For this section of the test you may use a calculator,” the SAT administrator explains, reading from the script she has to recite before each part of the test.
I reach down into my bag and pull out Shannen’s birthday present. As the administrator drones on, thoughts of Quince and Tellin and Doe and Brody and my future and my past keep trying to push their way into my brain, but I shove them away. I have to. When the test is over, I can soak in my worries. Until then, I need to maintain my focus. Whatever the future brings, I want to have choices. Can’t have choices on land without college.
“You may open your test booklet to the math section. You have twenty-five minutes to complete this section. You may begin.”
Forcing all thoughts beyond the world contained in the packet of papers before me to disappear, I tell myself I exist only for math. Groan. But every time I start to read a question, it’s like the words begin to swim around. It takes me a few questions to realize it’s because my eyes are swimming with tears. How am I ever going to do decently on the test if I can’t even read the questions?
When the administrator instructs us to put our pencils down almost half an hour later, I’ve managed to finish almost all of the questions. I have serious doubts that I even read them correctly, let alone answered them with any degree of success. And to be honest, I don’t really care. In the scale of things, my fight with Quince—one that might not be easily resolved—seems far more important than a single test. There will be other tests. There can never be another Quince.
After two breaks and another three equally incomplete test sections, the administrator finally announces that the test is over.
Cheers go up around the room, but all I can do is slump my shoulders—in relief and in anticipation of what I have to face beyond the cafeteria doors.
Shannen is waiting for me in the parking lot when I step out into the bright sun. Yesterday’s rain is gone without a trace. Since I haven’t magically learned how to drive overnight, she brought me to school early this morning and promised to pick me up after.
“So . . . ,” she says. “How’d it go?”
“Froggin’ crabtastic,” I answer with a shrug.
“I’m sure you did fine.” She slides into the driver’s seat and starts the car. “Should we go celebrate?”
As if I’m in the mood to celebrate anything. I’m not even in the mood to talk. I just want to go home and see if Quince is there so we can work through this. I have to believe that we can. The alternative is unacceptable.
But I have an unavoidable responsibility to take care of first.
I shake my head as I drop into the passenger seat. “Can’t.”
“Plans?”
I heave a sigh at the thought of what I have to do. It’s not the most important thing to me at the moment, but it’s time sensitive.
“Tonight is the new moon,” I explain. “If I don’t separate Doe and Brody before moonrise, their bond will become permanent.”
A permanently bonded Doe and Brody couldn’t be good for anyone.
“How do you do that?” Shannen asks. “Separate them, I mean.”
“Daddy gave me the power to perform the ritual.” I tug at the seat belt where it rubs against my neck. “All I have to do is say the magic words and get the happy couple to sign the separation papers.”
“No big, then.”
“Nope,” I agree. “No big.”
As we drive the few blocks from school to my house in silence, I keep thinking about the next thing on my list of worries. Making up with Quince. This isn’t our first fight—heck, we’ve been fighting since long before we started going out—but this one feels more real. More significant. I don’t want it to linger any longer than necessary.
“How about lunch tomorrow?” Shannen asks, pulling her car to a stop at the end of my sidewalk. “Before you head home for your birthday celebration.”
“Sure,” I say, unbuckling and opening the door. “Sounds great.”
“I’ll come by around one to pick you up.”
“Perfect.”
I wave good-bye as Shannen pulls away from the curb.
When I push open the kitchen door, the house is eerily quiet. With four people living in our house right now, there’s usually at least some sign of another occupant.
“Aunt Rachel?” I call out. “Doe? Tellin?” When I get no response, I wonder if every living creature in the house has disappeared. “Prithi?”
At that I get a reassuring meow.
There are no signs of life in the kitchen, so I head into the living room. It looks more deserted than usual. Not that Tellin brought any belongings with him, but it feels like he’s moved out. My suspicion is confirmed when I read the note he left on the coffee table.
See you at your birthday ball.
Well, that’s one worry off my shoulders for the moment.
Next I head upstairs to hunt for Doe. She must know that we have to perform the separation tonight, so why would she disappear like this? Clearly she has, though. She’s not anywhere in the house, as evidenced by the fact that Prithi is trailing my every step.
It’s late afternoon already. In a few hours it will be too late.
I grab the upstairs phone—the one I’m usually dropping in the bathwater—and dial Brody’s home number.
“This is Lily Sanderson,” I say when his mom answers the phone. “Is Brody home?”
“No, dear,” she says. “I think he went out with your cousin.”
“Did he say where?”
“Not specifically,” she says, “but he took towels and his swim trunks. Maybe the pool?”
Unlikely. Doe shares my merfolk allergy to chlorine. My guess is they’ve headed to the beach. Why, I don’t know, because it’s not like Doe can follow him under the ocean. But it’s salt water. And they both see it as home.
“Okay, I’ll try there,” I tell Mrs. Bennett. “Thanks.”
Great. Now I have to find a way to the beach. I guess that makes this as good a time as ever to talk with Quince—to make up and to get transportation. I grab the separation papers from my room and shove them into my back pocket before heading out. As I crunch across the gravel driveway separating our houses, I mentally compose what I’ll say to him. “I’m sorry. I should have told you. But it’s my decision and I love you. I could never leave.”
By the time I stomp up his front steps I think I’ve got my speech set. I knock on the big white door and wait. As the door swings open, I paste an apologetic smile on my face and start to say, “I’m s—”
“Hello, Lily,” Quince’s mom says.
“Mrs. Fletcher?” I guess I’m just surprised to find her answering the door. It seems like she’s always at work or sleeping—she pulls the night shift at the factory, so she sleeps during the day.
“Janet,” she says, offering me a haggard smile. “Please, call me Janet.”
I nod, but can’t bring myself to call her by her first name. “Is Quince home?”
Her thin, aged-beyond-her-years face transforms into a frown. “He didn’t tell you?”
A bad feeling thumps into my stomach like a punch in the gut. “Tell me what?”
“He left.” She braces an arm against the doorjamb, as if she needs the support. “Took off up the coast last night.” She shakes her head sadly. “Probably to visit his father.”
“Oh.” That’s all I can manage to say around the tear-clogged lump in my throat.
“I thought he would have told you.”
My eyes are watering faster than I can blink the tears away. “We’re kind of having a fight,” I explain. “I didn’t tell him something and he . . . he’s pretty angry.”
“You weren’t—” She pauses, like she has to figure out the best way to say something. “Unfaithful?”
“No!” I hurry to explain. “Nothing like that. Never.”
“Then you shouldn’t worry.” Her haggard face softens as she smiles. “My son may have a hot temper from time to time, but if you haven’t violated his code of loyalty, then everything will be fine once he cools off.”
“I hope so.” I’m not so sure, but I definitely hope so.
“He loves you,” she says plainly. “For him, that’s everything.”
I don’t have any choice but to believe her. That’s how I feel, too, so I have to believe that’s how Quince feels. Besides, it’s not like I can go after him. I have to find a way to get to Doe and Brody first.
Quince and I can sort things out later. I hope.
If only I could convince myself that my lie of omission wasn’t a violation of his code of loyalty, as his mom put it. Maybe it was more of a betrayal than he can forgive.
“Mrs. Fletcher—” At her frown, I amend, “Janet. Do you think you could give me a ride somewhere?”
“Sure, honey.” She reaches back inside and grabs her purse off the floor. “Where do you need to go?”
“Thanks Mrs. Fle—uh, Janet.” I wave as Quince’s mom pulls out of the Seaview Beach parking lot.
Turning to face the beach, I search out my catch. Brody’s Camaro is parked in the corner of the lot, so I know they’re here. I scan the sand. There is a family with small children picnicking down the beach to the south and a pair of joggers heading north along the surf line. No sign of Doe or Brody.
On a hunch, I head toward the pier.
As my feet squish through the sand, I think about what Quince’s mom said. That love is everything to him. That he’ll forgive my lie of omission.
But what if she’s wrong? What if he thinks I’m untrustworthy and he can never believe in me again? What if, even if we get back together, he always wonders if there’s something I’m not telling him? What if he is racked with doubts and suspicions every time I head home for a weekend? He can’t go with me, so he’ll never be able to see for himself.
By the time I’ve reached the spot where the ocean meets the pier, I’m practically in tears again. I just wish Quince was here so we could talk this out. Whenever I think through things in my head, they always go a little out of control.
“Lily?”
I snap out of my mental whirlpool at the sound of Doe’s voice.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
Sinking shoulder deep in the water, still fully clothed, I finally see her and Brody tucked behind a pylon halfway down the pier.
“What am I doing here?” I echo, shaking myself back into the moment. “I’m here to perform the separation. In case you forgot, the bond will become permanent with tonight’s new moon.”
“I—” Her piercing blue gaze flicks to Brody and then back to me. “I didn’t forget.”
“Then why did you disappear?” I ask, rolling my eyes.
Sometimes, I swear, it’s like she’s turned off her capacity for rational thought. First the trident incident, then bonding with Brody in the first place, and now this. I wish she would grow up already and stop leaving her problems on my doorstep.
I swim over to their spot and pull the separation papers out of my back pocket. Thankfully they’re on kelpaper or they’d be ruined by the salt water now soaking my capris. “Let’s get this over with.”
Neither of them says a word.
With my toes just reaching the sand below, I find the page with the words of the ritual written in Daddy’s scrawling script.
My eyes scan over the page until I find the spot where I’m supposed to begin. I only have to blink away my tears twice to read the words on the pages.
“A mistake was made,” I begin. “Now let the bond fade. These two once united shall soon be div—”
“Don’t.”
Doe’s soft whisper stops me cold. I don’t think a shout would have startled me nearly as much as that quiet plea. It might be the first truly serious thing Doe has ever said to me. And the emotion filling her eyes is all the explanation I need. I know all about that emotion.
But she has to say it. Out loud.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because . . .” She closes her eyes and—I can see beneath the water—clutches Brody’s hand. “I love him.”
She means it. I don’t know how I can know for certain, except that everything I see in her eyes is what I feel when I look at Quince.
“You know what this means?” I ask. Both of them.
“Yes,” Doe says quickly. “I’ve explained everything. Everything.”
“And you’re okay with this?” I ask Brody.
He gives Doe an equally emotional look. “I am.”
“We’ve talked it out,” Doe explains. “I’ll stay on land until after graduation. Then we can spend the summer in Thalassinia. When Brody starts college, we’ll go home on breaks and holidays.”
“You’re willing to give up your swimming?” This has to be the hardest part about Brody’s decision. “You know chlorine will start to be toxic to you as soon as you turn.”
“I do.” His golden brown gaze doesn’t waver from mine. “Doe says I’ll be able to tolerate it long enough to swim at State.”
I nod. None of the mer changes are instantaneous. Most are a gradual progression, so it’s not likely that chlorine will kill him if he races in the next few weeks. “That’s probably true.”
“That’s enough for me,” he says. “Swimming is for now, Doe is forever.”
My tears well again at the certainty in his voice. They really have talked this through.
And if Doe is willing to spend that much time on land to be with the boy she loves . . . well, then, she must be over her hate for humans, too. I guess this is the best possible outcome for everybody. Doe isn’t going to try to wipe out the East Coast again. Brody gets to spend time in an underwater kingdom. And Doe has found her perfect mer mate.
But if things are so froggin’ awesome, then why do I feel like bawling?
“Are you okay, Lil?” Brody asks.
“Is it so bad?” Doe asks, her voice full of tears. “Seeing me happy with the boy you used to love?”
“No,” I sob.
“Used to love?” he asks, teasing me like the same old Brody as always. “Lil never really loved me.”
“She thought she did,” Doe says. And, as mortifying as that should be, I don’t think she said it to be mean.
“But you’re happy with Fletcher, right?” Brody asks. “You’re not still—”
“I’m not,” I interrupt. “I’m way over you. It’s just that—” Sniff, sob. “I’m so happy for you.”
Since I finished that on a wail, I’m not sure they exactly believe me. In an instant I’m wrapped in a group hug.
“What happened?” Doe asks. “Is this about Tellin’s toast?”
I nod, incapable of speech. She’s more insightful than I gave her credit for.
A long silence passes around me.
“Tell her,” Brody says. “She needs to know.”
The hug breaks up, and Doe turns me to face her. There’s more of that newfound seriousness in her eyes.
“Lily, there’s something you should know about Tellin.” She swallows, as if sucking up her courage. “Over the past few years, he and I became friends.”
Okay. Not completely out of the realm of possibility.
“When you made the decision to give up your crown, I went to him. I thought you were making a huge mistake, and that Thalassinia would pay the price for your selfish choice.” She rolls her eyes as if she can’t believe what she’s about to say. “I thought we needed you as our queen.”
“Really? You think so?” I ask, shocked by her confidence in me. Since she’s never shown me anything other than contempt and disregard, I’m a little stunned by her confession. When she throws me a look, I quickly get back on track. “What does that have to do with Tellin?”
“He feels the same way,” Doe continues. “That without you as heir to the throne, Thalassinia and all her sister kingdoms will suffer.”
“I’m thrilled by your faith in me,” I say, annoyed that she seems to be swimming around the point, “but what does that have to do with anything?”
“We formed a plan,” she says. “One that would force you to go home before your birthday. Where you could run into Tellin and he could make his proposal.”
You know that sinking feeling I’ve been getting in my stomach a lot lately? I’m getting it again. Triple time.
“What kind of plan?”
“The tsunami and the bond with Brody.” She closes her eyes, like she’s afraid of my reaction. “They were a plot to put you back in Tellin’s path.”
“A what?” This doesn’t make any sense. “Why? I don’t understand.”
“Lily,” Doe says, sounding exasperated, “I got exiled on purpose.”
“On purpose?” I shake my head. “Why would you do that?”
“Partly because it gave me a taste of revenge on humans. But also so I could bond with some unsuspecting boy.” She jerks her head at Brody. “So you would have to take him home for the separation.”
“All of that,” I ask, “just to force a chance run-in with Tellin?”
“I didn’t say it was a brilliant plan,” she says, blinking. “Besides, it worked, didn’t it?”
Of all the stupid, idiotic, imprudent—see, I have learned my SAT vocabulary—ill-conceived plans in the history of the mer world, this has got to be in the top ten.
Still confused, I ask, “Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because I fell in love,” she explains, floating up against Brody’s side. “And because you’re in love, too. Now I know what you’d be giving up to bond with Tellin.” She seems to draw in on herself. “I would never wish that on you. I’m sorry.”
I still don’t think I fully understand. But this is a whole new Dosinia before me. One with the kind of maturity I’d always hoped to see in her.
If I weren’t so angry about her irresponsible plotting and what it might have cost me—what it might still cost me—I would actually hug her for growing up. The waters might have been a little rough along the way, but what matters most is that she got there in the end. She apologized—can you say shock?—she accepted responsibility, and she’s in love with a human. That’s one part of my current dilemma solved.
Now if only Quince would come home so we could talk things out. Then life would be back to pretty darn near perfect.