Mermaids And The Vampires Who Love Them

1. MY LIFE IS RUINED! THANKS MOM & DAD!

"You seem upset. Did Finn not ask you to the Boardwalk Boogie tonight?" Mom said, changing the subject.

"Mom, no. Ew! He's Carla's brother. I don't like him that way." (I was totally lying. There is simply no good way to convey to my best friend that I have a crush on her brother, so I certainly wouldn't tell my mother. Also, Finn has no idea. I'm more the pine-in-isolation type.)

"Sure," Mom said, narrowing her rainbow eyes.

(Note to self: must work on my deception skills.) "Mom, what is it? I can tell you're trying to avoid telling me something. Did my report card come in? Because I can explain."

Mom pursed her lips. "I have some fantastic news."

Eels meals! I knew this had to be bad. Parent-speak for 'fantastic news' translated to: I'm about to ruin your life. "What?"

"Your father has a new job opportunity up north. We're moving!"

I grinned. "Good one, Mom."

"Good what?"

"Joke."

"Angelfish, I am not joking. We leave tomorrow. It's a new, experimental, cross-cultural school up the coast called West Marin Heights. You'll love it."

"But Mom!" I said. "I can't go."

"Waverly Marie Fishwater," my mom snapped. "Your father cannot give up this opportunity. We are moving north, and you will like it." She brushed my floating green hair away from my shoulders and kissed my forehead. "You'll be fine, honey." Her telepathic voice softened. "Everyone loves you. You'll make new friends."

(Yeah, Mom thinks she can say something like this, and it will automatically come true. She is part fairy, but she doesn't practice her skills much, so usually, she predicts stuff that doesn't happen. She's a lazy prognosticator.) "You don't understand. You're ruining my life."

(It's totally unfair. I'm the only one of the Fishwater fingerlings* that has to move. My siblings have their own grown-up lives in college or their own fingerlings.)

"Pack your shells and bikini tops. We swim at sunrise tomorrow. Say goodbye to your friends. You can see them next summer," she said brightly. She flipped around gracefully with a little flick of her tail and left my room.

So, now I'm swimming over to Carla Reefcraft's place to break the news. Carla and I have been best friends since we were six. Carla will be devastated. Why does this make me feel better? I am a terrible mermaid.

On my way to Carla's, I pass through a field of kelp that undulates against my scales in the current and watch as thousands of fish dart through pursuing their dinner, swimming from hungry predators, or searching for mates. An orange-red rock crab scuttles sideways down a vertical slab of nearly black granite, and a speckled skate emerges like a phantom from beneath the sand.

The water in the Reefcraft's lagoon is warmer than in our place. They are a wealthy family. Mrs. Reefcraft has a mermaid scalecare line (saltwater wreaks havoc on the scales), and Mr. Reefcraft plays golf all day with humans. Oh, I don't think I mentioned, when we're not in the water we sprout legs and look pretty much human except for our opalescent green hair and rainbow-colored eyes. We have wigs and contacts so we can blend pretty well when we need to. Humans smell bad, though, like sun-baked algae.

"Hey, Wave. Wassup?" Carla asks, swimming out of her luxurious cave. Her hair is braided in an intricate design that makes it look like she's wearing an oversized tiara. "I wasn't expecting you yet. You're not even dressed for the Boardwalk Boogie. But that's okay; I have a new shell-bra that'll look so cute on you! Wait, is something wrong?"