Friday (Saturday?) Fiction for March 23, 2012

I'm running late this week, as I completely spaced on being the host. Thursday, when I usually handle the Friday Fiction duties on my turn, started with the alarm going off at 4:30 for an early offset shift at work. This was to accommodate an appointment at the hearing clinic to pick up my hearing aids, and then we had the general meeting for the Scuba Club that night. At any rate, I will be back a little bit later to actually post something to read, but for now, here is the Linky tool for the other participants. My apologies for the tardiness!

Mermaid Weekend
Part 3

Teresa tucked her wet hair up under a towel, and, before sitting, dropped the robe from her shoulders to help protect the chair from the still dripping bathing suit. Trevor stood just inside the door, still wearing an expression of disbelief. “If someone comes in that door, they’re going to put the doorknob right into your back,” Teresa said. “Why don’t you sit down on the couch, or one of the chairs at the table?”

He wandered absently to the couch, and flopped into it. “You’ve been to the Island?” When she nodded in response, he added, “I can’t believe you never told me.”

“Tell you? I might as well just post it on every single one of my friends’ walls on Facenet, and maybe buy some advertising time on the television. You’re almost as good at keeping secrets as the National Tattler gossip magazine.”

“Don’t know why you wanted to keep it a secret.”

“Because not everyone really finds being a part of the Pod is something they can live with for a long time,” Marianne said, crawling in from a side room. “Sometimes, it’s easier to decide what you want to do, when the world isn’t watching.”

Trevor stared, and stammered some gibberish.

“Sorry, Trev,” Teresa said. “I asked Marianne and Gretchen to keep the bathing suit tops on, since Mom commented that you have an obsession with breasts lately.”

“I do not!”

“Should I remind you of all the files Dad deleted from your computer, before he and Mom put all kinds of controls on your access?”

Marianne laughed. “Gretchen is going to have fun with this one, isn’t she?”

“Not in front of Mom, please,” Teresa said. “I’m not sure my parents are too happy with this as it is, and if she gets the full brunt of Gretchen’s humor, she may never talk to me again.”

“Now, I’m hurt!’ Gretchen said, poking her head around the corner from another room. “I have an excellent sense of humor!”

“You have a bawdy sense of humor,” Teresa said. “I’ve never met anyone that had such an easy time making a G-rated Disney movie sound like a dirty movie.”

Gretchen crawled into the room. “Oh, you brought me a new toy?” She pushed up with her arms on the couch next to Trevor, and leaned close. “He’s kind of cute. I promise not to break him too quickly.”

“He’s only fifteen,” Teresa offered, in a teasing sing-song.

“Oh, too bad,” Gretchen said, bringing her face close to Trevor’s ear. It was difficult to tell if he was enjoying the attention, or was terrified. “I could have just eaten… you… up.”

“I’m… a very mature fifteen,” Trevor blurted.

“Doesn’t matter,” Marianne said. “Pod rules, you know. Eva and Marta would not take any excuse.”

“But, I’m not a member of the Pod,” he objected.

“Ah, but I am,” Gretchen said. “And you are so delightfully gullible.”

All three girls shared a laugh, before Teresa asked, “So, where’s Timothy?”

“I think he was planning on having a chat with your father,” Marianne said.

“Oh, that should be interesting,” Gretchen said. “Hopefully, he isn’t like Emilio. I mean, if Suzanne were here, that wouldn’t be a problem, but I’m not sure Timothy is quite in Suzanne’s league.”

“No one is in Suzanne’s league,” Marianne said. “I don’t think even Eva would have handled Emilio quite that way.”

“What?” Trevor asked. “Who’s Emilio, and what did Suzanne do to him?”

“Let’s just say that, if you ever want to see just how close you can come to drowning without actually dying, just make Suzanne angry,” Gretchen said. “Which, incidentally, you might do, if she catches you staring at her breasts.”

“Really?”

Gretchen turned pleading eyes on Marianne. “Please, can I play with him? He is sooo gullible.”

Both Marianne and Teresa responded in unison. “No.”

to be continued...