The Miseducation of Emma Gilbert [fic]

[isabrella]

The Miseducation of Emma Gilbert (7115 words) by isabrella
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: H2O: Just Add Water
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Rikki Chadwick/Emma Gilbert
Characters: Rikki Chadwick, Emma Gilbert
Additional Tags: Candy Hearts Exchange 2025, Internalized Homophobia, Canon Universe, Loosely inspired by S02E04 Fire and Ice

Summary:

Emma’s parents are going away for the weekend. Cleo’s busy. Elliot’s at a sleepover.

It’s just Emma and Rikki, all alone in her bedroom. All weekend.

Rikki’s running her hands over the surface of the water, gesturing for Emma to join her, like a siren, enticing Emma to bad choices, over and over and over again.

Or: Emma would stop the world just to stop this feeling.

Notes:

Originally written for falsenine on AO3 as part of Candy Hearts Exchange 2025.
we gotta read cameron post babe

i fear i'm having a theme in my writing lately.
Thanks to resurrecho for beta-ing.

---

Emma grins at Rikki and Cleo as the three of them surface in the moon pool. They had a half-day at school for the Teachers’ Union meeting, so they’ve got the whole afternoon to themselves.

“Perfect,” Rikki says with satisfaction, letting her whole body float up on the surface and sighing.

“So,” Emma says, and Cleo looks over at her. “My parents are going away this weekend.”

“Where?” Rikki asks, suddenly looking a lot more interested.

“A crystalware convention.” Emma closes her eyes, then reopens them.

Rikki is staring at her.

“My mum collects figurines,” Emma says, waving a hand.

“You know, the worst part about that is that I’m not even surprised.” Rikki rolls her eyes.

Emma huffs. “Elliot’s staying with a friend all weekend, so the house will be empty… I thought we could do a girls’ weekend,” she continues, ignoring Rikki.

“Aww,” Cleo says, making a pouty face. “I wish. I can’t stay over. Dad’s working and I’ve gotta look after Kim,” Cleo adds. “What about you, Rikki?”

Rikki rolls her eyes again. “Yeah, a sleepover in my jim-jams. You’re kidding, right?”

“Yeah, it’s not really Rikki’s scene,” Emma admits, looking down. She’s almost relieved that Rikki won’t want to come over. If it was the three of them, all they’d do would be facemasks and silly movies—Emma’s mum handed her the 5-for-$4 Video Ezy coupon this morning—and probably end up eating way too much Cadbury’s.

With just Rikki… well, Rikki’s a wild card, and Emma’s been having some odd thoughts whenever she’s with her recently. She’s not keen to explore those further without adult supervision. Or Cleo there as a buffer. “That’s okay—” she starts, shrugging, but Rikki interrupts her.

“Then again, you’ve got cable, widescreen TV, hot and cold running snacks… Why not?” She grins at Emma, catlike in the blue light. “I’ll be there.”

---

 

Emma spends a long time getting ready for Rikki to come over.

Usually if just Rikki or Cleo is staying over, they’ll sleep in Emma’s bed—it’s a queen, so it’s more than comfortable—but Emma doesn’t think she can handle that tonight. Rikki being so close to her… she’s always hotter than Emma, her powers somehow radiating from her pores.

She remakes Elliot’s bed with clean sheets, corners tucked in just so; Rikki can sleep there. A whole wall between them is exactly what Emma needs.

She goes downstairs and starts arranging the snacks in the cupboard by use-by date.

It’s just logical.

Her mum is fussing around, making sure everything is packed up neatly. It’s like she sets herself a challenge to see exactly how efficiently she can pack.

Emma appreciates the sentiment.

The doorbell rings and Emma freezes in place, then puts the Le Snaks down slowly. Her mum opens the door.

“Hello,” she says, sounding pleased. “I’m so glad you’re able to come and keep Emma company for the weekend.”

“Thanks so much for having me to stay,” Rikki responds politely.

“It’s my pleasure, Rikki, you’re always welcome.”

Emma pulls her head out of the kitchen cupboard and goes to greet Rikki. She’s all clumsy, hands and feet too big for her body.

“Hey, Rikki. You can put your bag in my room,” she says, but Rikki’s already halfway up the stairs.

Emma sighs.

“Would you make us a cup of tea, love?” Emma’s mum asks as she puts her carry-on suitcase next to the door.

“Of course,” Emma says, taking the excuse not to follow Rikki to her bedroom.

When Rikki comes back down, Emma is serving up tea. Rikki declines with a wave of her hand and grabs a Coke from the fridge instead.

“So, what’s in the box?” Rikki asks, gesturing to the large blue box on the coffee table as she sits on the couch opposite Emma’s parents.

“My latest acquisition from Casa Crystal. I’m sure Emma’s told you I’m a very keen collector,” Emma’s mum says, flipping open the top.

“She has, but I’m not gonna hold it against you.” Rikki smiles charmingly.

Emma rolls her eyes behind Rikki’s back. Her mum adores Rikki. Butter wouldn’t melt and all that. She can pretty much get away with saying anything.

“What do you think? It’s the jewel in the crown of my collection.” Her mum proudly displays the blown glass dolphin figurine. In Emma’s opinion, it’s rather blobby. And she’s not sure why Casa Crystal sells so many glass things.

God forbid she say anything like that though. Her mum would be so upset.

Her mum looks at them expectantly.

“Mum, it’s…” Emma fumbles for something to say.

“Absolutely hideous!” Rikki says cheerfully. “But I guess that’s what makes it art, right?” She smiles brightly, cracking her Coke open with a deft movement.

Emma’s jaw drops open. Her mum giggles at Rikki.

Sure, whatever.

Emma definitely couldn’t get away with that.

“So when are you leaving?” Rikki asks brightly. Emma can tell it’s impatient. Rikki’s planning exactly how to make the most of the parent-free time.

Her mum probably just thinks Rikki’s interested in their trip.

“Probably around half an hour,” she responds.

“Great,” Rikki says. “That gives us… almost three days! What can we squeeze into that, Em? Three wild parties? Maybe four?”

Emma glares at her.

Her mum cackles. “Ah, Rikki. Come on, darling, let’s go and put everything in the car,” she says to Emma’s dad, and they head upstairs.

Emma redoubles her glaring.

“What’s up?” Rikki says, grinning at her.

“We’re not having a— party!” Emma says furiously.

“Lighten up, Emma,” Rikki laughs, taking a sip of tea with her pinky extended mockingly. “Don’t worry, I’m all yours for the whole weekend.”

Emma goes bright red. “That’s not— I mean! You’re not— Ugh!” She stomps up the stairs to her room.

She doesn’t know what to do with herself when she gets there. Her parents are going to leave soon, and then she’ll be all alone with Rikki and her infuriating smile. Maybe she should throw a party to put some warm bodies in between them.

No! She shakes her head at herself. She’s not going to do something irresponsible and stupid just because of Rikki. She’s better than that. She just has to make sure Rikki behaves.

She’s Emma Gilbert. She doesn’t back down from a challenge.

---

“Let’s go get some DVDs,” Emma says.

That’s a normal thing to do at a sleepover. They can get a pizza for dinner on the way, choose some DVDs to watch, watch one—or maybe even two if they’re feeling really wild—and then go to bed, in their separate rooms. And everything will be fine because Emma won’t ever have to think about Rikki getting a little too close, the low neckline of her tank tops, the way she smells kind of salty and—

Emma crosses her arms and huffs.

Rikki is sprawled on Emma’s bed, getting Pringles crumbs on the covers, tank top riding up.

It’s nothing Emma hasn’t seen before. Their mermaid tops cover much less than any shirt.

But it’s somehow different, seeing Rikki in her regular clothes, on Emma’s bed, completely relaxed.

Emma thinks about what it would be like to join her. If the dip in the bed would roll them together just so and Rikki would press against her—

Sometimes Emma feels like becoming a mermaid didn’t just change her on the outside. Sometimes she feels like it wrought some overwhelming change on her insides too.

Before, it used to be so easy to do everything right. She liked studying for hours and the satisfaction of getting an expected A grade back. She liked swimming laps and shaving seconds off her time, knowing she was going to place at regionals and the state championship and probably even nationals.

Her parents thought she was a good girl. She never wanted to stay out late or do anything crazy. She never dated boys and all her friends were good girls too, who studied and got at least Bs and went to Disney movies together on Friday nights.

She never gave a second thought to sleeping next to the other swim team girls at sleepovers.

She looks at the conspicuously empty space next to Rikki on the bed and clenches her jaw.

Rikki looks up at her, crunching the last Pringle dramatically, pulling her tank top down to cover the peek of skin at her hips. “Okay. But only if we can get some sour worms too.”

Emma rolls her eyes. “After dinner.”

“This is dinner!” Rikki says.

Emma winces.

---

“The Little Mermaid?”

Emma laughs, despite herself.

“Nah, you’re right, it’s a little on the nose,” Rikki says, putting it back down.

Emma thinks about her swim team friends, the movies they would pick out, and her hand twitches towards the The Princess Diaries. That’s safe.

Rikki rolls her eyes.

“Live a little, Em,” she says. “It’s no raging party, but at least you can watch something a little risque.”

Emma looks over the PG section, but Rikki’s already gone around the corner to the Mature section. Emma sighs and follows her.

“How about this?” Rikki says, waving a pink-and-blue case at her.

Emma squints at it. But I’m a Cheerleader. Rikki hands her the case and Emma scans it.

The word lesbian jumps out at her. “No!” Emma says, shoving it back at Rikki. Rikki takes it infuriatingly slowly, smirking at Emma like she can read her mind.

“Why not?” Rikki says, slow, raising an eyebrow. Emma tries to control the furious flush on her cheeks.

“My parents wouldn’t approve of us watching an M movie,” she says quickly.

“Your parents aren’t home,” Rikki says. “Come on, Em. Be a rebel.”

“Just because they’re gone doesn’t mean we can throw all the rules out the window,” Emma says primly, over the sound of her heart beating in her ears. It seems like Rikki’s chest is a magnet that she has to fight to keep her eyes off.

“Doesn’t it?” Rikki says, stepping dangerously close to Emma to return the DVD to the shelf.

---

The silence between them is charged now.

Emma can’t stop thinking about Rikki’s secretive little smile, the heat of her body pressed close to Emma’s in the video store. After putting Bring It On—a much safer cheerleading-themed movie—in the DVD player, Rikki plopped herself on the couch right next to Emma, bowl of popcorn on her lap.

“Give me some of that,” she commanded, yanking the fluffy blanket off Emma’s legs and slotting her own underneath it too.

She’s not touching Emma, not exactly, but Emma can feel the electric potential of the interaction hanging over them, Rikki’s thigh just a handswidth away. It’s like she’s taunting Emma after what happened in the video store.

Rikki seems perfectly at ease, sipping from a mug of hot chocolate and popping back handfuls of popcorn as the cheerleaders jump and spin and gyrate.

Emma reaches over for a handful of popcorn at the same time that Rikki’s hand dives back in. Emma’s pinky brushes against Rikki’s and she yanks it back to her body, sending a shower of popcorn all over the blanket.

“Em, are you—”

“I’m going to clean that up,” Emma says hastily, jumping up so the blanket falls onto Rikki’s lap entirely.

She gets the dustpan and brush from the cupboard and sweeps it all up in a neat pile, then puts all that in the bin, then puts the dustpan and brush away on their hook. Rikki is staring at her as she sits back down, this time at the other end of the couch, trying to make it seem casual.

The rest of the movie passes in a tense blur. Every swishing skirt and bouncing flip, every hand on a waist, seems obscene to Emma’s eyes now. She wonders if Rikki is thinking about her.

That’s ridiculous.

The second the credits roll, Emma is up and taking the popcorn bowl to the kitchen, scrubbing it unnecessarily hard—they have a dishwasher, but it’s full, so she doesn’t want to leave it overnight.

When she turns around, hands dripping suds, Rikki is slouched against the counter, insouciant.

“Ready for bed?” she says, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Emma says firmly, drying her hands on a tea towel. She folds it neatly in half and puts it back on the oven door.

Rikki follows her up the stairs.

“I made up Elliot’s bed for you,” Emma says, stopping in the hall and opening the door. Rikki bangs into her from behind.

“Jeez, Em, what are you doing? It’s fine, I’ll sleep in your bed.”

“I just thought since Elliot isn’t here, and there’s a spare bedroom, you might want some… privacy,” Emma says.

“I’m good,” Rikki says, waltzing past her and into her bedroom.

Emma grinds her teeth for a long second, then shuts Elliot’s door a little harder than necessary. Why can’t Rikki just go along with things?

When she gets to her room, Rikki is half-undressed, her shirt off and back to Emma. Emma must make some kind of noise, because Rikki turns around, shaking out a tank top in her hands before pulling it over her head, grinning wryly.

“Come off it, Em, are you scared of me or something?” Rikki demands, laughing. She jumps on the bed, rolling her eyes. “Let’s play truth or dare,” she adds, snuggling under the covers.

Emma hovers for a second. It’s weird if she doesn’t get into bed. It’s weird if she does. Rikki, so close to her, breathing her air. Rikki, who seems determined to wind her up.

Rikki looks at her expectantly, and Emma caves, getting into bed.

“Nah, turn the lights off,” Rikki says. “It’s a sleepover!”

“Turn them off yourself,” Emma says childishly.

“Okay, okay,” Rikki says, getting out of bed and doing the honours.

Back in bed, she turns on her side, looking at Emma intently, blue eyes wide. The light of Emma’s desk lamp is all they have to see by, casting Rikki’s face in odd, craggy shadows. Emma swallows, then rolls onto her back, staring up at the ceiling instead.

“Truth or dare?” Rikki asks softly.

Emma hesitates over her answer. Truth could be any number of embarrassing questions. Dare could be anything, and Emma bets Rikki would take great pleasure in trying to get her to break the rules.

“Truth,” she says after a pregnant pause.

“Tell me something about you.”

Emma pauses.

“Something that Cleo doesn’t know,” Rikki amends, eyes flashing with a challenge.

Emma presses her lips together, hard.

“Do you want to do a dare instead?” Rikki pokes her side and Emma jumps, pulling away.

She rolls onto her back, away from Rikki. “I miss swimming.”

“You’re a mermaid.”

Emma sighs. “Not like that. Like, competitive swimming. I went to nationals last year. I might have—would have, I would have—placed first this year.”

“I’m sorry,” Rikki says softly. Emma waits for the wisecrack, but none is forthcoming.

“It’s just… different,” Emma says. “I miss knowing it was all me. When I swim now, it feels like the whole world is bending so I can move through the water. In the pool, it was work. It was satisfying.”

Rikki doesn’t have anything to say to that.

“Whatever,” Emma says, looking away, at the circle of light her lamp casts on the ceiling, just catching a glow-in-the-dark star on the edge.

“Hey—” Rikki says, grabbing her hands. Emma freezes at her touch. Her hands are warm, a little dry, her thumb moving ever so slightly over the back of Emma’s hand like she doesn’t even notice. “Let’s sneak into the pool.”

“What?” Emma says, blinking.

“You miss it,” Rikki says. “I know you haven’t even been near that building since we changed.”

Emma shrugs, covers moving with her.

“Come on,” Rikki says, leaping out of bed. Emma hasn’t seen her look this enthusiastic, possibly ever.

“We can’t—” Emma starts. “We’ll get in trouble.”

“Oh, please,” Rikki says. “No one is going to be at school at 10 pm on a Friday.”

“No one is supposed to be at school at 10 pm on a Friday.”

“Live a little,” Rikki says. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“We get caught. Someone finds out we’re mermaids! We get detention.”

Rikki laughs at her. “That won’t happen.”

“How do you know?” Emma demands, but she’s getting out of bed, against her will.

Rikki just smiles mysteriously.

---

Emma stops short as Rikki lets out a whoop and runs and dives into the pool. The water swirls and when she pops up, grinning, she’s transformed, fin flicking out of the water.

Emma can’t believe they’re here.

She just stands there to take it all in. She hasn’t really been back here since the transformation.

The hollow yellow light on the pool, Rikki running her hands over the surface of the water, gesturing for Emma to join her, like a siren, enticing Emma to bad choices, over and over and over again.

Emma steps back, unconsciously, looking around at her surroundings.

It’s so different from before. No coaches with stopwatches, no bags slung on the bleachers, no swim team. Just Rikki, lithe in the water, backlit by the pool lights.

Illicit.

Emma steps up to the rim of the pool and hovers for a second. Then she raises her arms, curving her body forward, and dives in.

For a split second, she believes that she won’t change, that she’ll swim the length of the pool with her real legs, like she did before, and Rikki won’t be here at all.

When she surfaces at the other end of the pool, she has a tail.

She swirls it through the water forlornly. The pool is different at night, like this, alone, with Rikki. It’s small, claustrophobic, not like the open ocean at all.

It’s never going to be like it was before.

Rikki pops up beside her. “So…?” she says expectantly.

“This was stupid,” Emma says shortly, pushing herself away from Rikki’s bright eyes.

“No, it’s fun,” Rikki says, splashing to demonstrate. Emma can feel the strong eddies of water pulled by her tail. It’s all wrong.

“It’s not,” Emma says, pulling herself out of the pool and swinging awkwardly to sit with her tail dangling in the water, leaning back on her hands. She wants to get out of the water so she can go back to normal, but she doesn’t want to look stupid flopping around on the edge of the pool like a flounder.

“Emma—” Rikki starts, then stops, obviously seeing that Emma’s not in the mood. She dives backwards under the water, swimming a big circle before coming to lean against the edge of the pool where Emma is staring over at the changing sheds. “Shall we go?” she asks.

Emma nods.

Rikki hauls herself out and steam-dries them until they’re back to normal, sprawled on the concrete. It feels vulnerable, when Emma transforms, right on the pool’s edge, steam rising around her, Rikki watching her.

She sits up, carefully avoiding the water, and gets to her feet.

They walk home in uncharacteristic silence.

“I’ll… I’ll sleep in Elliot’s room,” Rikki says, when they get to the top of the stairs.

Emma bites her lip. “No, no, it’s fine,” she says.

“Are you sure?” Rikki asks, and no, Emma’s not sure, but Rikki was trying.

They climb into Emma’s bed, and Rikki tosses and turns for a few seconds, getting comfortable. “Good night, Em,” she murmurs.

“’Night, Rikki,” Emma says back.

---

This was a mistake.

Rikki is definitely asleep, head tilted to one side, mouth slightly open, soft almost-snores issuing from her mouth.

Emma watches her, the pale blonde of her eyelashes and the pinkness of her lips, the curve of tan along her forehead—she really should wear sunscreen more—the wispy curls of her bangs.

Something about tonight has cracked her open.

She can’t stop thinking about kissing Rikki.

She doesn’t know how she’s going to survive another two days of this.

She shouldn’t want any of this. She doesn’t want Rikki to be in her head like this. She doesn’t fit with Emma’s plans. She’s too unpredictable.

Emma closes her eyes, trying not to think about the soft pinkness of Rikki’s lips.

It takes her a long time to get to sleep.

---

When Emma wakes up in the morning, Rikki’s gone, the duvet shoved carelessly half-off Emma, the salty-fresh smell of Rikki lingering on the pillowcase in contrast to the cloudy chlorine of Emma’s skin.

Emma looks at the sunlight slanting through the crack in her curtains, pooling by her feet. It reminds her of the light from underwater, but it’s rippling over her very human feet, so of course it’s nothing like that at all.

She gets out of bed and goes to the bathroom.

She doesn’t know where Rikki’s gone—probably just downstairs to eat some toast or watch something on the TV—but her toothbrush is lying in a puddle of water on the vanity. Her toothpaste is uncapped. She’s left her hairbrush, trailing hairs, on the vanity, and she’s used Emma’s moisturizer and left it, open, on the counter.

Emma crosses her arms. It’s like she’s trying to annoy Emma.

As if it’s not bad enough that she’s confusing Emma with all of these… feelings and… questions.

Rikki just has no respect for the way things are meant to be. If everyone behaved like that, society would just fall apart! If no one flattened their tissue boxes and put their aluminium tabs inside soft drink cans, there would be so much unnecessary landfill!

Emma rights everything, wipes up the spills, and puts Rikki’s toothbrush in a cup. Then she storms down to the kitchen.

Rikki is stationed by the stovetop, a large bowl next to her, dirty whisk dripping batter on the counter, cracked eggs just put back into the carton. Her hair is in two messy plaits, the straps of her tank top just a bit stretched out so that Emma can see just a bit more than she’s comfortable with.

She redirects her attention to the mess on the counter instead. She can fix that. It’s not like she can reach over and pull Rikki’s tank top up to cover her cleavage. And even if she did, it would probably just expose the curve of her stomach.

Maybe tank tops should be banned like CFCs.

“What are you doing?” Emma demands.

“Making breakfast,” Rikki says cheerfully.

“Listen, my parents like order,” Emma says, picking the eggs out of the carton and putting them in the compost bin. “This house runs like a well-oiled machine. They don’t like people… messing around.”

“Who’s messing around?” Rikki asks, flipping a pancake onto a plate. She ladles another into the pan, leaving a trail of batter drips on the counter.

Emma huffs and gets the kitchen spray and a dishcloth, wiping all along the counter. “You! This is messing around! The bathroom was messing around!”

“Oh, no,” Rikki says, never taking her eyes off the batter, which is at least mostly inside the bowl now.

Emma glares at her, arms crossed. “Like I said, my parents like order. Not mess.”

“Is it your parents who like order… or you?” Rikki teases.

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting things to be neat and tidy!” Emma says.

“You take it to the extreme,” Rikki says. She flips the pancake.

“I do not!” Emma says. “You’re the one who’s not normal. It’s normal to want things to be in the… right place.”

Rikki steps a little closer to her. “Have some breakfast,” she says, sliding a second pancake on top of the first and pushing the plate towards Emma.

“What is that?” Emma says. Both pancakes are leaking dark brown.

“Chocolate chips,” Rikki says, ladling another into the pan.

“That’s not…”

“What?” Rikki says, teasing. “Normal? Tidy? Whatever. It’s fun. And tasty,” she adds, sticking a finger into the melted chocolate on Emma’s plate and licking it.

Emma glares at her. She wants to kick the floor in frustration. She doesn’t, because that would be childish. “I can have fun!”

“Prove it,” Rikki says, infuriating smirk on her face. “I bet you already tidied up in the bathroom, didn’t you?”

“No!” Emma says, glaring at her.

Rikki ignores her and waltzes past her.

“Where are you going?” Emma says. Rikki ignores her again.

Emma wavers, then reaches over and turns off the stove before she follows Rikki.

“Exhibit A, people,” Rikki says, when Emma reaches the bathroom. “Spick and span. You know, Emma, I think you need to learn to let things go.”

Emma huffs and stomps down the hall a few steps, before turning back to look at Rikki. She still looks so relaxed, hand propped on the doorjamb, a streak of chocolate on her tank top, bangs splitting apart in the middle. She shouldn’t get to be that relaxed. She came to Emma’s house and messed things up.

“What?” Emma says, a little wild. “Don’t you think I’d like to slack off and lay around the house once in a while? I can’t, because it would…” She trails off. Her heart is beating a little wildly in her chest. If she lets anything slip, then everything will slip. Her carefully-curated real life. Her grades. Her big secret.

“It would what?” Rikki stands up and steps closer to Emma, tilting her chin up like a challenge.

It would open the door to… more. More chaos and more confusion and more of these confusing feelings about Rikki.

“Look, maybe you should just… relax? Go with the flow a little more?” Rikki suggests, spreading her hands wide. “Come on, Em. What’s gonna happen if you let go a little?”

Emma steps backwards, away from Rikki and her daring blue eyes and her knowing half-smile. “Don’t you get it?” she snaps. “We have to be careful! We have to be careful for the rest of our lives. If we ever mess up, that’s it. We’ll be carted off like some… some freakshow. We can’t ever slip up. Not for a moment.”

Rikki watches her for a long second, eyebrows raised, then shrugs. “Maybe I’m just used to not being Little Miss Perfect.”

“I’m not—”

Rikki’s already gone, down the stairs, back to the kitchen.

---

After breakfast, Emma doesn’t load the dishwasher.

She doesn’t wipe up the batter spilled on the counter. She doesn’t fill the mixing bowl with water.

She leaves their plates on the coffee table, because they ate breakfast on the couch—the couch—and goes upstairs to her room.

Rikki’s already there, sitting in front of her mirror, running Emma’s brush through her hair. Emma grits her teeth. It’s fine. That’s fine.

“So… what rebellion does Emma Gilbert want to get up to today?” Rikki says, flashing her teeth at Emma.

Emma shrugs, going to her (neatly-made) bed and flopping onto the covers. “Oh, I dunno…” she says. “I’m going with the flow. I’m relaxed.”

“Uh huh,” Rikki says, twisting her hair into a plait on one side. “I see. Let’s have a wild party, then.”

“No—” Emma starts, then stops herself. “Yeah, why not? A wild party.”

Rikki raises her eyebrow in the mirror as she pulls the other half of her hair into a plait, strands escaping out everywhere. Emma can see the curve of her neck underneath, the smooth skin, slightly tanned.

“It’s not gonna work, you know,” Rikki says, locking eyes with Emma in the mirror as she looks away from the back of Rikki’s neck and the messy, jagged split of her blonde hair.

“What?” Emma says, sticking her head up. When she sees her reflection, she ducks back down; she looks way too invested, not cool at all.

“All this,” Rikki says, waving a hand. “‘A wild party’. Please. You’re just trying to make a point.”

“You don’t know me at all, do you? Let’s have a party. Invite everyone. Invite boys.”

Rikki raises her eyebrows again, small smile twisting on her face. “Boys, huh?”

“Why not?” Emma says defiantly.

“You know this won’t work,” Rikki repeats. “You’re trying to be something you’re not.”

Emma sits up, glaring at Rikki. “What, you’re the only one who can be a rebel?”

Rikki swings around on Emma’s chair. “Oh, I get it. You think leaving a couple of dishes makes you a rebel. Well, it doesn’t. You have to really break the rules to be a rebel.”

“Whatever.” Emma sits up, swinging her legs over the end of the bed, crossing her arms.

Rikki smirks at her, picking up her towel from where it was neatly hung on its hook. “Go on. Make a mess. Toss it on the floor.” She balls it up and throws it at Emma, not hard, but not soft, either.

Then she saunters out of the room, not sparing a glance backwards.

Emma groans and throws it down, crossing her arms.

---

Emma regrets this.

Her house is filled with everyone from school and then some people she doesn’t even know.

Rikki looks in her element, sipping from a cake of Coke and watching Lewis and Cleo fail terribly at Dance Dance Revolution.

Emma watches someone get sour cream and onion chips all over the armchair and she doesn’t even move to clean it up. It’s whatever, right? She’s going with the flow.

Rikki gets up and saunters over to Emma. “Isn’t this great, Em?” she says, and Emma can tell that she’s just trying to get a rise.

“Yeah. I love parties,” she says, refusing to give it to her.

“Why don’t we go in the hot tub?” Rikki suggests.

“Now?” Emma hisses. Quite apart from the fact that she doesn’t know if she can handle being pressed that close to Rikki, her house is crawling with people. Someone will see them.

Maybe that’s what Rikki wants.

“What better time?” Rikki asks.

“Someone might see us!”

“I thought you were a rebel,” Rikki says.

“I’m—”

Rikki is already gone, out the sliding door, and Emma glances around furiously before she follows her. Rikki’s standing next to the hot tub, one hand non-chalantly on the cover.

“Oops,” she says, sliding it off the side. It falls and unfolds untidily. Emma’s mum would be mad about that.

Emma’s mum’s not here.

Emma holds her breath. “Rikki, you can’t,” she says. A party is one thing. Revealing their secret in the name of breaking the rules is not. She looks over to the party inside, desperately hoping Cleo might intuit that she needs her.

Cleo is on her third round of Dance Dance Revolution.

Rikki hovers a hand over the surface and Emma starts to say something.

She’s interrupted by Nate, clattering his way out onto the deck. Rikki whips her hand back and Emma breathes a sigh of relief; she doesn’t like Nate, but at least he’ll stop Rikki from splashing her.

“What are you girls doing out here?”

“Nothing,” Rikki says shortly, brushing past him rudely to go back inside.

He opens his mouth to say something to Emma and she follows Rikki instead, ignoring him.

He mutters something from behind her as he comes back inside, but he turns away to start up a conversation with another girl from school, thankfully.

There are scattered chip crumbs all over the floor and spilled soft drink on the counter and people with their shoes on in the living room.

It’s fine. Emma’s going with the flow.

And because she’s going with the flow, she’s watching Rikki from across the room as Rikki plucks a handful of sour worms from her mum’s expensive salad bowl, and she doesn’t notice Sophie, from school, tripping over in front of her, Sprite in hand.

“I’m sorry!” she cries out as her Sprite makes a perfect arc onto Emma’s shirt.

Rikki has just turned back around, so she sees the whole tableau. She stares in suspended horror for a second, then makes a quick run across the room, gesturing Emma to go outside.

“It’s fine!” Emma nearly shouts, turning and rushing onto the balcony. She catches sight of Cleo’s turned head and hopes she has the good sense to stop anyone from coming out here.

She rushes over to the hot tub, swinging herself up onto the edge right before she transforms, landing with a splash in the cold, cold water.

She turns and sees Rikki stop short next to the tub, just out of reach of the mini-tsunami she creates.

“Are you happy now?” Emma says, crossing her arms.

“Me? I think this is hilarious,” Rikki says cheerfully, coming closer and resting a hand on a dry spot on the edge of the tub. Emma thinks about splashing her.

“Of course you do,” Emma says bitterly. Her hand inches towards Rikki’s.

“What are you guys doing?” Cleo bursts out onto the deck and Emma swivels to look at her, feeling like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

“Emma’s having her teenage rebellion,” Rikki says lightly.

“I cleared everyone out,” Cleo says. “This was a terrible idea!”

Emma nods her head emphatically. “We never should have done any of this.”

“You guys worry too much,” Rikki says, tilting her head back up to the stars and then looking back at them with a wide smile, canines showing.

“Whatever,” Cleo says, “I’m going home.”

“No,” Emma says quickly, seizing the opportunity. “You should stay, sleep over tonight.”

“And help you clean up that mess in there? No thanks,” Cleo says. “Plus, Kim, remember? I shouldn’t have even left her for this long.”

“Yeah,” Emma says.

Cleo waves as she leaves. Emma turns to Rikki.

“People could have found out about us!” she says accusingly.

Rikki just smiles that infuriating smile, and Emma is so incensed that she’s pushed her into this situation that she leans forward, just a little, and flicks her wet hand onto Rikki’s arm.

“Emma Gilbert!” Rikki says in a scandalized tone. She pulls herself up onto the lip of the hot tub just in time to join Emma.

Emma has time to regret her decision to get back at Rikki as she falls in slow-motion, landing with a second, smaller wave in Emma’s lap.

They’re closer than they’ve been all weekend.

Rikki’s pressed close to her body, all the way up, her skin warmer than Emma’s, burning into her. She tries not to let her hammering heartbeat show on her face. She doesn’t know if it’s working. Rikki’s so close to her collarbone that she can hear it, maybe.

Emma’s not thinking about the party, anymore, or anything from before. All she can think about the expanse of Rikki’s stomach, next to her, the intimate brushing of their chests, the droplets of water on her cheek.

“It’s cold!” Rikki yelps.

Emma sighs, shaky. “It’s not turned on. You have to let it heat up.”

“Ugh,” Rikki says, rolling so that she’s staring up at the dark blue tapestry of the night sky, tail flicking out of the water. It puts a little more distance between them and Emma breathes slightly easier. “Or…” Rikki stretches her hand out and slowly closes it into a fist. First nothing happens, but then a faint waft of steam becomes apparent as the water heats up to a pleasant temperature. “Perfect,” she says, and she’s looking at Emma.

“We should go clean up,” Emma says. She can’t help but think about all the mess that’s probably in her lounge, about the close call they had inside, all because of this chaotic party.

“I thought you were going with the flow,” Rikki retorts. She swirls a hand through the water and heats it up another degree. It’s nice.

“Look where that got me,” Emma says, gesturing inside. It will definitely be a mess in there. Popcorn and chips and fizzy everywhere. “I bet someone spilled Fanta on the rug or something.”

“Not Fanta,” Rikki says, mockingly.

“It’s a very hard stain to get out!” Emma says, crossing her arms.

Rikki just laughs at her.

“This really is all just a joke to you, isn’t it?”

“What? It’s just funny. You think you’re some kind of rebel and all you can do is worry about whether someone spilled fizzy drink on your mum’s carpet.”

“Ugh!” Emma flicks her tail in frustration, and water sloshes over the deck. “Why do you even care? I get it. You think I’m just some uptight, perfectionist bitch! Why did you even come over, this weekend, then?” She stops, breathing fast, refusing to look at Rikki.

“Whoa, Emma, I really didn’t mean—” Rikki reaches towards her, across the swirling steam of the spa, and Emma turns a ferocious glare on her, mouth twisted up.

“You don’t know me at all,” Emma spits at her.

“I was just teasing!” Rikki says. “You have to admit, you can be kind of uptight.”

Emma squeezes her fist in desperation, chilling the water so fast that Rikki gasps and pulls away. Then she closes the distance between them. “How’s this for uptight?” she hisses.

She grabs Rikki’s face and kisses her.

Rikki doesn’t move for a long second, and Emma is horrified at what she’s done. Then Rikki’s lips move, slightly, softly, against hers, and she’s not horrified but she is terrified, and she likes it.

She freezes.

Rikki pulls her head away and smirks at her. “Right,” she says, the word weighty between them, and Emma turns away, crossing her arms. “Hey,” she continues, putting a hand on Emma’s arm, and Emma jerks away. “Em.”

Emma wishes she had Cleo’s water moving powers right now because she needs to escape and she can’t very well freeze her way out of this.

She pulls herself up onto the edge of the hot tub, tail flicking out onto the side.

She has to get away.

It’s out there. It’s all out there and she can’t take it back and Rikki knows both of her secrets.

She looks over the deck, towards the jetty, and she seizes on the fact that it’s actually not that far away. She levers herself in that direction and Rikki says, “Emma, stop,” again.

Emma ignores her.

“Emma, whatever you’re trying to do, just stop!” Rikki chases after her and catches her arm. “Can you… chill out?”

“No!” Emma half-shouts. Look what happened when she chilled out. She ruined everything.

“I’m— ugh.” Rikki lets out an annoyed grunt and then all the water is steaming off around Emma, until her tail’s gone. Rikki stands beside her, also tailless now. “Em—”

Emma doesn’t wait to see what Rikki tries to convince her to do next. She slips around the hot tub, down the stairs, and takes a running leap off the jetty, into the water with a splash. With barely a moment’s pause, she’s swimming towards Mako Island, tail rippling through the water.

She hates how easy it feels, like the water is urging her on, her tail ten, twenty times as powerful as her feet ever would be.

She wants it to be hard.

She wants it to hurt.

She surfaces with a gasp in the moon pool, eyes stinging a little.

She has the foolish, naive hope that Rikki won’t follow her. She doesn’t know what she wants. It felt good to finally act on this thing that’s been inside her for so long. It’s out there now. It’s out there and she can’t take it back.

She puts her hands over her face.

Would she do things differently?

If she could go back to that first day?

Would she say no to Rikki?

Would she stay out of the moon pool?

She stares up at the sky through the jagged hole in the rock and, as if on cue, the water swirls and Rikki’s head pops up.

Emma turns away from her.

Rikki lets the silence stretch between them for a minute before she breaks it. “You always come here when you want to be alone.”

“So leave me alone.”

“Emma. I liked it.”

“What?” Emma says.

Rikki sighs. “You. I like you and I like your rebellious side and I liked you kissing me.”

Emma stills, then slowly looks back at Rikki. She looks almost uncertain, right now, in the rippling shadows of the moon pool.

“But you’re right. I’m not rebellious,” Emma says.

“And you were right too,” Rikki says, smiling a little. “Kissing me was pretty rebellious.”

Emma allows herself a smile. “I suppose it wasn’t so bad.”

“We should do it again, then,” Rikki says, and moves just a tiny bit closer to Emma.

Emma holds her breath for a second, then leans in and kisses her again. This time Rikki’s lips move in perfect tandem with hers, and she brings a hand to Rikki’s shoulder, then pulls her in slightly. Rikki opens her mouth slightly, and Emma does too, her whole body fizzing with the newness of it.

After the longest minute of Emma’s life, they separate, and Emma sighs softly.

“We should get back and clean up,” she says, resignedly.

“I thought you were a rebel,” Rikki says, mouth quirked into a half-smile.

“I accept it,” Emma says, throwing her hands up. “I’m not a rebel. Except for you.”

Rikki laughs at that, and grabs Emma’s hands to pull her closer, and kisses her again.

“Seriously though, what if my parents come home early?” Emma says.

“Fine, fine,” Rikki says teasingly. “Let’s go clean up our wild party.”

---

It’s not actually that bad. Some fizzy spilled in the kitchen, chip crumbs on the couch. A ring from a Coke can on the coffee table. Emma buffs it out with some baking soda while Rikki picks up rubbish.

“All done,” Emma declares, wiping the baking soda off and giving the table a once-over.

“Thank god,” Rikki says drily. “World War Three averted.”

“My parents like order!” Emma says. She gets the vacuum cleaner out and starts on the living room.

She’s just about done when she hears her parents’ car pull into the driveway.

The timing could not have been more perfect.

Rikki’s just thrown the last bag of rubbish into the bin; Emma’s done enough that she can put the vacuum cleaner away and the house looks essentially presentable.

Rikki winks at her as she slips back in the sliding door. Emma grins at her.

Emma’s mum opens the door, a huge box labeled Casa Crystal in her arms. “Hi, Emma, Rikki. I hope you girls haven’t been throwing any crazy parties!”

“Of course not, Mrs. Gilbert,” Rikki says, stepping closer and linking her arm through Emma’s. “Emma’s a good girl.”