Page 65 of Make Out With A Merman

Ryder stands next to me with his arms crossed and the kind of look on his face that saysI want to intervene but I’m afraid of that small child’s wrath.

“What... is happening?” he mutters as a foam noodle is launched thirty feet into the air by some kind of enchanted geyser.

“Hazel’s running the show,” I say, trying not to sound smug.

“I can see that.”

A group of six-year-olds rides an inflatable banana across the shallow end like it’s a battle chariot. A flying water balloon zooms past Ryder’s head and explodes on a counselor’s clipboard.

“It’s fine,” I assure him quickly. “No one’s gotten hurt.”

“Yet,” he mutters.

I glance over to see Hazel levitate herself three feet off the lifeguard chair while shouting, “ALLIANCE BREAKERS WILL BE BANNED TO THE SHALLOW ZONE!”

Ryder looks at me sideways. “Whyexactly did you agree to this?”

I shrug, the picture of innocence. “She earned it.”

“Callie.”

“She wanted to prove herself.”

He squints. “You’re hiding something.”

“Nope.”

He stares a beat longer.

I give him my most radiant, lying-through-my-teeth smile.

He doesn’t press.

And I’m grateful.

Because tonight?

Tonight I meet Hazel at the fire circle with a piece of Ryder’s world in my pocket and a prayer in my chest.

That night,just before I head to the fire circle, I sit alone by the edge of the dock.

The lake’s still.

But I know better.

I know what it’swaitingfor.

The float lights flicker soft around the boundary line, casting reflections like stars that sank too low.

I pull the item from my pocket, Ryder’s compass.

The one clipped to his belt that he dropped on the cabin floor two nights ago without realizing. I almost gave it back.

But something told me not to.

The metal’s worn smooth from years of use. Still ticks. Still points true. Like him.

Stubborn. Solid. Relentlessly good even when he doesn’t believe it.

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