“Because,” Quince says, leaning forward until I step back, “he’s a little boy who doesn’t like other people playing with his toys.”

“His toys?” I gasp. I’ve never wanted to slap someone more in my life. “How dare you? I’m not his toy!”

Quince snorts. “You might as well have been. And now that I’m on the playing field, he has to up his participation in the game so he doesn’t lose you to me.”

“Lose me to—” I feel my fragile control dissolving and clench my fists to stem the tide of fury. I might need an extra-long bath tonight to ease away all this anger. “You think this is about you? I never knew you were so self-centered. You’re just jealous.”

He doesn’t deny my claim. He doesn’t say anything at all as he stares down at me with a kind of questioning look in his eyes. Then, when I almost can’t stand it anymore, he finally says, “He’ll never accept you. Not after you tell him the truth.”

“You’re wrong,” I insist, keeping my voice low so no one overhears. “He will. When he learns that I belong in the water just like he does.”

“God,” Quince roars, “you are so delusional! He’s a shallow, small-minded, popularity-obsessed jackass who will see you as a freak rather than a treasure.”

I feel every derogatory word as a slap in the face.

“You’re wrong,” I repeat through clenched teeth, as much for myself as for Quince. “He has depths you could never imagine. As soon as I tell him, we’ll—”

“Why haven’t you?”

I blink at his interruption. “What?”

“Why haven’t you told him already?” He steps back, finally giving me some breathing room, and slips his hands into his back pockets. “If you’ve loved him so goddamn much for the last three years, why haven’t you told him?”

“Because I—”

“Because you know the truth,” he says, again not letting me finish. “You haven’t told him—about yourself or your feelings—because deep in your soul you know that it will mean the end of your fantasy.”

He turns to walk away, out of the classroom and into the hall, but the fury welling up in me at his ridiculous statement bursts out. “You’ll see! I’m going to tell him and he’ll fall head over heels and we’ll be bonded before Daddy can finish the last line of the separation ritual!”

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t look back, just waves his hand back over his shoulder and says, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Aaargh! He makes me so flip-flopping furious. I’ll show him. I’ll tell Brody and he’ll think it’s the coolest thing ever, and he’ll confess to secret feelings for me, too. I’ll be done with Quince and ready to move on with my future. With Brody. In Thalassinia.

I’ll tell him. After the city championship on Thursday night.

What could be more perfect?

21

The week that I thought would drag on forever—like the time Peri and I sat outside Daddy’s office waiting for our punishment for sneaking away to spend a day on Paradise Island—actually races by faster than I could imagine. Before I know it, I’m sitting on the bleachers in the natatorium, swim-team record book open across my lap, watching Brody swim for the city championship.

I’m still committed to the idea of telling Brody, as the adrenaline racing through my veins can attest. I’m both terrified and thrilled and, to be honest, totally nauseous. But there’s no time like the present, and—not that I’d admit this to him—Quince was right. I’ve put off going after my dream for too long.

“You seem kinda stressed,” Shannen says. “Something wrong?”

Unable to look away from the pool, I start to say, “No, I—” But something stops me. I’m about to tell Brody the whole truth, but what about Shannen? She’s my best human friend. It feels kind of wrong to tell Brody when she doesn’t know. If I can’t tell my best friend, then how on earth can I tell my future mermate?

Besides, it’ll be good practice.

Handing the record book over to the freshman towel girl, I stand. “Can we talk outside for a second?”

Shannen looks confused but follows me with a shrug. We slip out the back door—passing by Quince, who’s busy skulking in the back row of the bleachers—to the steps overlooking the parking lot. The night air is cool with the ocean breeze whistling through the palm fronds above.

I take a deep, calming breath.

“Shannen, I have something to tell you.” I step down into the parking lot, wrapping my arms tightly around my waist so I won’t spend the entire confession fidgeting. Shannen sinks onto the bottom step, and I walk over and sit next to her so I can whisper. “This is something I’ve never told another soul.” Then I have a mental wince. “Except Quince.”

But that almost doesn’t count, because I didn’t really have a choice.

“Okay…” She sounds a little dubious, like maybe I’m too much of an open book to have any juicy secrets.

Boy, will she be surprised.

“Before I came to Seaview,” I explain, squeezing my arms tighter around my waist, “I didn’t live in Fort Lauderdale.”

Aunt Rachel and I came up with that cover story when I first moved in with her. We thought it would be easier to use something as close to the truth as possible—and we couldn’t just say Daddy was dead, because, well, first of all, that just feels wrong, but also because I might let it slip that I was going to visit him or something, and that would be really awkward to explain.