OVERFALLS (The Merworld Water Wars, Book 2) (35 page)

For a minute, Trey just stared at the ‘F’ charm. Soon, though, a huge smile stretched across his face and he started laughing. “I can honestly say I’ve called you the same thing many times. Nicely done, man.” Whoa. Trey actually shook Troy’s hand.

“Two semi-enemies just bridged the hate on Thanksgiving. Can’t think of anything that can make this day any better,” I said.

“Now, Trey, we don’t mean for you to wear them all at once. That’d be gauche. We thought you could switch off which charm you wear, depending on your mood,” said Polly.

“They’re amazing. I can’t thank you all enough. Think this might have been the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

“It’s about to get better, Trey. You got another present!” said Gully, meandering into the dining room. “I apologize for taking it out of the wrappings. It was just so glow-y, even all wrapped up. I couldn’t help myself.” In Gully’s hands was an old bronze box with wicker sides. Through the wicker, I saw grayish smoke swirling around inside.”

Jex, Doctor Tenly, Troy, and I simultaneously screamed, “DON’T OPEN THAT!”

Too late.

Seven spirits shot out of the box and floated about the room before dive-bombing at our faces. A pompous male ghost flew into Trey’s eyes, while Ophelia’s eyes unwittingly welcomed a yawning male spirit; a delicate woman crying, “More, more, I want more!” crawled into Gully’s wide eyes, and Polly failed to avoid a spirit dripping in jewels, food, and shopping bags.

“Doctor Tenly, what’s going on?” I said, hiding behind my chair, watching the three remaining spirits circle Maile, Meikle, and me like sharks.

“Seven deadly spirits,” said Doctor Tenly. “They represent the seven deadly sins.” Doctor Tenly sprinted from the dining room.

“The deadly seven look for a human who embodies their particular sin, but only if the sin is still dormant in the individual. They enter through the eyes because those are the windows to the soul. Their sole goal is to awaken that sin and create a new generation of the deadly seven,” said Jex.

Just as I was about to ask a question, an angry female ghost, slashing at the air, flew through my eyes; the pressure was excruciating. Suddenly, I felt something crawl up my throat; gagging, I watched as the spirit exited through my mouth, rolled across the table, and jumped into Meikle’s eyes. Before I could blink, another phantom, this one obviously a hooker, leaped into my eyes, only to be spat out with another gag. The hooker ghost immediately whooshed into Polly.

“What the hell?!” I yelled.

“Looks like you’re immune, Savior,” said Jex. “Just like Maile.”

“Who’d you get?” I asked her.

“Envy. Probably because I’m envious of how you all can see in the daylight,” said Maile. “Envy bounced off my eyes and landed in Polly.”

“She has three, now,” said Troy. “Lust, Gluttony, and Envy.”

“Wait. What tried to get me?” I asked.

“Wrath and Lust, Cherry Blossom,” said Jex, smiling. “Best of the bunch, really.”

Polly slinked up behind us and ran her hands through Jex’s hair. “Cherry Blossom? I’m the one with pink hair, angel boy. Here, look at my cherry blossom.” She flipped her head over and moved her hair down his chest.

“Lovely hair, Polly. Very soft,” said Jex uncomfortably.

Polly bit her lip. “I knew you wanted me.” She sat on his lap and started making out something fierce with him.

When his manhood was clearly taking over his senses, I snapped. “Jex, she’s not herself! This is the sin saying ‘hello, how are you, wanna get sexy?’”

Coming up for air, he said, “Yeah, well, I should at least say ‘hi’ back, right? I mean, that’s just being a gentleman. Only…ooh…hospitable thing to do on Thanksgiving.”

“Stop talking to her,” said Polly. “So what if she’s the Savior. I could be the Savior. Lord knows my breasts would look better in the super-suit.”

“And that would be Envy making its debut,” said Troy.

Polly and Jex were making out so strong that they fell right out of the chair. “Oh, I love kissing you…you smell so good…like licorice and salsa. Buy me a bakery and a grocery store and a vineyard and…”

“Hello, Gluttony!” I said.

While Polly mauled Jex’s face, Trey lectured Treeva on his brilliance during their training sessions; Gully dutifully made out a list for Santa Claus; and Ophelia sat in a corner of the room, half-asleep, belching, while her drink slopped on the wood floor.

“Trey has Pride, Gully has Greed, and Ophelia clearly has Sloth,” said Doctor Tenly, returning to the dining room with two bottles of orange bubbles.

“NO! You won’t fix me! I AM HOW I WANT TO BE! Break me, and I’ll break you!” Meikle levitated above the table and tossed breaking bombs around the room; one snapped the table in half and another shattered the television.

“Wrath!” shouted Doctor Tenly, pointing at Meikle. “From the soul you shall soar, for you do not belong here anymore; move where your sins sigh and to them you shall tie.” He smashed the bottles on the ground just before Meikle could destroy them; an orange cloud whirled around the room, collecting the deadly spirits from my friends and placing them back in the box. “Think I’ll make sure this never falls into the wrong hands again.”

Once the deadly seven were locked up tight, everyone returned to normal (literally): Trey stopped talking about himself; Meikle lowered to the floor and apologized for busting up the table and television; Ophelia snatched a napkin off the table and started to wipe up the floor; and Gully giggled at herself for making her Christmas list so early.

Polly was flat on her back with Jex on top of her when she snapped out of Envy, Gluttony, and Lust. “Oh. My. God. This never happened. You never smelled good. I never kissed you. You never kissed me. I never liked it.” She scrambled to stand up. “If you—I—” She darted from the room and dashed up the stairs.

“I’ll check on her,” said Meikle.

“Seven Normals, seven sins,” I said. “That’s not too obvious or anything. Did they think we’d stay sinful or something?”

“Perhaps,” said Doctor Tenly. “But I think it’s more likely they wanted to expose your weaknesses and mentally derail you all.”

“I had two try to embody me,” I said. “Lust and Wrath.”

“And you were immune, weren’t you? That wasn’t a Savior thing, Bluey. Wrath just means you’re protective of your loved ones and have a desire to beat the baddies. As for the other, well, you know, you feel the tingle from time to time,” said Jex. “Who doesn’t? Look, all humans have bits of the deadly seven in them to varying degrees. What you decide to act on is up to you.”

“Jex is right, Marina,” said Doctor Tenly. “Choice is a powerful magic unto itself.”

“Question: Can the deadly seven’s presence leave some lingering vibes?” asked Polly, peering into the dining room.

“Hello, lovely,” said Jex.

With a little whimper, Polly raced back up the stairs, shouting, “I hate the deadly seven!”

Oddly enough, I’m glad the deadly seven had intercourse with our eyeballs. I’ve never denied being an angry, overly protective, horny teenager. Yet, I’ve doubted my abilities as the Savior time and time again. I reckon believing in yourself was one of the toughest parts to living, especially when the bullies jump out and knock you down. I’m not saying the dreaded doubt will go away overnight, but, at the very least, the spirits showed me I have everything I need to succeed already inside my soul. If only I can learn to embrace everything that makes me, me.

Oh, and I can unequivocally say that Polly was, indeed, right: the deadly seven left some intoxicating vibrations behind, as evidenced by me gnawing on another turkey leg while dragging my boyfriend to the beach, so I could give thanks to his lips this Thanksgiving night.

Chapter Sixteen

Prince in a Pear Tree

December: Uninterrupted jolliness

Monthly Life Caption: Under the Sea & Through the Snow

Mood: Jolly like a talkin' snowman

Eating: Anything sugary with icing and sprinkles

Music: Oh, I’m so caroling to the classics

December 23
^rd
. December has always carried the delicate scent of a miracle on its breezes and a sparkle of magic in every snowflake. Ah, I do love this time of year with all of its inexplicable wonder: the mysterious way in which freshly baked cookies smell better at Christmas than any other time of the year; how twinkle lights have the unique power to transform houses and trees into a wonderland; the curiously comforting smells of wrapping paper and tape; and the stupidly awesome giddiness over your boyfriend’s plan to sneak you out of the ball, just so he can give you an early Christmas present.

Since Thanksgiving, life has been fairly quiet. The Dealer was still creeping around Saxet Shores, unidentified. I wish we had more information, but The Dealer was like a clever ghost that has full control over the house it haunts. At least we know he or she has a witch helping out…a witch Doctor Tenly still refuses to name, despite my many attempts during training. Speaking of training, it has been rough, particularly team practice for the earth element. Jex, Rips, and Maile have been burying us alive…in the dirt and mud…with the bugs…every day…for a month. Digging your way out of a grave was hardly my idea of holly-jolly fun.

To offset the morbidity of having daily faux funerals, Meikle and I meet every afternoon after my Savior sessions to work on Christmas presents. With money being severely tight this year, I decided to go the handmade-with-a touch-of-magic route. Airianna’s first ever diary will speak comfortingly to her during difficult times; Mom’s favorite old cupcake pan will now bake twice as fast; and Doctor Tenly will finally get all the pastries I promised him, but always forgot to bring him. And then we have Troy. My boyfriend-Christmas-present-stress has been unbearable for weeks. I replayed every memory with him, every heart-melting word he spoke…until I knew. With Meikle’s help, I may just answer that age-old fairy tale question: what do you give the prince who has everything?

Christmas Ball time
: Placing the final snowflake clip in my hair, I decided I looked pretty darn good, thanks to Maile. I slipped on the delicate white bolero jacket and shook my head in awe. Maile, once again, outdid herself. The long, ice blue gown made my usually pasty skin look like shimmering snow, and my wild red locks resembled a great artist’s oil painting. Okay, that might sound ridiculous, but I’m not exaggerating. Fact: take me out of Maile’s enchanted dress, and I’ll look like a troll.

When I walked into the living room, I saw my mom, passed out on the couch, her face covered in a gray mud mask. For the past two weeks, Mom has been falling asleep whenever and wherever the sandman strikes. One week ago, I found her asleep on the floor of the kitchen covered in powdered sugar; two days ago, she fell asleep on the toilet; and yesterday, she nose-dived into her plate of spaghetti.

“Mom?”

“Huh, what? Oh, well, hello there, Christmas angel,” she said, wiping the drool from her mouth. “Why’d you get dressed so early?”

“Mom, don’t freak, but Troy and Mr. Gibbs will be here any minute,” I said. “You fell asleep again…this time, in your mud mask.”

“Ooh, no I didn’t,” she said, struggling to get up off the couch. “My face is going to be brighter than Rudolph’s nose!” She ran to the bathroom, washed her face, and screamed. “Oh God! It looks like I have frost bite all over my damn face!”

Rounding the corner of the bathroom, I said, “No, it doesn’t really. You’re just a little blush-y or sunburn-y.”

“I have to slap on some makeup,” said Mom.

“Just, uh, skip the blush.”

As soon as Mom disappeared into her room, Mr. Gibbs and Troy arrived, handsome as always.

“Mom will be a minute,” I said. “She’s just cover—putting her face on.”

“You stun my senses,” said Troy, kissing the top of my head.

Sigh. So glad he can’t see the honking zit I’m hiding under my bangs.

“You really do look lovely, Marina,” said Mr. Gibbs. “I brought these poinsettias for Camille. I know how much she loves them.”

“Thank you both, and Mom will love these,” I said, taking the poinsettias and placing them on either side of the tree.

After another ten minutes, Mr. Gibbs said, “Marina, I don’t mean to hurry your mom, but transport for the ball will be here any second.”

“And it’s rumored they have a pumpkin coach kind of deadline,” Troy added.

“I’ll go see what’s keeping her,” I said. Nearing her bedroom, I heard snoring. “Dear God.” Mom was in her green gown, slumped over her makeup, with puffs of loose powder filling the air around her face with every exhale. “Mom!”

“Huh? Mother of God, I did it again.” Looking in the mirror, she wiped off the excess powder, pulled her hair back into a loose bun, and said, “Passable?”

“More than passable, if you can keep from drooling on Mr. Gibbs.”

“He has seen worse, believe me,” she groaned. “Let’s go jingle some balls.”

“There they are,” said Mr. Gibbs. “The two most beautiful girls in the world.”

“My feet are bloated and my face glows. The ‘beautiful’ thing ain’t gonna cut it, tonight, darlin’,” Mom growled.

Troy grinned at me. “Here are our rides.”

“Ah, good! The waves are here,” said Mr. Gibbs.

“We’re surfing…in gowns?” I quipped.

“Come on,” chuckled Troy, taking my hand.

Mr. Gibbs, Mom, Troy, and I walked around to the beach. Two gel-coated waves illuminated by floating crystal jellyfish and firefly squid waited behind our house.

“After you,” said Troy, helping me sit inside the wave.

“Is this what it’s like when surfers take a barrel ride?” I asked.

“Pretty close, yeah. Only you don’t have to worry about getting rolled…by the wave, anyway.”

My cheeks burned. “It’s Christmas. This isn’t the time for inappropriately stimulating innuendo.”

“I was just getting one last charge in before I give you your Christmas present,” he teased.

“Can’t I have a hint? I’ll take an insignificant one.”

Tapping my nose, he said, “Not even an insignificant one.”