The Girl Who Pulls the Tides - ONC 2021

chapter 3

Saturday is spent on the couch in front of the TV, watching the sun out the window as it rises, reaches its peak, and starts sinking down towards the wide, reckless sea. At the top of every hour, a warning pops up at the edge of the TV screen, interrupting whatever show Jack's watching. In scrolling text, it reads: Saturday, May 2—There will be a blue moon tonight. The official town curfew is at 5 PM. You are advised to stay off the water and stay indoors.

As I read the warning, I feel a shudder of excitement snake down my spine.

Jack doesn't seem to share my excitement. His mouth is set in a hard line, his thick eyebrows furrowed. People always say that we look alike—we have the same tall, broad figure, all square jaws and hazel eyes, sandy hair and pale freckles—but personally, I don't see it. He's always so serious. Thoughtful. Soft-spoken.

We couldn't be more different.

As soon as the first early-evening star flickers into visibility, I'm up off the couch, pulling on my poncho and my rain boots.

"Fionn," Jack groans.

"Jaaaaack," I groan back.

"Where are you going?"

"Where I always go during a blue moon. You coming?"

He gives me a look. "It's not safe."

"Who cares?"

"We're supposed to stay indoors."

I roll my eyes. "We always have this argument. I always win. Can we skip to the part where I win?"

"I don't get why you're always so excited for these things," Jack says, without any hint of accusation in his voice, just curiosity. "After everything they've done..." 

This is one of the things I love most about my brother—he actually tries to understand me. He listens. Not many people make the effort.

I shrug in response, my hand resting on the doorknob. "I don't know if I believe everything that people say about the Nereids; about what they did to our parents."

Jack doesn't say anything—he just nods.

I open the door and step out of the apartment. "Plus," I say, turning back to face him, "I think the blue moon is pretty."

I close the door behind me and head to the staircase, taking the steps two-at-a-time as I rush up the stairs. The roof's entrance is locked, but I stole a copy of the key from Fawkes, the landlord, years ago. The door clicks as I unlock it. I step outside onto the concrete roof just as the wide orange sun is setting over the sea. I sit down at the edge of the roof, only a few blocks away from the harbor.

I know that it's not good to look directly at the sun, but I do; I watch as it falls further and further into the horizon until only a small sliver of light is left, setting the sea on fire.

And then it's gone.

I feel the whole island take in a collective breath and hold it.

Almost immediately, the wind picks up, whipping at my face, flying through the evening sky in fast-moving flurries. The waves grow bigger and darker and rougher. Dusky clouds of cobalt and indigo rush into the sky as if racing with one another; darkness layered upon darkness, bounding into view now that the sun has disappeared. The cumulus clouds completely envelop the sky, blocking out any sight of the stars or moon behind them. This isn't unusual; part of the Nereids' celebration is the storm. We rarely ever get to see the blue moon rise.

Only a few seconds later, I feel the first raindrops hit my forehead. I pull my poncho hood over my head and curl up beneath it, and I watch as the storm unfolds.