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There’s this girl.
No, not like that.
She is quiet, reserved. She talks to no one but stares at everyone. She sleeps in class and gets away with it. I hear people talk about her. How beautiful she is, how the room grows quiet when she enters. How when we do hear her speak, it sounds like a low melody that could put anyone to sleep. A song we cannot unhear, a face we cannot unsee, a presence we cannot ignore.
And I have tried to ignore it. I have. But it is hard when the girl everyone is infatuated with is, for some reason, infatuated with me.
Again, not like that.
See, when people hear her talk, it is because she is talking to me. When people see her smile, it is because she is looking at me. I hear people talk about us. The relationship we have. How we fight back and forth and all Sirena can do is smile. Like she’s happy we’re fighting, because at least she knows that I care enough to waste my breath on her.
And it is unbearable. Because I know it’s not real. Nothing is ever serious for Sirena, and I think she likes it that way. As if I am her plaything, her punching bag. I wish she would leave me alone, leave me to create this mess in my head about her without her fueling my delusions.
But I guess that’s why she won’t leave me alone. I think she likes seeing me frustrated.
I am in a classroom, alone, when she walks up to me.
“Sara.” She calls for me, low and slow. Her voice scares me after sitting in the quiet for so long.
“What are you doing here?”
She scoffs, grabbing a chair to sit beside me. “What are you doing here? It’s almost four in the morning.”
“I’m just—actually, it’s none of your business.”
“Then it’s none of your business why I’m here.”
“You think you’re being funny right now?”
She leans back in her chair. “I’m not laughing, am I?”
We sit in silence for a moment. That’s usually how it goes. Sirena says or does something to tick me off, and it puts us into a deafening silence that can last for hours. A silence thick like water, muting the sounds of the wind above. I feel myself drowning, and all Sirena can do is watch.
Sirena breaks the silence, groaning while stretching. “Ang seryoso mo.” You’re so serious.
“Well, I have to be. I need to pass this class.” I answer back in Tagalog.
“Do you want to take a break?”
“Nope. At least not with you.”
“Harsh.”
“Can I ask you something? Why are you still here?” I stop what I’m doing to face her. Really face her. I get a good look at her, eyes narrow and focused. Her nose slim and curving up to a point. Her lips, even though she wasn’t smiling, curled up at the ends. Her lips…
“Because I like you.” She answers.
“You do not like me.” I look away.
“That’s what you think. But I don’t think you know me as much as you do, Baylon.”
“No, but here’s what I know. You’re playing with me. You think it’s funny to tease me and provoke me and never take me seriously. Because that is all I am to you. A joke.” I am packing up my things, because I cannot stay in this room, in this building with her still in it. “I think I do know you, Sirena. I know that you are conniving, belittling, and a mockery.”
I take my stuff and I make my leave, leaving her behind the shut door of the classroom.
The campus is always nicer at night. The university was built right by the ocean, so students like to spend breaks between classes on the sand. I walk towards the sea, breathing in the salt and the dirt. The only lights that are on are street lights and I am too far away from the sidewalk, so I rely on the dimmed light of the moon and the stars.
I have always liked the ocean. Maybe because of my father. Or maybe I didn’t like the ocean, and I just liked my father and his stories. If I didn’t like the ocean, I wouldn’t know. He would bring me to any beach that was closest to us and tell me stories about the creatures that live in the ocean. He would tell me about the lives of tilapias and milk fishes, the fish we had eaten just days prior. He would tell me make-believe stories of mermaids and sirens. He told me that sirens were deadly, that they would lure pirates and common humans with their beautiful voices to only kill them. Why he would tell this tale to a seven-year-old, I don’t know. But it never scared me. If anything, it fascinated me. I would never get caught by the song of a siren, I said to him. I am too smart for that. And he would pat my back and agree with me.
I look out into the ocean, thinking maybe I’ll see one, hear one. But all I hear are the smooth crashes of the waves.
It is daytime when I see Sirena again. She looks tired, as do I, considering we were both up at four in the morning. I expect her to leave me alone after I left her by herself just a few hours ago.
But who am I kidding?
She makes a beeline to me, ignoring everyone who tried to talk to her as she passed. If only she’d treat me the same way.
“You never came back.” She says. She sounds hurt. Genuinely hurt.
“I brought all of my stuff with me, why would I come back?”
“Because you left me.”
I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Sirena, did you not hear me last night? Stop toying with me. I’m done.”
I start to walk away, but I stop as she grabs me by the arm. It’s the first time she’s touched me. And her hand feels so cold. Like it’s been sitting in ice.
“You don’t know me, Sara. Believe me.”
“Okay? I don’t need to know.”
“What if I want you to know?” She says. Her lips are not curled up anymore. This is the most serious I’ve ever seen her. Her hand has not left my arm, even though I’m not going anywhere. Not anymore.
“Fine then. Tell me.”
So she decides for us to meet in the dead of night again.
I stand by myself with the moon right above me, looking back out into the ocean. This time, it is almost pitch black, the part of the sky that meets the sea seems to blend. Like all that I am looking at is pure, dark water.
I should not have come.
Who would agree to meet someone at a time like this? No less meeting the person that has been pissing you off for the past two months. All because she wants me to know who she is.
But why meet here?
I hear faint footsteps, muted by the sand as Sirena runs up to me. “You came.”
“I wasn’t going to desert you twice,” I say, kicking at the sand that lies between us. “So. Go ahead. Tell me.”
Sirena nods and takes a deep breath. She closes her eyes and cracks her neck, taking deep breaths as if to calm her nerves.
And then she begins to strip.
“What are you doing.” I ask, turning away immediately, my face feeling hot.
“I’m showing you.”
“I don’t know what you thought knowing you meant, but I don’t need to see… that!”
“Just wait, Baylon.” She says with her voice deep.
I look up at the stars while waiting for her to finish, listening as she throws her clothes far back onto the beach. “Are you finished?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you do that?”
“I don’t want my clothes getting wet.”
“What—?” I start before I turn around and see her splash into the water.
My mind goes blank. I watch as splashes form around her, staring at her swim and swim.
There’s no way.
I watch as a greenish tail reveals itself and Sirena pops up from under the water, the other side of the tail.
“I—you—” I spew out. I could barely get out a syllable.
She swims to the shore, dragging herself back up on the beach. Her tail came with her, resting upon the sand as the moon reflected scales.
I hesitate before I sit down beside her, shoes off and feet grazing the water. “So.”
Sirena quietly laughs, but her voice still sounded so full and rich. “So.”
“You’re a mermaid.”
“Close. A siren.”
“Oh. Your name is kind of a giveaway, is it not?”
“No one believes that sirens exist. It’s a myth for a reason.”
“Well, it’s not a myth! You have a fucking tail attached to you!”
Sirena laughs again, louder this time. I end up laughing, too. Maybe because I felt delirious. No wonder people are so attracted to her. She’s a siren.
“Why did you show me this?” I ask.
I know this is a secret, a deep and personal secret that Sirena has only told to the number of people she could fit in one hand. But why me? Why trust in me enough to tell me that you’re part fish?
“Like I said. Because I like you.”
I shake my head, not accepting that answer again. “Sirena—”
“I’m serious.”
I shut up.
“You call me a mockery, and maybe I am. But I am not mocking you right now. Not anymore.”
The water hits us and birds are singing from above. Street lights are flickering and sand is getting between our fingernails. Seafoam moves with the waves and the stars shine in the black sky.
My hand finds its way into Sirena’s and she takes it, holding it close to her.
Like our hands were always meant to find each other and move with the world.