And then I see her, and I stop dead, suspended in the liquid stillness of the water.

The mermaid's long blond hair flows and curls around the luminous curves of her body as she swims, inches above the sparkling ocean floor. I stay still, afraid that if I move, she'll disappear. Her movements are fluid and strong as she hovers over the sand, pausing briefly at a large rock before moving on. Without thinking about it, I know she's searching for something, though I'm not sure what it is. I want to help her find it, so I bring my feet together and give a tentative kick, disturbing the stillness of the water.

She freezes, startled, then turns and fixes her sad green eyes on me. Her face is distressed at first, but softens when our eyes meet. There is a pang in my chest, somewhere between deep sorrow and shining hope.

My mother.

And then, as if the same realization hits her, she shoots upward, toward the surface, leaving me behind in a dark whirl of tiny bubbles.

I am paralyzed at the bottom of the ocean as the last of the bubbles swirl up and then disappear into the blue above me. I sink down onto the sand, alone and suddenly cold. I am there only a moment before I have the sensation that it is raining underwater. Something lands beside my foot, creating a tiny, momentary puff of sand.

I lift my chin slowly, and the coldness that I feel gives way to silent wonder. All around me gleaming drops of color make their way down through the fluid smoothness. They move in slow motion, spiraling down, catching and throwing light as they descend. I reach out my hand to catch a cobalt drop, and as it slips between my fingers, I recognize its smooth, solid surface.

At that moment I am conscious of the sound that I somehow know has been there all along. As it gains strength, the ocean floor explodes with tiny puffs of sand, drops of sea gla.s.s settling down into it.

Above me, my mother is weeping.

CHAPTER 12.

I didn't go near the water for nearly a week. Instead I left in the morning for practice, where I ran hard enough that Jillian had a hard time sticking with me, and Coach Martin reminded me repeatedly to save my legs for the upcoming meet. After practice I went to the shopping center across the highway and aimlessly wandered the stores, even when I could tell that the shop girls were completely irritated. I spent hours on end at the Starbucks, listening from behind my magazine to people order, and talk on their cel phones, and gossip. I came home after dark, so I didn't have to look at my mom's cottage or decline my dad's invitations to surf before he had to go to work.

On the weekend, when we finally pa.s.sed in the hall, Dad paused and grabbed me gently by the shoulders. "Hey, stranger! Haven't seen much of you since I switched over to nights. Feels like I'm living with a ghost." He looked me over carefully. "Everything okay, kiddo?" I shrugged his hands off. "I know. Sorry. I'm just busy with practice, and school starts tomorrow, so I wanted to do a little shopping ..." His mouth fell open. "Oh, jeez. I'm sorry, hon. I didn't realize it was tomorrow." He pulled out his wall et and handed me a crisp hundred-dollar bill. "Here.

Why don't you go out with Ashley or something and pick yourself up a few new things for school then?" I didn't answer at first. I hadn't actually meant I wanted to go shopping.

"You know ... here. Use this instead." He took back the hundred and handed me his ATM card. "Just in case you need a little more. You know the PIN." I twirled the card slowly between my fingers before tucking it into my pocket. "Thanks, Dad, but you don't need to give me this." He laid a heavy hand on my head. "Hey. I realize it's not easy starting out someplace new. But you're gonna be fine. Don't sweat it."

"I know, I know. Thank you." I forced a smile he could believe, then turned to go before he could see it slip away.

"Have fun," he called after me. "Go big if you want-it's your one chance. This promotion's gotta be good for something." I sat on the edge of a fountain that shot water high up into the air in predictable rhythmic intervals. Each time it did, two little girls who were hanging over the edge of it screamed with delight as mist fell over them. Their mom sat a few feet away, texting, and shushed them without looking up. At least they had each other.

The mist felt good on my skin in the heat of the day, and I tried to soak it up. When I'd gotten to the mall, Dad's ATM card in hand, I'd perked up a bit. He'd never just handed it over like that. Definitely not with instructions to "go big." Either he was feeling guilty or his promotion really was worth something.

Whatever it was, the little mood lift it gave me faded when I couldn't get ahold of Ashley and had to go shopping by myself. I thought of Shelby and Laura and how we would have made a day of it. We would've pa.s.sed clothes back and forth over the dressing room walls, stepped out to show each outfit, critiquing all the while, and talked each other into the things we loved and wanted to borrow later on. Then we would have sat here together at this fountain with coffee drinks or ice cream cones, dissecting what the first day of school would be like-which teachers we'd end up with, who'd be completely changed over the summer, and where we'd be having lunch. As it was, I'd half heartedly picked a few sundresses off a surf store sale rack and grabbed a new pair of sandals without even trying them on, and now I sat staring at the center of the fountain, feeling pitifully alone.

"Hey, Anna."

I looked up to see Jillian standing with a woman who had to be her mom. They stood next to each other, smoothie cups in hand, almost mirror images with the same slender build, long legs, and brown eyes. Her mom stepped forward, smiling. "I'm Beth, Jill y's mom. And you must be the Anna that Jill 's been talking about. You girls should do pretty well this season, from what I hear."

I smiled back, heartened a little by her immediate warmth and the fact that Jillian had mentioned me to her mom. I tried to match her cheery tone. "Hopefully. I've never competed before, so we'll see." Jillian raised an eyebrow, smiling. "I thought we competed every day at practice. You've been kicking my b.u.t.t the last three days." Beth leaned into me a little, her voice a half-whisper. "Good job. Keep it up. She needs a good training partner, someone to push her every now and then." Jillian gave her a look, and Beth put a hand on each of our shoulders. "Anna, it is so good to meet you. I can't wait to see you race. Jill y, hon, I need to run into the bookstore. Meet you back here in a few minutes?"

She nodded without looking at her mom. "See you in a few."

Beth gave one more wave before she turned and headed down the cobblestone row of stores, and I watched until I couldn't see her anymore. "Your mom's really nice."

"She's superhappy I'm running again-which I get, but she can be a little much sometimes." Jillian sat next to me on the edge of the fountain, and I wondered if the "Again" had something to do with her sister. She motioned to my bag. "Anyway. Last-minute school shopping?"

"Kind of. If you count sale rack sundresses. I'm not too into shopping. Or school starting." Jillian took a sip of her smoothie. "That why you've been running all crazy this week? Are you stressed out about it or something?" Even she'd noticed. I watched a stream of water fly up and then separate into little droplets before raining back down. "I guess so." She shrugged. "Don't worry about it. You have the team already." She grinned and b.u.mped my shoulder. "And you have Ashley, too."

I nodded, surprised at how good it felt to have someone other than my dad rea.s.sure me. "That's true. What more do I need, really?"

"You need to know two things-" Jillian's phone chimed with a text. She glanced at her purse. "G.o.d, she's quick, my mom." Jillian grabbed her cup and stood. "I gotta go meet her."

"Wait-what are the two things?" I really wanted to know.

"Oh. The first one is that tomorrow will look like a ridiculous fashion show, but n.o.body keeps that up past the first week. The second thing is ... our school is small, and people will know you're new so just be ready to feel like they're sizing you up. Because they are." The flip-flop my stomach did must have shown on my face. Jillian put her hand on my shoulder. "I didn't tell you to make you nervous. Don't be. I told you so you can walk in there well prepared." I started to ask her what she meant, but she'd already turned to go. "See you tomorrow! Hold your head high!" Hold my head high? What was that supposed to mean? I didn't have anything to be ashamed of. I didn't think.

Great.

CHAPTER 13.

Jillian was right about the whole fashion show thing. Immaculately dressed people funneled into the courtyard, all tanned and beautiful and looking like they'd stepped out of a magazine. I looked down at my schedule and then back up, hoping to see Jillian or Ashley among them. All around me were groups I didn't belong to. The guys stood around in clothes far more expensive than mine and nodded while making small talk and eyeing the girls. The girls, on the other hand, paraded in, all in carefully chosen outfits that had probably been weeks in the making. When they saw each other, they squealed and rushed to meet, chat, compliment, and then size up everyone else. Which made me thankful for Jillian's warning. I didn't want to be the topic of anyone's conversation, so I tried to blend in. Clearly, though, I didn't.

I hadn't given what I would be wearing much thought until that morning. It was still warm even early in the morning, so I had pulled out one of my new sundresses, clipped the tag off, slid into my flip-flops, and finger-combed out my hair, letting it hang loose and wavy down my back. I was fine with what I was wearing; it was just the standing alone, awkwardly checking and rechecking my schedule that made me feel out of place. I needed something else to look at.

As if my thoughts were broadcast over the intercom, Tyler walked into the far end of the courtyard, up to another lifeguard I recognized from the party, and high-fived him. They exchanged a few words, then both turned to take in the ma.s.s of people milling around. I was about to look away and pretend I hadn't seen him, when his eyes met mine for a brief instant. He didn't outwardly acknowlledge me, but the hint of a smile crossed his face as he scanned the remainder of the courtyard, looking like he owned the place. I checked my schedule again. Algebra I, room 101, Mr. Strickland.

"Heeyy!" A pink fruity-smelling blur of blond hair and tan skin ran up and hugged me. "You look SO cute! I love the beach-casual. Have you been here long? Sorry I'm late-I had a minor clothes crisis this morning." I just nodded, sure that she'd launch into the full story of it. Instead she jumped right to a new topic.

"Oh! So how much trouble were you in for the other night? You should have seen your dad when he got there. It was so scary. I thought I was gonna get arrested for bringing the champagne. And then later when Tyler swam in, he was all freaked out about it, and-" As she said it, I saw Tyler heading in our direction, and I immediately whipped up my schedule.

"Hey, Ash. Do you have lip gloss?"

She glanced at Tyler, immediately getting it, and handed me the tube. Then she tilted her head in, whispering, "So, what happened between you guys out at that rock? He seemed superworried when he came in.

Like, maybe he-kinda-likes-you worried." She smiled and nudged me with her shoulder.

I took another quick glance as he came our way, looking beyond us like he wasn't gonna stop. "No," I said definitively. "He doesn't like me. He's just scared to death of my dad, that's all."

Tyler approached us, not bothering to hide the smirk that now played across his face. "Little Ryan.... Whitmore. Glad to see you're both alive and well ." He nodded to each of us.

That greeting reiterated what I had just told Ashley, though I hadn't really believed it when I'd said it. I was immediately annoyed.

"Morning!" Ashley practically sang.

I shifted my weight and smiled thinly. "Hey." Nothing else came to mind. Nothing that I could say out loud, at least. I had only ever seen Tyler in his trunks on the beach, and he had looked like every other lifeguard around. And like that, there had been a possibility between us. Here at school it was obvious that he probably came from the same kind of money as everyone else. He was dressed casually, in jeans and a T-shirt and flip-flops of his own, but the giveaway was in the way he carried himself. totally relaxed and sure. Like he belonged here.

The bell rang, and Ashley squeezed my arm. "Hey! I gotta go. I have dance yoga first period." Tyler was looking at her with an amused expression, and I had to smile. "Meet me out here at lunch, okay?" she continued. "We don't want to have to do the whole new-girl/walk-the-quad-and-try-to-figure-out-where-to-sit thing." I opened my mouth to respond, but didn't get the chance. She eyed Tyler for a second. "Unless you have other plans already." I jumped in quickly this time, trying to avoid an awkward moment. "No. I'll meet you."

"Okay, good! I brought you lunch too, so you don't have to eat the cafeteria food before practice today." She started to bounce away, then turned around.

"Good luck!"

"Thanks."

Tyler took a step closer. My cheeks burned as I fought the urge to take a step backward. He smelled so good. "You've got quite the little caretaker there." He glanced down at my schedule. "Where you headed first?"

I looked at the now crinkled paper in my hand, which was ridiculous, because I had my schedule memorized at this point. "Math, in 101. Mr. Strickland?" He raised his eyebrows and smirked. "Oh, you're in for a real treat. The guy's a total hard-a.s.s. Fails half his cla.s.s every year, which is why I won't be the only senior in there."

"You're in there too?" I asked, trying to sound only mildly interested. "First?"

"Yeah. We better get going. He's gonna make an example of somebody today, and you don't want it to be you." Upstairs we filed into room 101 with a line of other students who chattered and compared schedules. A short man in a cowboy hat stood with his back to the cla.s.s, writing frenetically on the whiteboard. I looked around for an empty seat, preferably near the back. Tyler had already found a desk a couple of rows over and had his hand on the one behind it. He motioned to me to hurry up, so I weaved my way over and slid into the chair behind him. Right on cue with the final bell , Mr. Strickland turned around and leveled his eyes on a girl who was still leaning on her desk, rummaging through her purse.

"Does your mama let you sit in your mashed potatoes at home?" he bell owed through a thick mustache. The girl looked confused, but then plunked down in her chair and looked at her lap.

Mr. Strickland scanned the room for another victim. I scanned the walls behind his desk, which were covered with different notes and drawings tacked up haphazardly. A wooden paddle with holes drilled into it hung above them all, the handle emblazoned with a carved silhouette that resembled Yosemite Sam and Mr. Strickland at the same time. He saw me looking and turned his attention on me. "You must be Joe Ryan's daughter." I flinched, then shifted in my seat, getting ready for whatever saying he was going to spit at me, but it didn't come. "Smart guy, your old man. Hopefully he pa.s.sed it on." I nodded once, silent. He looked down his roll sheet until he found me. "Louanna Ryan." Tyler cleared his throat loudly and shifted in his seat in front of me.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes or kick his desk. "Just Anna, please."

Mr. Strickland looked at me a quick second, then fixed his eyes on Tyler. "Evans! You sick or something? I am. Sick of you already." Tyler shrugged, but didn't say anything. Mr. Strickland looked back at me, a little softer. "Well, Ms. Ryan, the thing you need to know about this cla.s.s, as lots of people in here can tell you from previous experience, is that G.o.d helps those who help themselves, so if you don't get it, get off your lazy you-know-what and help yourself." We were all silent, and I waited for a translation, explanation, something.

"I'm in here every morning, six a.m. if you need help, so no one has any excuse not to pa.s.s my cla.s.s." I looked around at the other glazed-looking faces and wondered how many of them were repeaters. "Now get out your books. Let's get started. First test is next Friday." Tyler leaned back in his desk and turned his head just enough for me to see the smirk that had now become familiar. "Told you ... Louanna."

"Yeah, he seems like a real fan of yours," I whispered, leaning forward.

Strickland stopped writing and turned slowly from the whiteboard. "Evans. Didn't your mama teach you it's not polite to talk while I'm giving you the most important formula you'll need in this cla.s.s?"

I looked at the board studiously, then back at my paper, trying not to crack a smile. Instruction resumed, and in front of me Tyler shook his head.

The rest of the day until lunch went by uneventfully. My other teachers were young and enthusiastic. All a.s.sured us that this year what we were going to learn would be exciting and relevant to our lives. All were happy to make a little note on their rollsheet to call me Anna. And none of them had known either one of my parents. By the time I got to lunch, I was feeling a tiny bit optimistic that school here might not be so bad. I was even starting to feel thankful that I had somewhere to go during the day, away from the beach and all of the things I didn't want to think about there.

As soon as the lunch bell rang, my phone vibrated with a text from Ashley. "Lunch on south green. Lots 2 tell u!" I looked at the map on the back of my schedule and headed down a steep path that overlooked the small upscale-artsy town and the ocean beyond. On the sides of the path were stone tables sheltered by umbrellas. Ashley sat at a sunny one, arranging an array of small plastic containers. Then she folded her hands and looked around, barely able to hold still . When she saw me, she waved excitedly.

"Hey! Come, sit!" I made my way over and set my bag down, eyeing the lunch spread, which looked like it had come from a gourmet deli. "Grab a sandwich and some fruit. That's your best bet for before practice today. I just read it in Runner's World. You know, slow-release energy, because I talked to Coach Martin and you guys have a long run today."

I reached for the paper-wrapped sandwich. "Thanks. So, what, you're his a.s.sistant now or something?" She handed me a bottle of water and opened up one for herself, then turned to face me. "Sort of. Anyway, what do you think so far? How's your first day?" I swallowed a mouthful of sandwich and nodded, trying to match her enthusiasm. "It's good. My first-period teacher is a little old-school, and seems to have it out for Tyler, but other than that it's good."

"Tyler's in first with you?" Her eyes widened. "That's great, right? Maybe he can *tutor' you." She notched quotation marks in the air.

I took a swig of water. "I don't think so. It's his second time in there. And anyway, he's not interested. I can tell ." Ashley's hand flew to her mouth, and I thought she had bit her tongue or something. "That's even better! You could tutor him! It's perfect!" She clapped her hands together, and when she did, I noticed she had had her nails done pink with tiny flowers painted on them to match her outfit.

"I don't think I'm his type. He's probably got a zil ion girls here after him."

Ashley looked at me very matter-of-factly. "Oh, he does. He's Tyler Evans. But ..." She leaned in close and lowered her voice, despite the fact that there was no one else around. "That's what I had to tell you! Everybody is talking about you. And him. They're saying you two left everyone else in the water and hooked up out there. They're also saying you were drunk and naked." She took a dainty bite of her sandwich.

I choked on a gulp at the back of my throat. "What? None of that is true. You were there ..."

"I know, I know. Whoever started that last one was jealous. Because you supposedly hooked up with the most sought-after senior, which is what these two girls in my first-period cla.s.s told me Tyler is. They saw us all standing together this morning and were totally asking me about you. Not in a b.i.t.c.hy way or anything, though, don't worry." I shook my head, slightly amazed that Jillian had nailed it so well .

"Anyway," Ashley was saying, "I know I was the one who talked you into running, but would you hate me if I quit? The girls I met in first said that if I do dance, it counts for PE, and I never really liked getting all sweaty running. Plus, dance clothes are way more flattering on me than running clothes." I gave her an are-you-kidding-me look, but really I didn't mind too much. She hadn't actually run at the last few practices anyway, and I'd felt like I should hang out with her even though I would have liked to talk to Jillian more. "That's fine, Ash. I think I'm gonna stick with it, though. I kinda like getting all sweaty."

"I know. I could tell that about you when we met. Hey," she said, suddenly serious, "it doesn't mean we'll stop hanging out or anything."

"No, no, of course not." I smiled at her. Most likely we'd find our own circles of people we fit in with. That was just the way it worked. But she'd grown on me, and I already considered her a friend.

She looked at her watch and pushed a small, dense lump that resembled a cookie at me. "Eat this right after seventh. It's a little energy nugget. I saw the recipe in some health food book and gave it to our chef. Hopefully it's edible." I took the nugget. "Thanks. And thanks for lunch, Ash." I slipped my backpack over my shoulders, and she grabbed up her giant black bag. "I appreciate it -everything, I mean."

She tilted her head and smiled, then gave me a quick hug. "It's what I do." And then she was bouncing off again. I checked the room number for my seventh-period cla.s.s and headed toward the three-hundred building.

CHAPTER 14.

The tardy bell rang, and I slid into my seat, grateful that last period had finally arrived. Despite the fact that there was no teacher in the front of the room, the chatter that came in from the hall way had dwindled to a whisper here and there as everyone looked around for some direction. I saw a blond girl from my math cla.s.s, but when we made eye contact, she looked away quickly without acknowledging me. Someone cleared their throat from the back of the room, and the distinct clack of heels slowly made its way up one of the rows.

"Well, good afternoon. Aren't you all just a bundle of energy today." Everyone else turned back to look, but I recognized her voice from the beach immediately and kept my eyes straight ahead, focused hard on the whiteboard. This had to be a joke. No wonder she could quote poetry. Her heels clacked up the aisle in slow, measured steps, and I wondered if her feet ached after a summer of barefoot walks on the beach. I snuck a look once she pa.s.sed my row. With her hair pulled back into a bun and her tailored dress, I might not have even recognized her at first. The only hint of the Joy from the beach was the tanned skin that crinkled around her eyes as she turned around and smiled warmly at us. I looked down immediately.

"Welcome," she said. n.o.body said anything. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a few heads nod. "Well "-she straightened up-"I'm sure you've spent the day listening to everyone's cla.s.s rules and plans, and that you probably didn't really listen to any of it. It's your first day back, I know. Mine too. I'm Ms. Lewis." Joy Lewis, I thought. Who knew my mother, and too much about me to be my teacher. Perfect.

She spoke in a calm but firm voice. "My rules are simple. I expect you to act like responsible people." She paused, and I looked out the window, which framed blue sky and the barely discernable horizon of the ocean. "And I expect you to think." I glanced up. She was at the front of the cla.s.sroom, scanning our faces for some flicker of something. I watched her eyes look up and down the rows, until they stopped at me, and this time I didn't look away. There was a visible shift in her expression and a noticeable beat before she spoke again, like she had lost the thread of her speech. She smiled vaguely and nodded before continuing.

"Since this is World Literature, we'll be starting at the beginning, with a favorite topic of mine. Mythology." Of course. I looked down at my desk, but I could feel her eyes still on me. "Now, I don't mean your standard Greek mythology. You guys did that in seventh grade. This quarter we're gonna take a look at some lesser-known myths. Some that have found their way into our movies and books and music without us even realizing what they are." She looked around, and we sat in silence. I focused hard on the letters carved into the corner of the desk. Thick layers of blue and black ink speled out a four-letter word that echoed my general sentiment at the moment.

She chuckled softly. "You guys are a tough audience, this first day of school, last cla.s.s of the day. I get it. I'd rather be out there too, to tell you the truth." She motioned to the window and finally won a few murmurs of agreement. "How about this. Anyone have an idea about why we have myths in the first place?"

After a long moment a brunette in the front row raised her hand and spoke tentatively. "Um, to explain things people didn't understand?" Joy (Ms. Lewis) clapped her hands, and I glanced up. "Yes, honey! Thank you! To explain the things we don't understand. Because it's in us to want to answer things, right? The things that nag at us and keep us up at night, wondering. It's human nature to want answers." I swore her eyes flicked to me for a second before she went on. "So that's where we'll start. With questions that need to be answered. Tomorrow. I'm gonna give you the rest of the period today to flip through your books, read the intro, and come up with a question you think people, as in humans, need answered. A big question. And I'll be willing to bet there's a myth that takes a crack at it."

n.o.body moved.

"Go on now. Get your books and paper out and your brains going. It's time to start thinking." Backpacks unzipped and papers rustled around me. I just sat there. It had felt like she was talking just to me the whole time, like she knew what I was thinking, and it had me almost frozen. There were things I'd thought I wanted answered for a long time, but I wasn't sure of them anymore. It seemed like the answers could be worse than the wondering. It was why I tiptoed around the topic of my mom just as much as my dad did. I'd yet to find out why he hadn't told me about her living at the cove, or when they left, or what their story was, but the unknown was frightening. Maybe it was something too hard for him to tell , that would put us back in the painful place we were in for so long after she was gone. Maybe it wasn't worth it to know. Maybe she could just stay a question, like the crawling man, a kind of myth of her own. My mother.

I pulled out my English notebook and opened it to the first page, which was still clean and blank. My pencil hovered over the center of the page. Around me, most people sat the same way, either flipping pages in the book or staring at blank notebook pages, unsure of how to proceed. For a teacher she'd left things pretty wide open. The seconds ticking away on the clock were now audible. Joy (I still couldn't think of her differently) walked softly to the first desk in my aisle, paused to look at the boy's notebook, then made her way down the row. When she got to my desk, she put a hand on my shoulder, but I stiffened and she took it away.

"No questions yet, huh?" I shook my head. "Well, give yourself some time. I'm sure you'll come up with a few." She took a step to leave, but then paused.

"Why don't you stay after cla.s.s a minute. I've got something for you."