Of Poseidon by Anna Banks

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    Emma nods, then shakes her head. “Dating, yes. But she thinks we’re, uh, more than dating.”
    “Oh,” he says, thoughtful. Then he grins. “ Oh .” The reason her lips are turning his favorite color is because Emma’s mom thinks they’ve been dating and mating. The blush extends down her neck and disappears into her T-shirt. He should probably say something to make her feel more comfortable. But teasing her seems so much more fun. “Well then, the least she could do is give us some privacy—”
    “Ohmysweetgoodness!” She snatches her backpack from the seat and marches around her car to the driver’s side. Before she can get the door unlocked, he plucks the key from her fi ngers and tucks it into his jeans’ pocket. She moves to retrieve it, but stops when she realizes where she’s about to go fi shing.
    He’s never seen her this red. He laughs. “Calm down, Emma.
    I’m just kidding. Don’t leave.”
    “Yeah, well, it’s not funny. You should have seen her this morning. She almost cried. My mom doesn’t cry.” She crosses her arms again but relaxes against her door.
    “She cried hair? That’s pretty insulting.” She cracks a tiny grin. “Yeah, it’s an insult to me . She thinks I would . . . would . . .”
    “More than date me?”
    She nods.
    He steps toward her and puts his hand beside her on the car, leaning in. A live current seems to shinny up his spine. What
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    are you doing? “But she should know that you don’t even think of 0—
    me like that. That it would never even cross your mind,” he
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    murmurs. She looks away, satisfying his unspoken question— it has crossed her mind. The same way it crosses his. How often?
    Does she feel the voltage between them, too? Who cares, idiot? She belongs to Grom. Or are you going to let a few sparks keep you from uniting the kingdoms?
    He pulls back, clenching his teeth. His pockets are the only safe place for his hands at the moment. “Why don’t I meet her then? You think that would make her feel better?”
    “Um.” She swipes her hair to the other side of her face. Her expression falls somewhere between shock and expectation.
    And she had every right to expect it— he’s been entertaining the idea of kissing her for over two weeks now. She fi dgets the door handle. “Yeah, it might. She won’t let me go anywhere—
    especially with you— if she doesn’t meet you fi rst.”
    “Should I be afraid?”
    She sighs. “Normally I would say no. But after this morning . . .” She shrugs.
    “How about I follow you to your house so you can drop off your car? Then she can interrogate me. When she sees how charming I am, she’ll let you ride to the beach with me.” She rolls her eyes. “Just don’t be too charming. If you’re too smooth, she’ll never believe— just don’t overdo it, okay?”
    “This is getting complicated,” he says, unlocking her car.
    “Just remember, this is your idea and your fault. Now would be the time to back out.”
    He chuckles and opens the door for her. “Don’t lose me on the road.”
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    Emma tosses her backpack on the counter and pokes her head up the stairwell. “Mom, could you come down a sec? We’ve got company.”
    “Sure, sweetie. Be right down. They just called me in, so I’m in a hurry though,” is the answer from above.
    He shoves his hands in his pockets. Why am I ner vous? It’s just one more human to fool. But everything hinges on this human liking him, accepting him. Winning over Emma’s mother is just as important as winning over Emma. Her mother could make his task more diffi
    cult, cost him more time if she disapproves.
    Self- doubt settles in. If he hadn’t practiced with Rachel for those two weeks before school, he wouldn’t even be trying this.
    But Rachel was thorough. She