Cross Me Off Your List
Sunrise Valley?”
    Noah smiles but keeps his eyes on the road.
“I hope you like mermaids.”

Chapter Eleven
    Noah pulls his Oakley sunglasses over his
eyes before we get out of the car. I don’t think it’ll do much to
help hide his identity, but he insists, and I’m not about to argue.
My life could be on the line as far as Saturnites are concerned, so
if he puts on a mask, I’ll probably just smile and go along with
it.
    “Sunrise Valley’s Annual Mermaid Festival,” I
say, reading the words off the turquoise and silver banner.
    “I have a tattoo like that,” Noah says,
pointing to the mermaid tail on the letter S in Sunrise.
    “You have a mermaid tattoo?” I’m honestly
surprised. I know he’s pretty well-inked, but I don’t recall a
mermaid on his skin. “Where?”
    Noah slaps his own ass. “Right back there,”
he says. “Her tail actually sticks out of the top of my
boxers.”
    “You tattooed a mermaid on your ass?
Seriously?” I ask.
    He nods. “If you’re lucky, I might let you
see it sometime.”
    He grabs my hand and leads me through the
crowded street to see what this festival is all about. The last
festival I went to was in junior high with Hilary. She pigged out
on overpriced greasy food and then begged me to ride the
Tilt-a-Whirl with her. I held her hair while she puked up corndogs
in a trash can afterward. She was mortified, and we immediately
left. It’s not exactly one of my favorite memories.
    “So, what first? Food, rides, vendors?” Noah
asks. He pulls me closer to him as we push through the people.
    “You’re the one who had the bright idea of
coming here,” I remind him. “I think you need to take the
reins.”
    He smirks. “But you seem like one of those
take-control kind of girls.”
    “And when the time is right, I will
definitely take control,” I say, keeping my voice low so no one
around us hears me. In case he is recognized, I don’t want to end
up in the Saturn Sleaze next to Chloe and her Isaac scandal.
    Noah points to a teal sign that reads Mermaids This Way with a white arrow. A white starfish
serves as décor on the sign.
    “Want to see some mermaids?” he asks.
    While we stroll the vendor booths and admire
the bottles of mermaid tears (aka sea glass), the silicone mermaid
tails, and bedazzled bra tops that are all the rage in mermaid
fashion, I step aside to ask a few locals about the time for the
mermaid parade.
    “We have three hours,” I tell Noah. “So I’m
thinking food, rides, more food, and then I’m spending all of my
dad’s money on clothes and jewelry.”
    “Daddy’s money is no good here,” Noah says.
He wraps an arm around my shoulder. “Today is on me. No
arguing.”
    We walk over to the closest food vendor when
I remember the list. A mermaid festival has to be the best place to
cross off some items. Noah steps in line while I dig through my
purse for my bucket list.
    “One order of coral please,” Noah says to the
girl in the small booth.
    “Oh my God,” the girl says. “You’re Noah
Winters. Oh my God.”
    Noah puts his finger over his mouth to
silence her. Then he nods. Her co-worker, who may be her mom, fills
a bucket full of “mermaid’s coral” which is actually blue popcorn.
Noah signs an autograph for the girl – Meaghan, with an extra A and
‘make sure you don’t forget the H’ – and then she steps outside for
a brief selfie with him. Luckily no one else seems to be in line
for blue popcorn, so we go unnoticed.
    “That was covert,” I say, popping some coral
in my mouth. “I thought for sure you were screwed after she said
‘oh my God’ the second time.”
    Noah chews a few pieces of popcorn and then
shrugs. “What can I say? I’m good with the ladies.”
    For the next thirty minutes, I window shop
while Noah reminds me that I’m not actually a mermaid. After seeing
the dresses, bikinis, and oh my God the jewelry, I’m pretty sure
I’m ready to grow a tail and splash with the dolphins. I make

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