"So, normal people aren't sitting on a surfboard in the pool on Christmas," said Arla, which was her way of saying that Ferris was in her territory and she would greatly appreciate it if he backed up off her grill.
She eyed him carefully, and then she was slowly reaching for her bottle of gin. Hn. New kid. Ferris. Did she know that name? "Are you the water-mutant?" she asked, turning her attention back to him with a critical, clinical state of interest.