to.” I took his hand and led him away, ignoring the snickering of the surrounding prom-goers.

“There you are!” Cruz called out as we approached him, “It’s almost time!”

“Time for what?” I smiled, happy to see him so animated.

“My surprise,” he said with a sly look as he took Shayla and Megan by the arms, “We’re all going out to celebrate.” He wagged his index finger at me, “It’s high time you got out of the house, young lady. It’s like you’re turning into Norma Desmond or something.”

“Who?” asked Shayla.

I smirked at him, but I had to admit I’d become reclusive lately, lying low, hoping that the terrible feelings of helplessness would blow over. The horror of being kidnapped had affected me more than I cared to admit, and I’d let myself slip into a small quiet paranoia that made me loathe to even leave the house. I concentrated on my schoolwork and buried myself in reading and painting to avoid even thinking about what had happened. I looked over my shoulder everywhere I went, and even stopped going surfing.

Having Ethan with me helped, and despite the mountain of landscaping jobs that he’d been taking on, he came by Aunt Abby’s more often, doing his homework by my side, sneaking in kisses whenever she turned her back. Bit by bit I relaxed, the tension within me started to ease, and I realized that the people behind my capture were actually going to leave me alone.

It would be pointless for them to harass me, for I could never really want their success and therefore I was useless to them. They must have given up on the idea of trying to force me to work in their favor. I was starting to breathe freely again, as though a tight corset was being loosened from my ribcage one lacing at a time.

The band started in on another slow dance as Ethan and I followed Cruz and his two dates out the door. The longest stretch limousine I’d ever laid eyes on was pulled up right in front, attracting a crowd of kids on the nearby sidewalk. They were sneaking curious glances at the tinted windows, whispering their speculations as to who it could be for. The driver’s door opened and out stepped a man whose giant body matched the scale of the car.

I should have known.

“Allo Marina,” nodded Boris as he came around to open the door. He towered over everyone, gesturing for us to climb in.

“Surprise!” cried Cruz, “Evie’s taking us all out to dinner!”

“Really?” muttered Ethan, “Tonight?”

I squeezed his hand and shrugged. “For Cruz,” I said.

We peeked into the plush interior to find Evie sitting in the far seat, looking as beautiful as she ever did in a chic wrap dress that Cruz had recently designed and tailored just for her. She was dripping with diamonds and grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“My Darlings!” she greeted us imperially, “We’re running late for our reservations, so come come, hurry in, and I’ll take a look at these magnificent gowns after we arrive…”

We did as told, and piled into the limo. Ethan took a seat on the opposite end from Evie, and I settled in next to him. I could tell he was a little annoyed, and it dawned on me that he had some plans of his own for after the prom. I took his hand, twining my fingers through his reassuringly. We were driven across town, listening to Cruz give Evie a blow by blow account of the dance, with Megan interjecting a few times to keep him honest. Shayla looked at Evie worshipfully.

“Here we are!” Evie exclaimed when the car came to a stop. Boris opened the door, and as I stood to straighten my skirt I looked up to see a familiar neon sign. She’d taken us to the restaurant where I’d stumbled across Ethan sitting down to lunch with his ex-girlfriend. The last time I’d set foot here Ethan and I had broken apart because of it. We were standing in front of Le Mer.

Evie swept out of the limo and greeted me with a hug and kisses on both cheeks, “Your dress is fabulous!” she smiled at my stunned face, “You look simply divine!”

“What are we doing here?” I asked, irritated. I felt like I was being provoked.

“Why, I’ve made reservations for dinner… Megan tells me this is the best place in town,” she turned to greet Megan with a society hug and air kisses. “You look fabulous! I do expect a song from you tonight, my dear.”

“Uhm… I took the night off, but I guess I could see…”

Megan looked stricken, and met my eyes apologetically. Ethan just stood rigidly with his arms crossed and an angry scowl on his handsome face. The limo pulled away, leaving us all standing there awkwardly.

Evie greeted Cruz and Shayla warmly, ushering them inside, while Megan trailed behind, turning to look at us anxiously.

Evie paused at the entrance, “Aren’t you coming?” she asked innocently.

“We’ll just be a minute,” I said, looking over at Ethan. I went to him and took his hands as the giant wooden doors swung shut with a sigh.

“It’s okay,” I said gently.

“She did this on purpose,” he complained bitterly, his voice tight with irritation. “She’s still trying to come between us.”

“She wouldn’t do that,” I said reproachfully, “You heard what she said… and besides, I’m long overdue to come out here and see Megan sing…”

His jaw clenched and I could see that he didn’t believe it. I stepped into him and wrapped my arms around his back. “Please don’t be mad,” I whispered into his ear. He sighed and pulled me close, nudging my face up for a kiss. At least there were no chaperones out here on the street, I thought.

Cruz poked his head out the door, “Oh for God’s sake!” he scolded us, “Can you two come in and hear Megan sing already?”

We followed him into the restaurant, joining Shayla and Evie at a table in the lounge. Megan stood at the piano comfortably, holding the microphone casually, and addressing the room like she’d been singing there for years instead of weeks.

“I’d like to dedicate this to my good friend Marina,” she smiled wryly at me and launched into a song, “Somewhere, beyond the sea…” Knowing Megan’s sense of humor, I had to crack a smile. Ethan sat stony faced.

Megan sang beautifully, and with a whisper in the ear of the young man playing piano she launched into a jazzy version of “The Look Of Love.” I couldn’t help but notice the way the piano player was looking at her.

When Megan finished singing, the handsome gentleman that owned the restaurant came to personally lead us to our table. His eyes widened when he saw Evie.

“Mr. Samadi, this is Marina’s Aunt Evie,” said Megan.

“Charmed,” he said, as she reached out her hand to shake. Her eyes sparkled as he bent to press his lips to the back of her hand, “Please…” he stared at her intensely, “call me Omar.”

Cruz and I rolled our eyes at each other as he offered his arm to Evie with a flourish.

We followed them to our table and once again Ethan took the furthest seat from Evie possible. I doubt she noticed anything, for she had locked eyes with Omar and they seemed oblivious to everyone else around them.

“Come on, let’s go to the bathroom,” said Megan, taking my arm and pulling me up out of my seat.

“I’ll be right back,” I squeezed Ethan’s shoulder. He still didn’t look very happy.

When we got to the restroom Megan turned serious, “I’m sooo sorry! When she asked me about places to eat in town I just wasn’t thinking! I had no idea she’d take us here tonight! I mean, I knew she was coming to see us, but Cruz wanted it to be a surprise,” she paused, biting her lip, “Forgive me?”

“It’s okay,” I said, “I’m over it.”

She hugged me in relief, and pulled back adding, “Ethan doesn’t seem to be.”

I sighed, “He’s mad at Evie… He thinks she chose this place on purpose.”

Megan looked thoughtful, “Well, she probably should have known better.”

I shook my head, “I don’t even want to think about it,” I changed the subject, “So, what’s going on with you and the piano player?”

She looked shocked, “How did you know?”

I laughed, “I’m not blind,” I said with a knowing grin, “What happened to Brian?”

“That didn’t work out,” she replied with a twinge of regret, recovering rapidly, “But I did get inspired to write some really great songs out of the breakup!”

We laughed together, fixing our hair and makeup and joking around about some of the couples at the prom. I started feeling more like my old self.

Returning to the table, I sat down, scooting close to Ethan and taking his hand again. We endured an uncomfortable dinner, listening to Cruz chatter on and on about the dresses at the prom, design school, and his relocation to the city. He was set to move into my empty apartment in San Francisco after the upcoming finals week, and Evie was almost as excited as he was about having him as a neighbor.

“That reminds me,” said Evie, turning towards Shayla, “An agent friend of mine saw your pictures and would like some more test shots and an interview… How about we schedule a meeting for directly after we get Cruz settled in?”

“OK,” said Shayla, looking a little nervous, “An interview?”

“He’s booking runway girls for the Paris shows and he’ll need to see your walk,” said Evie.

Shayla swallowed hard, “My walk?”

“Yes silly,” Cruz interjected, “Like I showed you!” Cruz had been trying to teach Shayla the classic runway strut but she was still having trouble with the heels. If she could only wear flip-flops on the catwalk she’d be fine.

Shayla looked across the table at me, fear in her eyes.

“Will you go with me?” she pleaded.

“Sure,” I nodded.

Ethan sat quietly, and when we finally got up to leave he couldn’t get out the door fast enough. Evie kept us waiting a few minutes while she spoke with Omar, giggling coquettishly and touching her hair. He pressed his card into her hand and kissed it again, clearly enraptured with her. When she met our group out by the limousine I was surprised to see Evie looking a little flushed.

As we drove away she regained her composure, finalizing plans with Cruz and pumping Megan for details about Mr. Samadi. We pulled up to the high school parking lot and stopped.

Evie turned to address Ethan, “It was lovely seeing you again, and if you’ll indulge me, I’d like to take Marina home myself. We have some important business to discuss.”

She cast me a meaningful look. I’d known this day was coming, and it was what I’d been dreading– it was the thing that kept waking me up at night. It was time for my first meeting with the hybrid council.

“I’m sure it can wait,” Ethan said, his dark blue eyes blazing at her.

“No, I’m afraid it’s very urgent,” Evie returned his gaze, a challenge in her icy blue ones.

I looked at the two of them locked in combat and wanted to scream. I knew that they both had my best interests at heart, but I couldn’t help and wonder if each of them simply wanted to control me for their own reasons. Cruz and Megan exchanged a nervous glance and said their goodbyes, taking Shayla and beating a hasty retreat.

Evie turned to me, “I’m leaving town for a week tomorrow morning… I’m afraid we can’t do this over the phone.”

I nodded, taking Ethan’s hand and climbing out of the limo, “Come on, let’s talk.” I walked him over to his truck and took him in my arms, “I think I should hear what she has to say. I need to find out what’s going on.”

He looked glumly across the lot at Boris standing by the giant limo, watching us.

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I know.”

“I’ll come see you first thing tomorrow at the farmer’s market… okay?”

He nodded and looked down at me. I stretched up to kiss him.

“It’ll all be over soon,” I said, even though I didn’t really believe it.





I walked slowly back towards Evie, feeling the laces of my mental corset cinching back in, constricting more tightly with each exhale, once again, making it almost impossible to breathe.