Mermaids And The Vampires Who Love Them

The humid air of the Florida coastline clung to Waverly like a second skin, a familiar embrace she was about to leave behind. Her fins, tucked meticulously into waterproof, magically-sealed leggings, felt a strange flutter as she gazed at the vast, shimmering ocean. Senior year. It was supposed to be about prom and college applications, not a sudden, bewildering transfer to some cryptic "cross-cultural" boarding school for… supernaturals.
"West Marin Heights," her mother had chirped, far too brightly, just yesterday. "A wonderful opportunity for cultural exchange, darling!"
Cultural exchange, indeed. More like a bizarre social experiment designed to test a mermaid’s patience. Especially when said mermaids happened to be the favorite snack of a certain fanged population. A shiver, not from the breeze, traced down her spine. The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery oranges and purples, a farewell she hadn't asked for. Tomorrow, a plane, and then… a school full of things that went bump in the night. Or, worse, craved a sip of her blood.
