"Don't laugh. It sucked. The worst part was leaving my secret crush."
My brows arched. "Seriously? That was the worst part?"
"Don't hate on young love. A broken heart is a clinical malady."
His mock woe expression catapulted me back to fifth grade. Don't be mad, Sailor. I removed a piece of seaweed from your hair. See? The little devil had dangled a length of fake kelp he had bought at the dollar store, complete with a realistic minnow hanging off the end. Irritation scrabbled against my memory vault. Nate had been in love with someone? I didn't remember him bothering any other girls. "She must have been quite special."
"She was ... probably still is." His gaze roved my face. "But I think she hated me."
I smirked. "Maybe you mistook her for someone else."
"Very funny." Nate's stare rummaged my core. I blinked, and he dropped his gaze. "No, I knew exactly who she was." He picked at his thumbnail. "And what she was."
I shifted on the boulder. "What do you mean?"
He shook his head. "Totally out of my league."
"Ah."
"But I couldn't stop myself."
"What did you do? Trip her in the halls?"
"No!" Nate bumped his shoulder against mine. The breach zinged a charge along my arm that arrowed to my core. He fingered the zipper of his body-hugging hoodie jacket. "Give a guy some credit. I was much smoother than that."
Remembering the hair pulling, I had my doubts.
"I invited her to my house for my first boy-girl birthday party."
I flashed on his family's rambling two-story house. Dad had cajoled me into accepting Nate's invitation. Sailor, you have to go! Even if you hate the guy, you'll love his house. It's a hidden gem. I bet you'll fill an entire sketchbook when you return.
I had gone, determined to check out the old Victorian and then hide in a bathroom and text my parents to pick me up. Instead, I had been swept away by the house's lived-in charm and Mr. Sheehan's restoration: crown molding, wainscoting, and--in a side parlor that had been transformed into a small library--an intricate custom bookcase. Nate had discovered me tracing my fingertips over the sleek mahogany.
"Want to see something cool?"
My heart jumped at his sudden appearance. How had he ditched his other guests? Without waiting for my answer, Nate pressed on a side panel adorned with hand-carved mermaids. The panel popped open, revealing a pale sea-foam room, barely big enough to contain two gray beanbag chairs and a drum table. A mini-chandelier strung with sea glass hung from the ceiling. Splashes of colored light caught my eye as they danced across the superhero comic books strewn across the floor.
"Where is the light coming from?" I asked.
Nate clasped my wrist. "I'll show you." He drew me into the hobbit-sized room and pointed to a spot high on the exterior wall.
"Wow." Sunlight streamed through a circular stained glass window that depicted a golden-haired mermaid perched on a rock outcropping. In the turquoise sea surrounding her, three attentive dolphins stood upright in the water.
"Welcome to the inner sanctum of Mermaid Manor." Nate scooped a pencil from the table. "Come here." He situated me against the doorjamb. He smelled of barbecued hamburgers and boy. "Hold still."
"Why? What are you going to do?"
"You'll see."
I felt the pencil slide along the part in my hair then heard it scratch against the wood frame. When he finished, I eyed his handiwork.
Nate wrote my name and the year on the wall beside the mark. "There. Now you're an official member."
"Of what?"
"The mermaid club."
"Hand me the pencil." I made a flicking motion.