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remained clenched in my hand while Wave held the broken neck. Its obnoxious contents oozed into the sea. We were both shocked, as the brown liquid slowly floated before our eyes.
    There was only one thing to do. I swam after the potion and swallowed as much as I could before it diluted completely. It tasted as disgusting as it looked and it took all my effort to keep it down.
    â€œNo!” Wave shrieked, yanking me away from the potion as I struggled to cup more into my mouth.
    â€œLet go!” I cried.
    I continued swallowing the potion until I could see or smell no more.
    As I wiped gooey droplets from my mouth, I fell into a coughing fit.
    â€œAre you okay?” she cried. “I’ll call a doctor!”
    â€œNo—” I said, through coughs. “I’m all right.”
    The sludge left a muddy tingling sensation in mymouth and throat, all the way to my stomach, which felt like I’d eaten rotten snails. We hung, motionless, like two stingrays, waiting for the metamorphosis. Would the transformation be instant? Would it take days? I didn’t know.
    I stared up at the clock. Seconds became minutes. I finally sat down. The tension was too great and I pulled out MerMusic magazine and flipped through the pages. I scrubbed my teeth in the bathroom. I straightened my battery collection. Wave sat on a wooden Earthee chair chewing her nails.
    â€œLook, I’m still a mermaid!” I exclaimed an hour later. “Satisfied?”
    â€œI knew that old woman was a crackpot!” Wave sighed, hugging me. “How could we be friends if you didn’t live in the water anymore?”
    â€œI gave away my crystal collection! I could have bought front row tickets to the Psychedelic Sponges concert.”
    â€œOr a backstage pass and autographed picture,” she teased.
    â€œI’m going back tomorrow to demand a refund.”
    â€œThink of it as a lesson,” she tried to comfort. “Mermaids belong in the ocean.”
    â€œAnd charlatans belong in the Underworld. Oh…I don’t feel so well,” I moaned, as we rode Bubbles back to my house.

Lilly
    I lay awake in bed that night, despite being exhausted from the day’s events. My round mattress hung by red vines from the ceiling, which was plastered with glow-in-the-dark suction-cupped starfish, while real sea horses swam on top of my flashy red dresser, grabbing onto the marble cone drawer handles when they wanted to rest. Banned books were stashed under my clothes in a drawer. Beneath my bed, Bubbles slept restlessly as if she’d swallowed the potion, too.
    I lay awake wondering about Earth life. We knew that Earthees had legs, and we had fins. Similar, but different. But how different could they be, really, on the inside?
    Above my bedroom, above Pacific Reefs, far above the surface of the water, the crescent moon shone two hundred thousand miles away in the starry sky. But I still had fins, just like all my friends who’d drunk Shark Attacks or frog juice tonight—and not a rancid-tasting potion that cost a crystal fortune. But maybe it was best it hadn’t worked. Maybe Earth was too dangerous, as Waverly and everybody else believed.
    I closed my eyes, waiting for sleep, thankful that Madame Pearl was an impostor after all, and wondered how I was going to tell my mother I’d lost great-grandfather’s silver necklace.

Spencer
    A t 7:30 A.M . I stood by the south goalpost. This was one event I didn’t want to be late for. Not that my life was any big deal. Since my mom left my father and me when I was a kid, our house ceased being a home. I found peace only when riding the waves. I changed my hair color with my changing moods—to lift me out of a funk or cover up the fact I was in one.
    But today I sported blue spikes for a different reason, this time in celebration—in honor of the sea where we met. Because this morning was different. I awoke with a swelling of my being, that