Ari Callahan has no idea how to talk to boys -- or how to talk to anyone for that matter. Enter Zac, the cute new guy in town who won't stop texting her. But is his interest real, or does he have a hidden agenda?
...
Ari's legs gave way, useless beneath her. Did her legs even exist anymore? They felt like they'd washed away. She would have fallen if not for Zac's forearm, locked around her waist, dragging her body toward him. He pressed her ribcage flush against his own, oblivious to her soaked nightgown or the damp spot that slowly spread across his shirt.
There was an expression on his face she didn't recognize. He was staring, but not into her eyes. Ari had her palm across her mouth, and his gaze fixed there with such smoldering intensity that she thought the back of her hand might burst into flames.
What was he doing here?
Had he heard her?
Singing?
How long had he been lurking behind the bathroom door?
Ari couldn't seem to hold onto the thoughts for long enough to contemplate the answers. Her stomach fluttered violently, like a caught fish at the end of a hook, struggling to escape capture. She didn't know if it was anxiety at the thought of being overheard—or something else. Some distant knowledge of what that look in his eyes really meant.
Ari's own mind swam. The moment elongated, seemingly endless as she waited for what would happen next. A different thought had taken hold now, and she couldn't seem to shut it out: a page from her beloved Little Mermaid storybook... and not the happy ending either, when the mermaid and her handsome prince kiss at last.
No, weirdly, it was a different scene that came to her: the one where the Little Mermaid meets the creepy old sea witch and hears the terms of the magic spell. She had to get her beloved prince to kiss her. A real kiss. A true love kiss...
And if she failed, her whole life was forfeit.
Why that part? It was probably the scariest part of the whole story—the central theme of all Ari's bad dreams when she was a little girl. It had to mean something. Why now, at this moment, when childish nightmares should've been the last thing on her mind?
But Ari didn't have time to think about it.
Without uttering a word, Zac had peeled her hand away from her mouth. His gaze only intensified at what he saw beneath. Ari's mind went blank as a crackle of electricity pierced the flesh of her lips. She realized she wasn't breathing. Maybe that was why he stared like that. Because her lips were turning blue from lack of oxygen.
The fringes of her vision slowly darkened. Ari thought that she might faint. She wrapped her arms around his neck to keep from falling.
Zac didn't need any further invitation. A low hiss emanated from the back of his throat as he closed the distance between them. And then Ari felt his mouth against her own, warm and demanding.
Somewhere, vaguely, a voice whispered in the back of Ari's mind. She should put a stop to this. Push him away. Slap him across the face. She should be angry at him for eavesdropping. Furious! Or mortified? Or both.
He'd come into her house uninvited, and he'd heard her singing at the top of her lungs. No wonder she felt paralyzed. It was her single greatest fear, fully realized. She should be frozen stiff with panic, and rightly so. But Ari knew it wasn't panic that had taken hold of every muscle fiber and robbed her of the will to move. She wasn't frozen. More like she was melting, turning into a liquid form of herself that threatened to ooze through his arms and run away across the bathroom floor tiles, down the drain.
Zac must have sensed her weakness. With his lips still pressed against hers, he scooped his good arm beneath her knees and picked her up. The strength of his arms only added to the sensation of dissolving, as he carried her across the threshold into the bedroom beyond. Ari's nightgown flapped against her lifeless legs and left a trail of water in her wake, but she didn't notice it. Zac drifted toward the bed. He laid her gently atop the sea-blue coverlet.
His mouth hadn't left hers since their lips first made contact. Her fingers rested against his jawline, and she felt the muscles work beneath the skin, as if he were drinking her in. Gulping her down by the bucketful.
They still hadn't come up for air. But, strangely, Ari didn't feel light-headed any longer. She didn't need to breathe. She was breathing him instead. She could feel the heat from his lungs permeating her entire being, to the ends of her fingers and tips of her toes.
Filling her.
Consuming her.
Transforming her.
With a sudden burst of clarity, Ari understood why that particular scene from the storybook kept coming to her mind. It was just like she'd told her sister that morning over text:
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This was it, Ari realized. This was the moment she'd been waiting for. The moment when her own spell would be broken at long last. The moment when her real life would begin.
Finally, she thought, and a surge of joy washed through her. She didn't feel the slightest doubt. She knew it must be true. She felt her chest lift up beneath him, and she opened her mouth wider to let the magic fill her up completely.
She didn't even need to sleep with him. This kiss was more than enough.
She could feel his tongue inside her mouth, dancing with her own. No, not dancing with it. Loosening it. Freeing it from the bonds that held it tethered.
Ari knew what would happen once the kiss broke. She could feel the liquid sensation lessen, as if her body were recrystallizing into a new version of herself.
She sighed into his mouth. He must have felt the outrush of her breath. At last, Zac pulled his head away. Ari's eyelids fluttered open, and Zac rested his forehead against hers, searching her face.
"Ari?" he said softly. His voice was low and breathy. His fingers brushed away a tangle of crimson hair that had fallen across her eyes. "Ari? Are you—are you OK?"
She didn't answer him just yet. No rush, she thought. For now, she broke into a shy smile, as she lifted one hand and touched his cheek. She traced her thumb across his lower lip. Not so bloodless anymore. Red and swollen.
"Ari?" He sounded more intense now, nearly frantic. He was hovering above her on hands and knees, but he sat up straight, raking his hand through his hair. He darted a hasty glance over his shoulder. "Answer me. Text me. Where's your phone?"
She shook her head and grabbed him lightly on the upper arm, turning him back toward her. She pressed one finger against his lips to quiet him.
"What?" he whispered against her finger. "Your phone. Where is it? Did they take it?"
Did they take— Who was he talking about?Her parents?
Ari shook her head more forcefully.
"Did you leave it in the bathroom?"
Yes, she thought, but it didn't matter. It wouldn't do her any good in its current waterlogged state. Zac moved to go get it, but Ari took his hand to stop him, and he turned his eyes back toward her.
Then the air came up out of her lungs—the last vestige of the heat she had inhaled from him. It filled her throat and swirled across her tongue, before it left her body at long last.
And with it came the words.
"No."
Thin and hoarse, but audible. Fully audible, just as she believed it would be.
"No, Zac," Ari said a little stronger, and her smile broadened with triumph as her last doubts fell away. "I don't need my phone."
