Mark’s reaction was a lot more subdued than the other guys. I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting, but the quiet hug and searching look weren’t it.

“You okay?” he asked, running a hand down my cheek.

“Yeah.” I forced a smile. “I’m fine. Why?”

“I tried to call you a few times, you never picked up.”

“Oh, right. Things were just really crazy.” Not to mention the fact that I was a few thousand feet out of range. I was pretty sure cell phones didn’t work at the bottom of the Pacific.

“Crazy. Right.” He nodded, but he didn’t look happy. Why hadn’t I thought of an excuse? I frantically searched my mind for something to say. Sooner or later someone was going to ask where I’d been and it wasn’t like I could tell them the truth.

“How’s your mom?” asked Bach.

“What?” I whirled on him. “How did you—”

“Your dad told us, when we stopped by the day after your party. Said your mom was sick and you went to take care of her for a few weeks.” Logan nodded. “That was really cool of you, Tempest.”

“Oh.” I smiled sickly. “Thanks.”

“So, how is she?” Tony asked, reaching past me for another piece of pizza.

“She died four days ago.” The words were out before I knew I was going to say them. But I didn’t want to call them back—it was a relief to finally say them out loud. A relief for someone to know what had happened, even if I couldn’t tell them the whole story.

“Oh, shit.” Logan stared at me in horror. “Tempe, that sucks.”

“Yeah, pretty much.” I looked away, completely unprepared to deal with the sympathy on their faces. They must have gotten the message that I didn’t want to talk about it, because after a few bumbling but sweet apologies, they turned the discussion to—what else—surfing. But they were a lot more subdued than they had been a few minutes before.

The guy at the counter chose that moment to call out, “Two pizzas for Maguire,” and I started to make my excuses.

But before I could say more than “That’s me,” Mark had grabbed me around the waist and pulled me down onto his lap. He rested his forehead against mine and we were so close that after a few seconds his eyes blended into one large one in the center of his forehead. I know mine must have done the same. “I’m so sorry, babe.”

“It’s not your fault.” But I didn’t look away. I couldn’t. I’d thought my feelings for Kona would supersede any emotions I had for Mark, but they didn’t. It felt good to be held by him again. Different, but still good.

“I do wish you’d told me. I would have come to the funeral.”

I shrugged. “It was pretty far away.”

“Your dad said you were in Hawaii. That’s not that far.” He pulled away slightly and cupped my face in his hands. “You okay?” he whispered, his breath warm against my face.

“Yeah. I mean, as okay as I can be.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

He stood up with a nod. “Okay, then. Go get the pizzas. I’ll ride home with you.”

“You don’t have to do that—”

“Tempest. You’re my girl. I haven’t seen you in two weeks and your mother just died. I think a night out with the guys can wait.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” seconded Bach. “Go take care of her, man.”

“I plan to.”

And just that easily, I had my old life back.

Chapter 27

Only it wasn’t that easy, not even close. I went through the motions, but nothing felt the same as it had before I’d left.

When I was with Mark, I thought about Kona.

When I was with my friends, I thought about Mark.

When I was with my father, I thought about my mom.

And when I was surfing—which didn’t happen nearly as often as it used to—I thought about those few days of swimming underwater. Of being mermaid.

I’d once heard the expression “You can’t go home again,” and I’d always found it a little odd. I mean, what was the definition of home if it wasn’t a place you could return to when you were done being someplace else?

Now I realize that I should have paid closer attention—it wasn’t like I hadn’t seen the principle in action, up close and personal. My mother had walked away one morning and never come back and I’d spent six long years blaming her for it. Now, here I was. I had come back—I’d never even planned on leaving at all—and still nothing was the same.

Then again, maybe everything was the same. Maybe it was just me who’d changed. All I knew was that when I got up every morning and went to school, I felt like I was living somebody else’s life.

But those days under the sea—they weren’t my life either. I’d felt at least as uneasy there as I did here. In fact, the only time I’d ever felt really comfortable was when I was with Kona. But even if I went back—even if I turned mermaid—I couldn’t just be with him all the time. I had to find my own way. I couldn’t spend the rest of my days expecting him to take care of me. That would drive me nuts.

And yet, sometimes I caught myself staring out at the ocean, wanting to swim as far out as I could and let it take me. Let it pull me back to the life I’d had for such a short time. I was angry, disappointed, horrified by what had happened at the bottom of the ocean, but still a part of me couldn’t let it go. I yearned for the water, yearned for the life I could have had.

Everything came to a head for me after class one day. Normally, I might have gone surfing with the guys, but the wind was too high to make the water anything but bad. So Mark had invited us back to his place to hang.

I’d almost canceled, but I’d been doing that a lot lately—to him and to the rest of my friends. Bri and Mickey kept coming around, almost every day, wanting to hang out. I usually brushed them off—not because I had anything better to do, but because I’d rather sit in my room and look at the Pacific than try to come up with something to say to them.

I’d imagine how things could have been different, how my last image of my mother might not have been seeing her ripped apart by the Lusca if I had just been a little less angry, a little more careful.

But the worst part of sitting there thinking about her wasn’t even picturing her death—and my complicity in it. It was finding that, after everything, I was still selfish enough to be mad at her. Even after knowing everything that she’d gone through, even after finding out that she had had almost complete control of her clan for the last six years, I was still furious that she had left Rio, Moku, and me without her guidance.

My dad was a great father but what did he know about being mermaid? And while I’d come to grips with her leaving me, I couldn’t help resenting the fact that she’d abandoned my brothers as well. I thought turning into a mermaid was bad, but when I’d been down there I’d realized that there was something even worse—at least if you were raised to be human. And that was becoming a merman.

The selkies and other half-human creatures chased after the mermaids because they were sexy and powerful, but I’d seen the look of disgust on Kona’s face when he’d spoken of mermen. The mermaid clans were the only female-dominated society under the sea and the mermen took a lot of heat for that.