Mermaids, Trigonometry, and Everything In Between

The 34th Thing

**Seb's POV**

We absolutely crushed the Chimeras. They ran off with their tails between their legs like they'd never played a game of soccer in their lives. Honestly, I wasn't rattled at the beginning. It was like this sort of intuition that we would win, and when we did I took it with grace.

After everything, I was screwing off with Max, who had wolfed. He always liked showing off like that. Nice silver coat, definitely a lot easier on the eyes in wolf form than human. I knew he was happy about us winning. Even if he barely touched the ball. But the whole transformation?

That was for the sophomore mermaid sitting on the bench with her ankle all bandaged up. I had an inkling he was trying to impress her. I had noticed him glance her way once or twice yesterday after practice. Then, I noticed how he talked about her non stop for over an hour back in our room, even after I tried to suffocate him with a pillow.

It's the subtle things you pick up on.

We were pretty far from the field when I looked back. I'm not sure who I was looking for--probably wondering if Stella was watching us--but the girls had cleared out.

In any case, this game wasn't the win I was counting on. I had a gut feeling we would win. Just like I had a gut feeling that a certain other team would also win.

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. Or should I say dog?" Caulfield's blood-rich voice pierced the dusky atmosphere.

Again with the taunts. Asher would probably say something dumb like "Bite me." and we'll all puff out our chests like its witty and not questionably racist.

"Isn't there an empty coffin somewhere waiting for you, Dracula?" Asher scoffed out. Ooh. Cultured.

"Aw don't growl at me, pup. Just making sure our game last night didn't exhaust the fans too much for your game today. Hope at least a few made it."

Asher stifled a laugh, "Still the most popular sport of the season. I'm surprised anyone made it to your 3am snoozefest--I mean game."

I zoned out a bit as they battled wits. Now, it was jam packed with butthurt sentiments, but I picked up on the general dialogue that passed between them, which went, in regular people talk, something like:

Us: "How did you do?"

Them: "How did YOU do?"

Us: "You first"

Them: "No, YOU"

Us: "We did amazeballs"

Them: "Well so did WE."

Us: "So who won the bet?"

Them: "..."

Us: "..."

(Pause for dramatic effect)

Them: "We got ~s i x~ touchdowns"

(We are in shock, but we pull ourselves together and act like we are the coolest kids in the entire world)

Us: "We. Scored. Seven."

(Ensue chaos)

I should be happier, and don't get me wrong, I am happy. I'm relieved that Asher isn't hosting a party at the family summer home in town, which would have been so far under the 'rents noses, it would have reached the coffins that Caulfield's gang sleep in during the day. I'm a little cocky that a freshman like me has something to lord over everyone else.

But we beat the vamps, and I should be at least a little happier. But all it means is another party at Caulfield's family country club. I'd been to one before, and all those pale-skinned, flaxen-haired night dwellers were a little too much for my blood. Literally.

And in any case, there's something about blondes that throws me off.

There's always something about blondes.