When there’s no reply, I rush to figure out how to save him. There’s the platform that I walked on to get positioned in the dunk tank, just above the rickety metal seat. If I could get up there, I could see over the edge, down into the ocean. With legs, getting up there would be easy, but of course, I don’t have mine right now. I never thought I’d be pissed about having a fin, but in this disgusting chlorinated water, my lousy flicking fin is all I’ve got.

My mind goes into crisis mode, flooding with options. I could try to leap from this tank, but there’s not enough room in it to get the right thrust. I’d pull myself up from the dunk tank seat if it wasn’t still flopping uselessly against the side. I need something to lift me up.

“Dude, did you see that? I think a kid just fell in? Or am I seriously wasted?” The drunk person who set my transformation going is pointing over the railing and nudging their buddies.

“No, man, that kid fell in and you’re seriously wasted,” another one says, and they all actually laugh when Sean could be drowning as they speak. But even if they’re complete and total idiots, they’re complete and total idiots who might be able to help.

“Hey! Blowholes!”

That’s all it takes to get their attention.

“Ha! Blowholes! Get it? Because he’s a mermaid!”

For Blue’s sake, I can’t believe I’m about to ask these dickbags for help.

“Lift me out of this thing, will you?!”

They stomp their way up the dunk tank steps, two of them bending down to reach my outstretched arms, and hoist me to the edge of the platform.

I scoot myself along the dirty and dented metal to look under the railing at the Blue below.

“Oh, flick.”

Sean bobs along in the water, completely unconscious. The waves coming in are getting bigger, batting his body around, his arms and legs flailing limply. One wrong swell and his body could be smashed into the cement pylons holding up the pier. He could bash his head in. He could drown at any second.

I look up into the sky. The sun is creeping toward the horizon, but it’s not close enough. There’s still minutes until it sinks below the waterline. Minutes until I can go in and turn back into a merperson. Minutes until I go back to the life that I know I can’t leave behind, even if I do unexpectedly love Sean. If I jump in now, I’ll be stuck as a human forever. But if I don’t, those minutes are all it could take for Sean to die.

It’s not even a choice.

I flip around, my tail pointing toward the water.