I can't wait. Months of crossed fingers, doubt-ridden smiles, and whispered worries have led to this day. This sunset. Now that it's almost here, I can't wait. Not any longer.

But I can't control the sun either. I may be immortal now, but I have no true power over time. All I can do is squeeze Clay's hand and feel his fingers interlace with mine.

"Almost," he murmurs in my ear, his breath like the warm California breeze that sweeps over us, rippling the blue water so it glints silver-white in the sunlight.

My family's saltwater swimming pool features a disappearing edge like a waterfall that looks as if it flows seamlessly into the Pacific Ocean below. My sisters and cousin all swim in listless circles, their jewel-toned tails swishing beneath them, their lovely faces creased with concern they try to hide. But I'm not in the pool. I'm sitting on a lounger in my bikini, my legs in place and ready to run down to the beach at a moment's notice. Next to me sits Clay, fully dressed and looking strangely out of place in his trademark ripped jeans, band t-shirt, and Doc Martens.

We both stare at the late-July sun as it starts its slow descent toward the waves. Up here, in the backyard of my family's Malibu estate, we're safe from prying eyes. The beach below may be private, but our neighbors can still see it from their windows, and not all of them are members of our Community of land-dwelling Mer. To stay hidden from our neighbors' view, nothing will rise from the waves until darkness cloaks the sandy shores.

I don't know if the thought of what will happen when something does rise fills me more with excitement or with dread.

My sisters attempt pleasant small talk as the sky shifts from blue to pale pink, then from pink to a brilliant, stabbing orange. The sun dips lower, painting the waves that same orange as seagulls fly by, their black silhouettes floating against the sweeping sky. I can't follow my sisters' conversation — not with my legs jiggling and my stomach jumping. After what feels like hours, the orange fades to deep indigo, and then the only light falling on the water comes from stars that dot the sky like firefish.

Now, no one speaks. Everyone's gaze is riveted to where the water laps at the beach.

My cousin Amethyst, who we all call Amy, is the first to see them. "There!" she shouts, pointing into the darkness.

My breath catches in my throat as four muscled figures emerge from the waves in a perfect line, followed by four more directly behind them. Staying in formation, eight of the largest Mermen I've ever seen march forward out of the water, swaths of wet fabric tied around their waists like sarongs now that muscular legs have replaced their tails. Each one carries a spear carved from walrus tusk.

My sisters make a mad dash out of the pool and into their legs, but I'm already running to the wooden stairs that lead from our yard down the steep hill to the beach. I race from one step to the next, Clay close behind me.

By the time I reach the sand, the lines of soldiers have split down the middle to reveal the two people they have guarded all the way up from the deep.

A huge smile splits across my face. My parents. Finally.

My mother's gaze lands on me, and warmth suffuses her normally reserved expression. I wrap my arms around her, then my father.

"Hey, angelfish," he says, voice as jovial as ever, and squeezes me into a wet hug. It's still strange not to feel the soft cushiness of his potbelly. Stepping back, I'm struck again by how much my parents have changed. In my head, I still picture them the way they were before their immortality was restored. Gone are my middle-aged parents with their crow's feet and worry lines. In their place stand two people who look the way my parents must have looked when they were first married. This is how it's supposed to be, I remind myself, but it's hard for me to believe. I grew up thinking all Mer would age and die like humans do because two hundred years ago, the Little Mermaid cursed us all.

Her real story isn't all songs and smiles. She fell in love with a human prince and made a deal with a Sea Sorceress — not to get legs (like humans think) but to permanently banish her tail so her prince would never find out what she was. As part of the bargain, she traded her voice and agreed that if the prince married anyone but her, she'd die at the first sunrise after his wedding day. It seemed like things would go her way, until the prince chose to marry a human princess instead of her. The Sea Sorceress offered the Little Mermaid a chance to restore her tail: She could take the sorceress's obsidian dagger and kill her beloved prince. When his blood dripped onto her legs, they'd transform into a tail and she could return to her family in the ocean, an immortal Mermaid once again. But the Little Mermaid couldn't do it. She loved the prince so much, she chose her own death instead. She dropped the powerful dagger into the sea, and the instant it touched the water, it unleashed a curse. Because the Little Mermaid had valued a human life above her own immortality, she cursed all Merkind with human lifespans.

But this past spring, in an effort to save each other's lives, Clay and I broke that curse and restored immortality to all the Mer. Including my parents. Centuries ago, before the curse, Mer stopped aging in their mid-twenties, which we call reaching stasis. When we broke the curse, my parents and all adult Mer reverted to their stasis ages. Now, after I've gone two months without seeing them, the changes in their appearance seem even more startling. Thank the tides their smiles are still the same, or I may not have recognized them.

When they see Clay next to me, my father claps him on the shoulder.

My mother surprises me by smiling at him. "It was good of you to come."

I guess risking his life to save mine and breaking a centuries-old curse on our entire species have steered Clay into warmer waters with my parents.

Clay clears his throat. "Willkime haun!" He's been bugging me to teach him Mermese expressions, but I'm not the best (or most patient) teacher and, through no fault of his own, Clay's pronunciation is terrible. My parents exchange a confused glance as he reddens, but tries again. "Wilcom home?" He pronounces the words more clearly this time, but not by much. Lapis and Lazuli, my twin sisters who have just run up behind us, hear his words and hide identical grins behind their hands. My parents catch on.

"Thank you," my mother says in impeccable Mermese, the lilting words dancing across the night air the way they would through the deep ocean if we were Below. With its combination of melodic sounds that glide along the water and high-pitched notes that pierce through it, Mermese is the only language not muffled under the waves.

"We're glad to be back," my father says, switching the conversation back to English. Clay flashes a relieved smile.

"And we're soooo glad you're back," Amy says, her strawberry blond hair flying behind her as she races toward them next to my oldest sister Emeraldine and demands hugs of her own. I let out a breath as I step back, glad to let the others pull my parents' focus. Once their eyes are off me, I roll my neck to relieve some tension.

While Em pecks both my parents on the cheek and fills them in about what they've missed at the Foundation, Clay whispers, "How was I?" in my ear.

"They really appreciated the effort. I could tell," I...