I backed away from my locker as if the distance would make the word disappear. By the look on Pete's face, if he was a cartoon character steam would be coming out of his ears. If I was a cartoon character, I’d be blending into the background from embarrassment.

What made my fist curl was the handwriting. The slightly curved letters that made the writing look almost like a script. It belonged to Hannah.

Tramp?  What had a done that made her think I was one? Or did that even matter? If there was one thing I learned from my high school experience it was bullies would bully no matter what. They'd always find something to tear you down about, even if it was made up.

“What the hell? I thought this school gave up harassing you girls!” Pete exclaimed.

The school did but not Hannah.

The familiar tapping of heels caused us to turn around to see Hannah with a group of students. She was sneering at us, her purse in one hand and the other on a friend's shoulder. She broke out into laughter after looking over us.

“Looks like we caught the tramp in action!” Without a second glance at me she stalked off with her posse.

Her words made me want to wilt. Not because they hurt but because it was exactly what I deserved. I had been on Hannah’s side of the teasing for three years and now I was getting a taste of what I use to condone.

I was willing to take the teasing but Pete wasn't on the same page.

“It's time for someone to put an end to Hannah. This is getting out of hand.”

“Really, it isn't a big deal. She had her fun and it's over. No need to dwell on it,” I said the words even though in the back of my mind the word would play over and over until I started to question if it was true.

“No. It is a big deal and if we don't deal with it now it's only going to escalate.” He looked around, his eyes landing on a teacher who was traveling down the hallway towards us. She had her nose stuck in a large book and it took Pete a few tries to get her attention.

I inwardly cringed, wishing he'd drop it.

“Mrs.Rowan, Arielle’s locker has been vandalized.”

The teachers face furrowed at the locker but quickly recovered. “It's okay. We can call the janitor to clean it up. It's his job.”

Both Pete and I were shocked at her passiveness as she continued walking. Figured. No one wanted to face problems in this town. Not even the ones who job it was to.

“I’ll take care of it. Meet you at the pool?”

“Okay.” Pete left with a defeated sigh.

Running a hand through my hair, I stared at the locker. Now to figure out how to get the sharpie off.

Tramp.

Was she trying to say something about Pete and I? Zac and me? This was so like Hannah; to make something out of nothing. Plus, it was a great way to disable my task to find true love and win the deal.

“I could help you with that.” Lavender hair girl, also known as Shelby, pranced over with a container filled with wipes. “I've been there before. Let me help a fellow sister out.”

I smiled and accepted the wipes. “Thank you. What do you mean ‘fellow sister’?”

“I heard about your falling out with the girls and now you're one of us; a target.” She took one of the wipes and started scrubbing at the word. “I’ll give you some tips and tricks to survive Hannah's reign. Tip one: Don't take anything Hannah says or does to heart.”

"Good one." I helped her scrub, using her technique that was working extremely well. “I'm sorry for anything I've might have done to you while I was friends with Hannah. You're pretty cool.”

“I don't remember you doing anything to me actually. So, you're pretty cool in my book as well.”

We giggled and continued to talk. I learned Shelby and I had similar interest and her hair was naturally a quirky color. It wasn't lavender but a rare shade of blonde. She told me about one of Hannah's failed attempts to mess with her friends and I told her about my grandmother's fascination with the sea. It became clear to me that I had been missing out on a lot of cool people while being exclusive friends with Hannah and the girls.

“I got to head to the pool room but maybe we can hang out at lunch on Monday?”

“I'm in.”

With a smile on my face and a clean locker, I made my way towards the pool room. I had changed into my gym clothes just in case Pete was one of those swimmers who couldn't move an inch without causing a tsunami. For his sake, I hoped he was good.

The double doors opened with a loud echo throughout the vast space. I spotted Pete in the water floating on his back, deep in thought. His eyes were focused on the high ceiling, only two rows of lights on. I breathed in the humid air and chlorine, trying hard not to stare at him in his shirtless state and blush at the memory of the locker room incident.

Having heard the door open, Pete flipped over and pointed to the timer next to his towel.

I was impressed. Pete swam with diligence, grace, and skill. His strokes were powerful and calculated, propelling him across the water. He moved as humans did in the air and looked like he was right where he belonged.

“Wow! Those were some great laps! The swim team would be stupid to not let you on the team!”

“You think so?”

“Definitely.”

“Thanks. Could you pass me my towel?” I nodded and grabbed the fabric as he came to the edge of the pool. He reached for the towel but grasped my forearm instead. All I could manage was a confused glance and squeal before I was yanked into the water.

I came back up soaked and annoyed. “Pete!” I contemplated whether I wanted to retaliate with a splash, not wanting to cause a full-on war. Challenging people wasn't really my strong suit . . . but this was Pete. He wasn't like Hannah. He was my friend. Friends are supposed to treat you nice. Maybe this time, just this once, I could be the one to finish a fight.

“You- you goof!” I moved the water underneath my arms, creating a huge wave.

“You are going to pay for that!” he shouted, continuing to splash.

“You started it!”

“But I'm gonna end it!”

“We’ll see about that!”

We continued attacking each other with the water, creating waves, occasionally dunking each other under the water and wrestling for the upper hand. I was laughing so hard, I could barely breathe. Pete was so concentrated on out-splashing me his cheeks were red and his expression mirrored the one of a soldier.

Talk about competitive.  

I got so lost in our war I also lost my footing, causing me to fall onto Pete. He caught me and helped me back up, still laughing though mine had come to a halt. My eyes had caught a glimpse of a scar running from the left side of his skull all the way down to right below his ear. It was almost covered up by his hair but it appeared he had recently got a haircut.

“How did that happen?”

A shadow crossed his eyes as his fingertips brushed the spot knowing exactly what I was talking about. He sighed. “It’s just a little souvenir from my brain tumor surgery.”

“Wait . . . what?” I came closer and observed the pale inflated skin for myself, running a finger along it. My mouth hung open. “When?”

“Three summers ago. Didn’t tell anybody and kind of just rolled with the punches. That’s all you can really do when something like that happens,” he said with a shrug. His bodies demeanor said it was nothing but the look on his face was grave. Like he had seen things, gone through things, he would never forget.

“I’m sorry. That must have been hard to keep to yourself .  . . to struggle in silence.” I knew all too well how bottling up your emotions made things worse. Gosh . . .  it almost resulted in killing myself.

He swam to the edge of the pool, wrapped his arms around the edge and rested his head casually. I could tell he was trying to act nonchalant. “It was better like that. No one needed to be alarmed. The doctors caught it early and I was going to be fine after treatment and surgery.”

I joined him at the edge. “You’re okay now, right?”

“Yeah, all better . . . aside from my tiny speech impediment.”

“Oh.” I was thrown off. “I’ve always thought you were great with words.”

He smirked. “I have trouble pronouncing words with certain sounds in them. Hence, why I butcher your name every time I say it.”

I tried to think of all the times he uttered my name and couldn't remember a time where it sounded funny. “I’ve never noticed.”

He grimaced.“You will now.”

“Say it.”

He sucked in a breath and blushed from embarrassment. “Arielle.”

It was true. His “AR’s” weren’t perfect. The “r” got distorted so that it sounded more like “Ah-we-el”. Though it wasn't really noticeable unless you were listening for it. In fact, it was kind of pretty to me.

“It sounds fine.” I punched his arm and swam away. I dived into the water and mimicked the movements of a mermaid. With my arms pulsing in front of me I moved my body on a slithering motion, propelling myself across the wide space. The water felt refreshing as it rushed by me, caressing my skin and letting go in seconds.

I came up for air and pushed my stringy wet hair out of my face. Through the strands, I saw Pete's wonderstruck expression. “You swim like a little mermaid. Why didn't you ever join the girl's team with Victoria?”

“Well, I'm not sure. Swimming was kind of her thing and honestly, I’m not that good.” I thought of the day I fell off the cliff and ended up nearly drowning in the water. Goosebumps ran up my arms. My swimming skills didn't save me, I still wasn't sure what did. “Did Victoria swim like a mermaid too?”

He leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “Now that I think about it, she did have quite an obsession with mermaids. You know Tori, she'd go through different stages of obsessing over things. Mermaids are the last stage I can remember.”

“Interesting.” Mermaids were random and way out of Tori’s goth taste. How'd you end up obsessing over them, I did not know.

Pete sniffled while running a hand through his hair. “That's enough about Tori. I need to move on.”

I nodded, empathizing with him. “Then tell me, do you think mermaids exist ?” It was a random question but it was always fun to know what others believed about things like that.

He swam over to me and flipped over onto his back. "Maybe. The ocean is a big place, there's a lot we haven't seen yet.”

“Yeah.” I thought for a second. “I think so too.”

We continued to play around and swim for a few more minutes. We didn’t mention Victoria or Zac or Hannah or anything heavy. Instead, we raced and talked about how the irrational fear that a shark was in the pool. Then I realized that it was getting dark out and with a murderer still running around town, and a stalker hacker running about to, I shouldn't be wandering the town so late.

I climbed out of the pool and grabbed a towel to dry up. Something dropped out from underneath it and fluttered to the ground.

“Hey Pete, did you drop something?” He looked over at me with a blank expression while drying his hair.

“Didn't bring anything except myself.”

I crouched and grasped the paper. It was addressed to me.

Swimming with my boyfriend, are we? Well, if you’re fishing for information here, you’re off. He’s more clueless than bait.

My breath caught in my throat. My boyfriend? Pete was Victoria's girlfriend so that would mean . . .

No. That wasn't possible so I wouldn't let my mind go there.

Fishing for information? This person knew I was searching for answers to Victoria's death. This had the same eerie feel as the hacked phone job but these couldn't be the same person. The person who hacked my phone was telling me to stop looking. This person was helping me by telling me Pete didn't know anything.

“What is it?” he asked trying to look over my shoulder. I quickly crumpled the paper up and shoved it in the trash can nearby.

“Nothing important.”

Pete couldn't know. He couldn't know that someone was posing to be Tori to communicate some sort of message to me whether that was to help me find the truth or mess with me. He couldn't know that someone, maybe Victoria's murderer, had threatened me to stop looking. He said it himself: He was wanted to move on. Who was I to take that away from him?

Pete was right. Sometimes it's better to suffer in silence.

_______________________

With my dry clothes on, I walked through the hallways of my school which were now dark. Most of the lights had been shut off and I was sure there were only a few night guards around with some lingering staff.

I was nearly running home. My feet barely scraped the ground as I made my way through the streets. Their constant tapping on the pavement was the only sound for miles. That was one of the reasons why I disliked this small town. Everything closed at an early hour, leaving the setting to reflect a ghost town after 7 on weekdays.

Apparently, as vacant as the town seemed, I wasn't alone.

Detective Carson, one of the people on Victoria’s case, was strolling down the block. He looked around passively, his keys jiggling from one of his belt loops.

Nope.

I was set on crossing the street. The last thing I wanted to do was chat with a Detective. But, as my luck would have it, he spotted me and waved.

“Arielle Rae Winters. It's nice that I ran into you.” He continued until he was by my side and when I tried to slip away he linked arms with me like we were longtime friends. “I've been wanting to talk with you.”

I cleared my throat, my dry. “Great.”

“So, what are you doing out this late anyway?” he asked unlinking our arms. I guess he figured I wouldn't try and run away anymore. “Shouldn't you be at home doing some homework or something?”

His attitude struck a nerve and I snapped. “Shouldn't you be at the station solving a murder case or something?”

He chuckled, a deep hearty sound. “Fair enough.” His eyes scanned the town before landing back on me. His gaze challenging. “You know, I've made an observation about this place and these people.”

I crossed my arms. “And what is that?”

“The people here, for the most part, are not very confrontational. I believe that even if they did know something that would help the case, they won't stop to talk about, making it really easy for someone to manipulate them.” His eyes were boring into me, making me shift and fidget.  “What do you think? Am I right?”

“I think . . . I think I need to go home. Goodbye.” Jogging away from Carson, I felt more at ease. Soon, he was just a figure in the distance.

I was almost home, keeping my pace quick, jumping at any sudden noise or movement. My nerves were high because I was seeing shadows cast upon every building and footsteps around every corner. I had been too quick to diagnose myself with paranoid for there was a threatening shadow waiting for me at the top of the block. A figure in a black hoodie.

I shrieked and fell against a wall, my heart picking up speed in my chest. I let out a shaky whimper before asking, “Who are you? What do you want?”

The figure didn't answer. Instead, it came closer.

I wasn't going to stick around to see what would happen when it reached me. My feet moved as fast as they could, my arms pumping beside me.

“Help! Someone help!” My body collided with someone else's, resulting in us both falling over.

I scrambled away to realize it was Detective Carson. He counted as a cop, right? The best person to run into at a time like so.

“What's wrong?” He wasn't flustered, he was alert as ever.

“Someone was chasing me.” I helped him up and away from the alley.

“Hold on a minute,” he said pushing me behind him. He clutched something tucked into his belt and slowly pulled it out.

A gun.

He walking toward the alley keeping low and quiet. All I knew was I wasn't going to depend on some random officer that was trying to pin a murder on my friends I to defend me. Spotting a clunky piece of metal next to a trash can, I picked it up and held it like a bat.

Crack!

A twig snapped behind me and I wasn't taking any chances. I swung the metal tube hearing the swoop noise it made when the person ducked. I raised it above my head, feeling determined to live and stop my attacker. But before I could, Detective Carson was disarming me.

He took the metal tube and tossed it aside. He locked his arms around my waist to drag me away, trapping my arms at my sides. Persistent on my survival, I struggled in his grasp. Tears were blurring my vision as my fear and confusion blurred as well.

Why was he detaining me? Was he in on it?

“Calm down! Stop struggling!”

I freed an arm and managed to elbow Carson hard in the stomach. The young man jumped back and released me to clutch his gut in pain. It was only then that I made out the figure who had approached me from behind. It was none other than Detective Brooks who watched me with a careful yet unalarmed stare.

“Not hesitant to strike or attack. Noted,” she said squinting at me obnoxiously.

“I- I thought you were the person in the hoodie. They were in the alleyway . . .” I glanced back. They were gone.

“I didn't see anyone,” Detective Carson spoke softly. “I think you're tired and frightened. That's all.”

I shook my head not wanting to go along with things any longer. “No. There was someone there. I know it.”

“Any reason someone would want to hurt you?” Carson shook his head at his partner, signaling that she shouldn't press the subject anymore. She did not care.

“Um - well - maybe. My best friend was killed not too long ago and her killer is still out here.” I scratched my arm and shifted my gaze towards the gravelly road.

“We know and we’re working on finding them. Just go on living your life as usual and we got the rest covered.”

“Of course.”

“Why don't we walk you home?”

“No thanks. As you saw I can handle myself. Bye.” Frankly, I had a bad feeling whenever I was around the detectives. Which is bad considering they were supposed to be the protectors of our town. After the encounter, getting some space from them sounded heavenly.

Upon arriving home, I went straight to my window overlooking the ocean in the far distance. I had a lot to ponder after the day. My mind was swirling with so many thoughts it felt like it may explode.

Zac didn't kill Victoria but how innocent was he really? Hannah was on a hate rampage with me as it's target and Pete's life wasn't as simple as I thought it had been. I was left to wonder who hacked my phone and who left the note at the swimming pool.

Yet, through all the chaos, one simple question floated in my head: If mermaids were real were their lives as complicated as ours? Because if they were easier I would love to be one.

Laying my head down on the window sill, I hummed the hypnotic melody from the