On shaky legs, I get up from the folding chair—third seat in, eighth row back—and make my way down the grassy field to the temporary stage. I climb the three steps up onto the stage, cross to where Principal Brown stands in front of the microphone, and take his offered hand.

In his other hand is a scroll of paper, tied with a pretty blue ribbon. He guides me to face the camera and, as the flash pops in my eyes, he presses the scroll into my hand.

“Congratulations, Lily.”

I smile and flee off the stage on the other side. When I get back down to the grass, I turn to face the crowd in the stands above the field. The seating is general admission, so my friends and family could be anywhere, but with Tellin in attendance I just follow the sense of the bond.

I zero in on their location and hold up the scroll, my hard-earned diploma.

Even across the field, I can hear them cheering, Daddy, Aunt Rachel, Doe, and Tellin. Quince’s mom is up there, too. Even Peri made the trip back to watch me walk at graduation—sporting chestnut hair with vivid orange tips.

My other nearest and dearest are in the sea of students with me. Brody is somewhere very near the front, with Quince just a couple rows behind him. Shannen is at the very back, and we’ll have to wait almost to the end to see her get her diploma. And honor cords. And perfect attendance award. And state scholarship certificate.

She has the longest graduation résumé of anyone in our class. And I’m so proud that she’s my best human friend.

I’m proud of all of us, for sticking it out and making it through.

And as soon as the ceremony is over, Daddy and I have a special graduation surprise planned for Quince. After the last name is called, the crowd in the stands descends on the field of new graduates. Aunt Rachel takes a million pictures, and Quince’s mom takes almost as many.

By the time they’re done, the stage is cleared and most of the stadium is emptied. As our friends and family finally disperse, I order Quince into my car.

“Where are we going, princess?” he asks, lifting his eyebrows suggestively. “You going to kidnap me and take me to your magical kingdom?”

I just smile and keep driving.

I make it to the beach without stalling out once. This is definitely an improvement, although I did lurch through a few intersections along the way.

When we get there, everyone is waiting for us. Well, everyone but Quince’s mom—we’re still trying to figure out how to tell her about the mer world. I pull into a parking spot at the far end of the lot.

Quince starts to climb out of the car, but I put my hand on his arm to stop him. I want this moment to be about us.

“So, after the council meeting, Daddy gave me some good news.”

“What’s that?” he asks. “Something about your inter­kingdom commission?”

“No,” I say, smiling. “It’s about you.”

“Oh yeah?” He sounds equal parts intrigued and concerned. “Not another test?”

I twist around to face out the driver’s window, pulling my hair to one side to reveal my neck.

“You know there are two parts to a mer mark,” I say, picturing the green design at the base of my neck.

I feel the heat of Quince’s fingertips an instant before he begins tracing the design. “The waves on the outside,” he says, drawing a circle on my neck, “and the flower in the middle.”

“Exactly.” I let my hair fall back into place as I turn to face him. “The waves represent aqua respire. The ability to breathe water.”

I reach up behind Quince’s neck and touch the spot where I know he has his own circle of waves, marked in black on his tan skin.

Quince covers my hand with his.

“The flower,” I say, knowing that tears—happy ones—are right on the verge of filling my eyes, “represents aqua vide.”

“Aqua vide,” Quince repeats. “What’s that?”

“It literally means water life,” I say. “It’s what allows a merperson to transfigure between mer and terraped form. It’s what grants them the magical powers of our people.”

“Lily,” Quince says, taking his hand off mine and laying it against my cheek, “what’s this all about?”

I nod at the spot halfway down the beach where our small crowd is gathered.

“When we walk over there, Daddy is going to finish your mark,” I say. The tears spill over as I look into Quince’s Caribbean-blue eyes. “You’re going to be a merman.”

He blinks several times, and I can’t decide if he’s stunned or freaked or just confused. For the millionth time, I wish we still had the connection of the bond to answer these things for me. Then again, it’s probably better if I have to learn how to figure these things out for myself.

“Only if you want to, of course,” I say, not wanting him to feel pressured into doing this if he’s freaked. “I won’t be hurt or anything, if you don’t—”

“Are you kidding?” Quince blurts, finally breaking his silence. “What are we waiting for?”

He throws open the door and jumps out. He’s halfway across the beach by the time I climb to my feet. He turns back and, gesturing me to hurry, shouts, “Come on! I want a tailfin.”

I laugh and follow him across the sand. I hope the mer world is ready for a Quince with a tailfin. As I slip my hand into his, I know that I am. It’s about time.