I give her a quick rundown of what I know—which isn’t much, I guess, but I’l know more after I study the website and then meet with the director next Saturday. “I might be able to get a scholarship, too,” I add. “Which would be nice, since my grades are garbage and my SAT scores aren’t going to be much better.”
“You’re working on that,” Aunt Rachel says. “Between your test-prep classes and your extra study hours with Shannen, I’m sure you’l do far better than you expect.” I hope so.
After I decided to come back to Seaview, to pursue a life on land, I met with the school counselor for the first time.
She pul ed up my records, read through my grades, and then gave me a very concerned look. With a GPA in the barely 2.0 range, she’d explained, I would have to do extremely wel on the SATs or ACT to get into col ege.
Tests are not my best stroke. I’m far better in the water than I’l ever be in front of a book. But if I want to be anything more than a janitor at the aquarium, then I need col ege. My life on land needs to be at least as meaningful as my life as queen would have been. I don’t think I’d make a great leader, but I do think I could make a decent marine biologist. I know the oceans better than any human, and I am personal y invested in protecting and preserving them. If I can make the waters better and safer for my merkin, then my life on land wil have served a valuable purpose. What more could a soon-to-be-former princess want?
A sharp knock on the kitchen door washes away my thoughts. I jump up, thril ed. Quince!
Prithi chases after me, batting at my bare feet.
It’s not until I’m pul ing the door open that I wonder why Quince is knocking when he usual y just walks right in. The huge smile on my face disappears as soon as I see who’s standing on the other side.
Chapter 2
hat are you doing here?” I demand.
“W “Nice to see you too, Lily,” Dosinia says. “Miss me?”
Not hardly.
First of al , I left Thalassinia only a few days ago. I haven’t had time to miss anyone.
Second of al , my bratty baby cousin hates me and is general y horrid whenever we’re in the same place at the same time. Even if I’d been gone a decade, I couldn’t miss her. That would imply I actual y like being with her. Very much not the case.
“Why are you here, Doe?” I repeat, not bothering to hide the irritation in my voice.
It’s not a complete and utter shock to find a merperson on land. They don’t show up at my door, though, because of my royal status. They don’t want to impose. But many merfolk visit the mainland occasional y—some frequently.
Doe is not among them. Even if she didn’t despise me, she usual y wouldn’t step out of the sea to save her best friend.
She has a serious hate on for humans and avoids them like last week’s red tide. Which makes the fact that she’s standing on Aunt Rachel’s back porch more than a little suspect.
“I thought for sure Uncle Whelk would send a note,” she singsongs with fake sincerity. Pul ing a square of pink kelpaper from her cleavage, she says, “Ooopsy. Guess I intercepted the messenger gul .”
Pink kelpaper means it’s a private message and the gul should deliver it only to the intended recipient—me. Leave it to Doe to get it anyway.
Jaw clenched, I snatch the note from her sparkly fingertips.
“Daddy wil be pissed when he finds out you did that,” I say, angry but secretly pleased to know she’l be getting into trouble for this stunt.
“Not any more than usual,” she replies casual y.
Prithi, apparently thril ed to realize I am not the only fishlike girl in the world, darts between my legs and begins rubbing her head against Doe’s ankle. Doe glares at the cat and then rol s her eyes, as if deciding the creature is beneath her concern.
Like I said, Doe’s not exactly a fan of land dwel ers.
Guess cats make the list, too.
Ah-hem. A discreet cough from behind me in the kitchen reminds me that Doe and I are not the only ones present.
“Lily,” Aunt Rachel says, “won’t you introduce me to your friend?”
I almost blurt, “She is not my friend.” But that’s not fair.
Aunt Rachel’s never met Doe. In fact, she’s never met any merfolk besides me and Daddy. Wel , at least not knowingly. When merpeople are in terraped—human—
form, the only thing that distinguishes them as children of the sea is the mer mark on the back of the neck. And even that can look like an ordinary tattoo if you don’t know what you’re looking for.
Anyway, a decade and a half of royal training sends me into social autopilot. I turn and smile.
“Aunt Rachel, this is my cousin Dosinia.” Jaw clenched, I meet Doe’s scornful glare head on. “Doe, this is my mom’s sister, Rachel.”
For an instant, an emotion flickers in her eyes. If I were looking at anyone but Doe, I’d say it was sympathy, compassion. But it is Doe, so it was probably just a speck of dust.
I sense Aunt Rachel moving up next to me. “We were just finishing dinner,” she says to Doe, “but I’m sure we can find you something. I think I have a frozen pizza hidden away for just such an occasion. And there are a few breadsticks left from our takeout.”
My breadsticks, I want to shout.
Not that Doe seems interested. The look that passes over her face as she takes in the remains of our dinner on the kitchen table is pure revulsion. I’l admit it took me a while to get used to human food. For my first few months on land, I survived on mediocre sushi and fresh produce. It was at least a year before I had the courage to try pasta. Now I love it.