I suppose the planets must be in alignment and that the Glorious Goddess Gaia is in a good mood, because today is our first Life Drawing and Sculpting class at West Marin High. At least we get to have class outside on the beach! The sun is fat and yellow today. We are in a semi-circle facing the water, each of us in a chair with an easel and oil pastels.

Mermaids are not known for their drawing and painting skills. Graphite and watercolors and such don't work that well in an ocean setting.

Pierce is next to me, his paper half-covered in confident strokes, his fingers stained with color. Pickles is on my other side. She has zapped all her pastels so they sparkle, and now the colors won't stick to the paper. They lift off and rearrange themselves into spiral galaxies. Meaning, her drawing looks nothing like our volunteer model—Cupid.

The god of love is lying on his side across a boulder, his important 'parts' swathed in nothing but seaweed. The only other thing he's wearing is his bow tie, which he refuses to remove. He thinks it makes him look 'fetching.'

He and the teacher, Gloria (short for The Glorious Goddess Gaia—the one who wears mud and leaves), got into a big argument when we first started about motifs and artistic integrity and freedom of expression, and after a while, my eyes glazed over because I had absolutely no idea what they were talking about.

All I know is that I wouldn't want to piss off this goddess. But Cupid doesn't care at all. He keeps smirking at her. I think he might get detention.

I'm still working on Cupid's torso. I'm trying to get his pectoral muscle just right because it is perfectly defined and gorgeous and deserves a decent rendering. It's good to think this without worrying that Pierce can hear my thoughts. Thank Poseidon that nightmare is over. He is never, ever, ever tasting my blood again.

Pierce looks at my work and frowns.

"Why are you making that face?" I say.

"What face?"

"Give me a break, Knightguard. This is my first try."

Gloria walks behind us and leans over to get a better look at my work. A plop of mud lands on my thigh. (I'm wearing my first pair of shorts, courtesy of Pickles!) I try to wipe it off surreptitiously, but only end up making it worse, as my fingers are coated with flesh-toned pastels.

"Very nice, Miss Fishwater," she says.

"Thanks," I say. I'm practically beaming now. Maybe this whole vampire school thing will work out! After Gloria's encouragement and the party last night on the yacht when everyone was so nice to me, I'm starting to think maybe the school year won't be an exercise in humiliation.

"Miss McPhee?" Gloria is frowning at Pickles.

"Yes?" Pickles says.

"Please control your artwork. We cannot have the oils running amok. Remember, this is your creation, and your materials must bend to your will!"

"Thank you, Miss Gloria," Pickles says. "I'll try."

Suddenly, Gloria takes off running to the other side of the semi-circle. Fintan has set his paper on fire for the third time. Little flecks of ash rain down on us. I wipe them from my paper and end up smudging Cupid's belly button.

"Poor Fintan," Pickles says. "He doesn't mean to set stuff on fire."

"How do you know, Pickles?" I say.

"He told me at the party. I'm going over to talk to him," Pickles says, getting up and leaving before I can grill her (I mean inquire politely) about what happened at the party with Fintan.

I turn back to my own creation, chewing on my lip intensely while concentrating on the belly button repair.

Pierce's gaze sends chills along my neck. I pull up the collar of the flannel shirt I stole from his room last night before I went to bed. I only took it because it smelled like him, and he really should be more vigilant about his stuff. Out of the corner of my eye, I can tell he's totally scowling at me like he's just had a giant goblet of curdled blood.

I should ignore Pierce right now, so I pick up the yellow pastel and take another look at Cupid's chest to make sure I'm getting the highlight of the sun glimmering on his perfectly tanned god skin just right. Cupid winks at me. I smile back, just because I know it'll make Pierce mad, and also because Cupid's mischievousness is hard to resist.

I look at Pierce's picture and notice he has drawn devil horns on Cupid's head. I can't help smiling. I've never had anyone jealous over me before, and it makes me so happy!

"What happened to Shelly?" asks Vang Cunningham, a vampire from the cabin next to ours. "No one's seen her since the party."

"She's been at the infirmary since the party," I say. "Headmaster Crumpet told us that Chiron is treating her for 'acute aquatic overexposure.' It makes no sense, though."

Pickles has returned to her chair and rummages through her lunch basket until she extracts a perfect red apple. She's totally given up on containing her artwork. It is drawing itself now. Her Cupid now looks a little like a golden-haired manatee. "Why doesn't it make sense?" Pickles asks, taking a huge bite out of her apple.

I gaze out at the bay. "How does a mermaid get sick from the water? It's like a bird being allergic to air or a lion suffering in the savannah."

Pickle's brushstrokes leave the canvas and dart through the air like tiny projectiles. Vang leaps from his chair. "Hey! Cut it out!" With vampire speed, he bats the colors away from his paper. Some of them land in the bay, some on the sand, but a couple splat on Cupid's bare chest.

"What in Hades, Vang?" Cupid rolls into the water, trying to wipe the oil pastels off of his chest. "I'll never get that seaweed draping to match now!"

"Miss McPhee!" Gloria is super exasperated.

"Stop already!" Pickles commands. The colors stop their shenanigans and zip back to her paper, splatting down in utter chaos. Her artwork looks like a horror scene of smashed pumpkins, shattered glass, and broken dreams.

Pickles exhales really loud like she's totally frustrated.

"Okay, class. Back to work now," says Gloria, clapping her hands. "Before the light changes. Cupid, honestly!" She zaps a flesh-toned bathing suit on him as he climbs back onto his rock.

"Prude," Cupid says under his breath, as if whispering does any good with thirteen pairs of supernatural ears nearby.

Cupid has regrouped on his rock with a similar seaweed draping, but the bow tie is now in his hair. He smirks. "At least it's not around my neck," he says guilelessly.

"I can move it there for you," Pierce offers.

"Thanks, bro, but I think I'll keep you and my neck in separate realms."

I laugh, and Pierce gives me a dirty look. I smile at him, then turn to Pickles. Her creation is so horrific, I might actually throw up. "Pickles, honey, I know it's not your fault, but I wish you'd sort out your ... uh ... drawing," I say.

"Yes, Waverly," she says giddily.

Why is she so happy?

Pickles throws the half-eaten apple back into her basket, grabs her wand, and waves it over the paper. Now the drawing is so perfect, it's almost like a photograph of Cupid. It's even got the smears of sparkly color on his chest that didn't come off in the water.

"Wow, Pickles! That's brilliant!"

"Thanks for wishing," Pickles says.

"What?" Oh.

"Your wish gave me the power I needed to fix it."

Ugh! Pretty soon, I'm going to have to break Pickles' heart and tell her she's not allowed to fairy godmother me, but I can't do it yet; she just gets so elated every time she gets to do stuff for me. I'll just have to remember not to wish for anything!

Turns out, I had that thought a few seconds too soon, because at that moment, who should emerge from the surf but my own father. Don't get me wrong, I love my father, but no teenager wants her dad showing up to her class like she's a fingerling. And definitely no teenager wants her dad showing up at her class naked, any time, ever! Urgh!

I let out a breath and relax a little when I see he is wearing a rain poncho that falls to his knees. At least I don't have to bury myself in the sand.

"Gil," says Gloria. She's actually batting her eyelashes. For the first time, I notice that you can see every curve of Gloria's body beneath the thin layer of mud and speckling of leaves.

"Hello, Gloria," he says. "May I borrow Waverly for a moment?"

"You may! She is an excellent artist. Very focused."

"Thank you, Gloria. Waverly?"

I really don't like the look on his face. My stomach is churning. "What happened?" I telepathically ask him.

"Everyone is going to be okay," he says back to me. I follow him up the path toward the main campus, the ferns swishing against my bare legs, leaves crunching beneath my flip-flops. "Just follow me."

Once we get out of supernatural hearing range, he stops. We're on a bluff that juts over crashing waves. The saltwater spray is cold against my sun-warmed skin.

"Waverly, your mother has had to go back to Pacifica."

"What? Why? When is she leaving?"

"She's already gone, Wave. She left a little while ago."

"No," I say. "She would never leave without saying goodbye to me." My eyes fill with tears. I wipe them with the hem of Pierce's flannel shirt. Dad's solemn eyes tell me he's telling me the truth. I already miss her. Even if she is always nagging me about picking up after myself in the cave or whether I'm eating enough kelp, we are so connected; it's as if I've lost a part of myself. "What happened?"

"She hasn't been feeling well, Waverly. Her skin is itchy, and she feels a little disoriented. And then we found out today that she is ... well ... I mean ..."

"What?" I feel terrible! My mom is sick, and all I'm thinking about is myself and what I need?

"We're going to have more merbabies!" He blurts. "You're going to have new brothers and sisters!" Dad is grinning like an idiot and looking at me as if I should be high-fiving him like I did when my team won the Pacific Regional Debate Team Championship.

"No! You can't. I mean, it's been seventeen years. You guys are way too old." Gross!

His face softens into concern. "I didn't think you'd be quite so upset, Wave. You know you'll always be dear to your mom and me." He hugs me, kisses my head, then musses my hair.

"I'm not worried about that, Dad. Sheesh. Why couldn't she stay here and have the babies?"

"She hasn't been feeling well. Dr. Chiron thought it would be best if she went home immediately. I'm also going to move into the professor's quarters."

"You're not living in the bay? You love the water."

He gives me the funniest expression, then looks at his feet, avoiding my eyes. This is when it hits me. He knows something about what's going on in that cave. With all that's happened, I haven't had a chance to talk to him yet about what I saw.

"Dad," I say. "There's something I forgot to tell you. It's about this weird underwater cave."

His head snaps up, and his rainbow eyes are full of horror.