A few minutes later—though it felt like an eternity—she reached her locker. “Come on,” she whispered, twisting the combination lock and tugging it, to no avail. Ever since she had gotten to middle school and had to change classes throughout the day, she had been having stress dreams in which she forgot her locker combination. She tried again. Click. It unlocked, and the metal door swung open.
Right as a group of students walked past, rotten fish spilled out of her locker. They spewed onto the floor, their eyes wide and pale, along with a pile of plastic garbage—straws, plastic bags, old coffee cups, plastic bottles. It was the kind of trash that washed up on the beach.
The stench was overpowering, making Shelly gag. Worse yet, she stepped on a fish and lost her balance, hitting the floor with a thud and shouting out. The other kids turned to stare at the scene as more and more fish spilled out in a heap that coated Shelly’s body on the floor.
She tried shoving them away, but they kept gushing out of her locker and all over her, their lifeless eyes staring. Now everyone in the hall had stopped to look.
Normie laughed. “Fish lover!” he whooped, nudging his friends.
“They’re n-not mine!” Shelly stammered, pushing the slimy bodies off her and standing, holding on to the wall of lockers to keep from slipping back into the rotten fish pile.
Her mind struggled to come up with a rational explanation. Maybe her archnemesis, Judy Weisburg on the rival swim team, had planted them to intimidate her before the first meet? They’d face off that night in the hundred-meter freestyle. Judy was famous for pulling off elaborate pranks. Legendary, even. But then again, where would Judy have gotten all those fish? They looked exactly like the ones they fed to the dolphins at the aquarium. And also, how would she have snuck them into the school without being seen? More puzzling, how would she have gotten the combination to Shelly’s locker?
“Fish lover!” kids chanted.
Shelly’s face flushed. Now she was completely soaked in awful-smelling fish juice. She backed away from her locker. The fact that her family owned the aquarium made matters worse.
The other kids kept taunting her. “Fish lover! Shelly wants to marry a fish!”
“Tuna for lunch?” one kid quipped.
Shelly had never wanted so badly to disappear. Her cheeks felt as if they were turning into molten lava, like from an underwater volcano. She opened her mouth, then closed it, unsure of what to say.
“Look! She looks like a fish out of water!” someone cracked, followed by more laughter.
That was when Kendall stepped into view with Attina and Alana, all dressed in their designer yoga pants and T-shirts. They stared at Shelly. Kendall shot her a worried look. Her dainty nose scrunched up in disgust at the stench.
But then Kendall set her hands on her hips and turned her ire on the other kids. “Hey, don’t you losers have better things to do than make stupid jokes about fish?” she called out.
The twins joined her. “Yeah, hashtag Losers. Capital L,” Alana said.
“Stop being lame and leave our friend alone,” Attina added with a sneer.
Our friend, Shelly thought, warmth spreading through her body.
So they were friends.
The second bell rang, causing the crowd to scatter and rush off to their classes. Shelly slumped against her locker. Hot tears spilled from her eyes and dripped down her cheeks. This was turning out to be the worst day of her life—and it was only beginning.
But then Kendall wrapped her arm around Shelly. “Hey, don’t worry about this mess,” she said. “It’s probably just Judy and her annoying pranks. But we’ll show her tonight at the swim meet. We’re winning that trophy this year. You’re going to fly past her in your race.”
“Thanks, Kendall,” Shelly said, sniffling. “And you’re so right.”
“Hashtag winning,” Attina chirped.
“Hashtag regional champions is more like it,” said Alana.
“Yeah, we’ll help you clean this up later,” Kendall said. “I’m not the swim team captain for nothing! I’ll get the whole team to help. You’re not alone in this. We’re on your side.”
“Come on. Let’s get you changed. I have an extra hoodie in my locker,” Attina said.
“Thank you,” Shelly said. As she followed her friends to class, she felt grateful for their support. But a sinking feeling also pooled in her gut. She couldn’t let Judy beat her again. She couldn’t afford to let Kendall down. Not after Kendall had just come to her rescue and defended her. She had to win her race at all costs. Winning meant she could keep her friends and prove her worth. And it meant getting revenge on Judy for her putrid prank. Her eyes drifted back to her locker, where the rotting fish and pile of trash still sat in the hallway, stinking it up.
Her nightmare flashed through her head again. The coffee cup she had dropped in the ocean. The sea witch. The contract and the offer to grant her wish. But she blinked to clear her head. The prank had nothing to do with her nightmare. It was Judy Weisberg messing with her.
I’ll show her, Shelly thought. And once I do, everything will be okay.
Shelly dove off the block into the pool as the buzzer sounded.
Her pulse thudded with adrenaline as she hit the cool water. Her arms tore through it with her feet kicking in rhythm. The straps of her new competition suit dug into her shoulders. Vaguely, she was aware of cheering echoing through the indoor arena. She could just make out Judy Weisberg’s purple swim cap in the lane next to her. It bobbed into view every time she turned her head to breathe. Shelly counted her strokes in her head. One, two. Then breathe.
As Shelly’s arms propelled her through the chlorinated water, everything that was on the line rushed through her head—beating Judy, keeping her friends—and she kept seeing the dead fish and trash spilling out of her locker. Anger rose in her, making her swim harder. She heard Kendall’s voice in her head. We’re winning that trophy this year. You’re going to fly past her in your race. She had to win for Kendall and her teammates. She had to win for her school. And most important, she had to win for herself.
She couldn’t let Judy get away with that prank. And she couldn’t disappoint her friends—not after they’d come to her rescue when the other kids were taunting her in the school hall.
One, two. Then breathe.
Shelly swam as fast as she could, slicing through the water with her arms and legs in perfect rhythm. But after the first flip turn, she started to lose speed. She still had three more laps to go, but her arms were starting to feel like molasses. Her legs were wearing out, too.
Maybe it was from almost drowning in the ocean the day before? Terrible memories swirled through her head, making it hard to focus. The nightmare. The nautilus. The contract. Fighting with Dawson. The dead fish and gross trash in her locker. Despite her efforts, she couldn’t focus or keep pace with the others.
Especially Judy.
The purple swim cap kept getting farther and farther away, no matter how hard Shelly struggled in the pool. The water fought her every stroke, every breath, every lap.
Come on, you can do this! She turned her head to breathe but swallowed a mouthful of water instead, choking and almost losing her stroke altogether, which would disqualify her. This was nothing like swimming in the salty open ocean, where she felt at peace. This felt all wrong.