“Tell me.”

“I was about thirteen. Doc Schroeder says it had to do with premature hormone development. He’s a real doctor, you know. He’s mated to a Syrena, Jessa, and they have a son, Fin.” He shakes his head. “Can you believe they named their son Fin?”

I take Reed by the shoulders and give him a good shake. “Hello? You in there? Tell me how it happened.” I can tell by the way he glances ahead of us that we’re close to the Huddle. And I can tell he doesn’t divulge this story to just anyone.

“Okay. Sorry.” Reed actually backs away from me then, and I almost laugh, but I’m afraid that if I do, he’ll get distracted again. “So one day I’m not feeling good, so I stay home from school. I’m not sick, not exactly, but I definitely don’t feel like going to school. Which, since I never miss school—that’s kind of a big deal—”

“Ohmysweetgoodness!”

“Okay, okay, sorry. So whenever I don’t feel good, I like to go fishing. It’s quiet and relaxing and … Anyway, I stand up for something in the boat, and I notice my legs hurt. I mean they hurt, like I had the flu or something. I tried stretching it out, because that’s what it felt like I should do—stretch.” He makes a show of bending slightly to stretch his legs. “Then I remember that’s what Dad said it feels like when he’s been out of the water too long. So I jump in the creek. As soon as I do, my legs start to twist and bend, and it feels hot, like my bones are melting together, but it doesn’t hurt. Not much, anyways. It feels good, actually, in a painful sort of way.” Reed looks at me incredulously, as if it’s happening all over again. I can tell by his face that the experience would have unleashed Scared Senseless Emma. “So my skin gets real thin and stretchy, and it covers over my legs—which, by the way, twisted around themselves twice. But I don’t shape a fin. Not a normal one, anyway. It’s sickly looking. Like the whole length of it looks like the skin of a chicken after it’s been plucked. Not smooth and badass, like Dad’s. You can still see the knobs of my knees. I looked like a freak.”

“Are you sure it was all that bad?”

He nods enthusiastically. “Absolutely. It was grotesque, Emma. I’ve never tried to do it again.”

“Have you ever felt the need to stretch it out like that since?”

“One other time, a few months later. Never again though.”

I wrap my arms around myself. “So … So our skin stretches like that?”

Reed grimaces. “According to Doc Schroeder, the skin cells of a full-blood Syrena are thick and stretchy. That’s part of why things don’t penetrate their skin as well. It kind of repels it, because of the flexibility. Half-Breeds inherit half the thickness, half the stretchiness, or whatever. That’s why it pulled so thin over my legs and made me look like an anorexic chicken shark. I’m serious, Emma. You look like you’re naked. And dying of something.”

I can’t help but laugh. He just looks so traumatized, rehashing how he came to sprout a bony, icky fin.

I’m pretty sure Dr. Milligan would be interested in this development. Maybe he and Doc Schroeder could get together over tea or crumpets or whatever doctors get together over. I’m sure they’d love to compare notes. But … I’m not sure Neptune would be willing to accept Dr. Milligan just yet. They do have their stranger filter on full effect.

I can tell Reed needs some comfort or a distraction or something to help bring him back. “You expected a kiss in exchange for a story about the diseased fin of a chicken?” This does the trick. Unfortunately. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Without warning, he leans close to me, excessively close, so that barely any water can pass between our mouths. And my guilt about being “aware” of him knows no bounds.

He uses his thumb to trace the outline of my cheek. My instinct is to move back, but I get the feeling that he’ll just ease closer. “Do I get one? Because if you’ve chosen me, Emma, tell me right now.”

I close my mouth abruptly.

With that he withdraws, gently taking my wrist and pulling me back in the direction of the Huddle. Which is good, because Toby has come back for us.

“What is taking you two so long? Everyone is waiting.” The twang in Toby’s voice has devolved into a full country accent. “And anyways, I already told the sheriff about Galen, Emma. They’re getting together a search thingy right now.”

As if he spoke the sheriff into existence, a party of Syrena and Half-Breed—and one human with scuba gear—appear from around the next bend of tunnel. The Syrena at the head swims directly up to Reed. “Your father’s waiting for you, son.” Then he turns to Emma, and his face softens. “You must be Emma. I’m ashamed we haven’t met yet.” He extends his hand to me and I take it. “My name is Waden Grigsby. I’m the sheriff of Neptune and this lot behind me is my deputies. Except for the guy in the gear. He’s lost.”

My mouth pops open and Waden chuckles. “Just kidding. That’s Darrel. He’s with us.” Then his face melts into all seriousness again. “Toby told us you’re concerned that your friend—Grady is it?—is missing. Any idea where he would have gone?”

“His name is Galen,” I say with more irritation than I should. He’s leaving a party full of good company to help me, after all. “And he is missing. He wouldn’t just leave me here alone like this.” Right? Right?