What was I doing here? How had I let myself get talked into coming to mermaid camp? I should be home, helping out at the bookstore and trying to find the missing trophy.
Unplugging my cell phone from its charger, I slipped out of bed and crept as quietly as I could across the bare wooden floor to the cabin door. Outside, I tiptoed behind Whelk, then sprinted across the back lawn toward the cover of the pine trees beyond the pool. I stood there for a moment in the shadows, hoping no one had seen me. But the windows in the main house and all the cabins remained dark, and the ladies of Sand Dollar were still busy whooping it up, clearly not interested in anything going on outside. Like a fellow aspiring mermaid making a desperate phone call.
Aunt True answered on the first ring.
“Truly? It’s late—is everything all right?”
At the sound of her voice, I burst into tears.
“Oh, honey, what’s wrong?”
“Everything!” I wailed. “I hate it here! I want to come home!” I knew I sounded like a homesick little kid, but I didn’t care. The words came tumbling out in a rush. “My stupid mermaid tail didn’t fit because they sent me the wrong size, and Sirena wanted me to be a sea serpent instead but it had moth holes and now I have to wear something called a shimmertail and be a queen in front of the entire world! ”
There was silence on the other end of the phone as my aunt tried to digest this burst of information. “Um, I get the picture, I think?”
Just in case she didn’t, I expanded on my list of complaints: Sirena and her dumb “mermaids eat fish” and “mermaids need their beauty rest” and other pronouncements; Mackenzie’s complete lack of a sense of humor about all the things that struck me as funny; Hayden’s designs on my throne, which I didn’t really want anyway; the revue looming at the end of the week. “I even have to wear a stupid clamshell bra!” I finished indignantly.
I could hear Aunt True smiling. “You do realize, of course, that you’re going to have great stories to tell about this experience for the rest of your life.”
I grunted. “That doesn’t help.”
“I know, sweetheart.” She sighed. “I wish I could fix this for you.”
“You can! I really want to come home, Aunt True! I called you because I know Mom and Dad were looking forward to some time alone, but couldn’t I stay with you?”
There was another long pause. “I tell you what,” she said finally. “Before we go with the nuclear option, how about you sit tight for forty-eight hours? Things might get better. And if they don’t, and you still want to come home, I’ll drive down and get you, okay?”
I could live with that. “Okay.”
“Good girl. Meanwhile, call me any time, or zap me a text. Tall timber sticks together. Now, go get some sleep. I hear that mermaids need their beauty rest.”
I laughed grudgingly. After we hung up, I decided to text Calhoun and Scooter and Lucas. No point waiting until tomorrow.
ANY PROGRESS? I waited for a response. Nothing. They were probably all asleep. As I was slipping my phone back into my pocket, though, it buzzed.
It was Calhoun!
A LITTLE, he told me. LUCAS’S CROWDSOURCING—#MISSING TROPHY #PUMPKINFALLS #FOURONTHEFOURTH—IS STARTING TO PAY OFF. WE’RE REVIEWING THE PHOTOS AS THEY COME IN.
VIDEO CHAT TOMORROW?
SURE. HOW’S MERMAID CAMP?
DON’T ASK, I replied, adding an eye roll emoji.
LOL! NIGHT
NIGHT
There was one other person I thought about calling, but I knew from personal experience that athletes at sports camps went to bed early. I typed out another text instead: HELP! HAVE BEEN KIDNAPPED BY ALIENS DISGUISED AS MERMAIDS! I added an alien emoji, along with a mermaid one for good measure, and sent it to Hatcher. And then I went back to bed.
Morning came way too early. I trailed down to the pool behind my cousin and friends, yawning. I wasn’t the only one who’d stayed up too late. The four women from Sand Dollar looked even less awake than me. They’d still been talking and laughing when I’d finally managed to fall asleep last night.
Sirena wagged a finger at them. “Next time, ladies, do as I tell you. Mermaids—”
“—need their beauty rest!” the four of them chorused in unison.
“That’s exactly right.” Sirena was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, as Grandma G would say. Today she was wearing a bright floral swimsuit, matching floral flip-flops, sunglasses whose frames were studded with rhinestones, and a wide-brimmed hat. From what I’d seen, just about everything Sirena owned was decorated either with sequins, fake jewels, or glitter.
Delphine looked more like a normal person. Her racer-back swimsuit was similar to the one I was wearing, and over it she’d pulled the same denim shorts she’d worn last night.
The high school girls from St. Louis were in high spirits, laughing and joking around with one another. Hayden still looked grumpy. Her mother, who was probably used to her moods, calmly sipped coffee out of a travel mug with MER-MAMA emblazoned on the side. Zadie and Lorena were going through a series of stretches on the pool deck. I watched them, impressed. They were pretty flexible for ladies pushing ninety.
Sirena clapped her hands. “Into the water with you!”
“What about our tails?” asked Hayden.
“We’ll get to that later. First, morning mermaid exercises.”
This sounded suspiciously like warm-ups at swim team practice, which it pretty much was. Sirena and Delphine led us through stretches along the wall first, and then made us swim laps while they watched.
“We want to get a sense of your overall comfort in the water, and of your general level of ability as swimmers,” Sirena told us. Delphine stood beside her, taking notes.
I felt myself relax the minute
