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changed now that we’re older. Sure, it was kind of strange when his voice dropped and he packed on the musculature of a pro-athlete (he does more laps a day than an Olympic swimmer), but he’s still the same Caspian who helped me bury my tail in the sand and molded me a pair of legs when we were six. The same sandy blond hair that falls into the same knowing, ocean blue eyes.
    Those eyes grow haunted as we swim past a couple old biddies who are so caught up in their own blather they don’t see us. I tune into their conversation the instant they mention Caspian’s father.
    “It’s no wonder Sir Zayle isn’t here. He and his wife never dare show their faces at events like these.”
    “But, Gretchen, I’ve heard they dine with the Nautilus family in private.”
    “I hope not. It’s bad enough their son is here. Sure, he seems like a fine lad now, but I’m telling you, you have one bad clam in a family, and sooner or later, there’s bound to be another.”
    The protective best friend part of me wants to spin around and tell those Merwitches exactly what they can do with their cruel gossip. I want to shake them by the shoulders and scream that it’s not Caspian’s fault there was a siren in his family. But causing a scene would make him more uncomfortable. So instead, I use all my self-control to keep my mouth shut as I lead him far away from them and toward the extravagant buffet.
    “Casp, they have no idea—”
    “It’s fine, Lia. I’m fine.”
    It’s so unfair. Sure, next to murder, sireny is the highest crime known to Mer—and for good reason. A siren song is a spell that steals away the free will of a human and forces him to do anything the siren commands. I get shivers just thinking about it. But Caspian shouldn’t be blamed for something his great-great-aunt did.
    Carrying plates brimming with halibut skewers topped in a spicy dulse seaweed sauce, we make our way to one of the quartz-encrusted tables that line the ballroom’s perimeter.
    “So, tell me about school,” I say in an attempt to make him forget the callous words.
    “School’s good.” He pauses, wiping his mouth on his napkin. Caspian’s parents aren’t as progressive as mine and don’t want him to lose touch with his culture, so they’ve enrolled him in the all-Mer high school set up by the Foundation. “There’s a dance next Friday.”
    “Ooo! Who are you taking?” I poke him in the chest when he doesn’t answer right away. “Who? You can tell me.”
    “I don’t know yet.” With his broad build and strong jaw, Caspian looks like the catch of the day, every day, and—even despite his family name—he could probably have any girl he wanted if he put himself out there. But he’s always been the quiet type.
    “You have to take someone. Do it for my sake! I’m surrounded by humans at school, so everyone’s off-limits.”
    “But there’s someone you’d want to date if there were no restrictions?” His eyes turn intensely quizzical.
    I laugh it off. “No, no. That’s not what I meant. It just must be nice for you to be yourself at school and date whoever you want.”
    “Not whoever I want,” he mumbles.
    “Sure. Pick a Mermaid you like, go up to her, and be your honest, straightforward self. Girls like that.”
    “I thought girls like the cocky, bad boy types.”
    My mind flashes to Clay in his butter-soft leather jacket and trademark smirk. “Girls just like to feel wanted,” I insist. “So, you go up to a Mermaid and tell her that she’s, I don’t know, made an impression on you and you’d like to take her to the dance.” Yep, I’m great at giving dating advice as long as I don’t have to follow it.
    “You’ve made an impression on me and I’d like to take you to the dance,” Caspian says.
    “Yeah, just like that.”
    He opens his mouth to continue, but the conch horn blares and everyone turns their attention to where my mother has taken her place at the front of the room. “Maids and Men, I’d