"You clueless jellyfish. My people would have you thrown into the Great Abyss to prevent you from mating and creating more dull-witted minnows. No wonder these sea cucumbers are so simple." 
 This book was absurd and silly. I'm not saying that it's a ridiculous book because it prominently features nonexistent mermaids and sea folks at all. In reading, there is this thing called willing suspension of disbelief, meaning that the reader will pretend that a book's subject matter is plausible, no matter how outlandish the topic. And that's not to mention the giant gaping plot holes. 
 Of course, willing suspension of disbelief only apply when the topic itself is written in a way that is credible. This book's subject matter is not, the way the mythical creatures were portrayed were so outrageously silly as to seem completely imaginary. Not for a single moment did I feel immersed in the story. The book's plot doesn't hold water. Pun intended. 
 The plotline read like a middle-grade book. In fact, I found this Disney book taking place under the sea, with no end to the puns it contains, a few steps away from A Little Mermaid so much more plausible and enjoyable than this book. 
 I can't relate to the main character at all, but I will give it to Mr. Buckley that he writes a better (and less annoying) female than a number of YA female authors. Every single character is a cliche, you will find no originality in any of them, from the edgy, "different" main character to the brooding love interest, to the mean girls. Her best friend is a spunky, annoying bitch of a caricature whom I immediately hated...and speaking from one who had her own beloved spunky, fiery best friend at one point. There's a difference between wilful and fiery and fun, then there's just being a gigantic grating bitch. 
 "Don't act all offended. You're a notorious slut, Ms. Carnal Coney Island." 
 The best friend in this book, to me, is the latter. 
 The premise is an interesting one, there are sea creatures on Earth, hidden from us all these years. Out of nowhere, 30,000 of them walk right out of the sea and into our lives. Landfolks ain't happy (no shit), and now in an attempt at getting along, the high-school aged fishy folks are going to be integrated into our school, reminiscent of Brown vs. Board of Education, in which black students were allowed to attend schools which were previously white-only. 
 Naturally, this creates a lot of fucking tension. Coney Island wasn't a nice place to begin with... 
 The Chinese hated the Japanese, and the Jamaicans hated the Koreans, and the Mexicans hated the African Americans, and the Russians hated the Orthodox Jews, and the white people hated all of them. And sometimes, on very hot days, someone got stabbed because of the flag on his car. If America is a melting pot, Coney Island is the overcooked crusty stuff on the bottom of the pan. 
 (I can testify that the whole Chinese hates the Japanese thing is true, but I can't say whether everything else is, being a West-Coast-er). But in the middle of this clusterfuck, you have fish folks added to the mix. 
 Like the aforementioned integration attempt, there are numerous protests outside of the school. People are literally up in arms. Violence ensues. A bitch of a governor, Bachman...a little similar to the actual Governor Bachmann, and given that I'm no fan of the real-life governor, I have no objection to this caricature. 
 And the biggest, meanest, shrillest of them all, Governor Bachman, is back in a fresh blue business suit and a brand-new megaphone. 
 There is no good reason why the fuck these people have emerged from the sea after all these years, these supremely powerful people, to live among a bunch of humans who are, frankly, disgusting, racist, and idiotic. 
 I didn't like their reason for going on land. I didn't like the human's reactions to the fish folks. I don't know about you, but I didn't think our reaction to the emergence of fish folks from the sea was realistic. Listen, this is fucking 'Murica. We have (and I'm not saying I agree at all) enough problem with immigrants. Mention the Mexico borders and watch the blood fly. So if we have enough problem with, um, HUMAN immigrants, why are we reaction so relatively calmly to the alien ones? 
 For fuck's sakes, there are only 30,000 of them. KILL THEM ALL. *ahem* 
 The inclusion of news articles from the New York Post, Mother Jones, and the Daily Beast just made me laugh because it was so silly. 
 Then there's the gigantic plot hole. 
 These creatures are highly claustrophobic. 
 "It is the ceiling that troubles me," he says. "I am not used to having something over my head." 
 Yet they allow themselves to be imprisoned in a tent city, packed together like sardines in a can. Pun intended. 
 Now it's the home of a massive tent city inhabited by thirty thousand immigrants who call themselves the Alpha, or the First Men. They have a similar fence, guarded by two hundred National Guard members. 
 The sea people in this book are unoriginal. There are the warrior-like Nix, and the *yawn* Sirena. So very generic. 
 She was a vision of hotness, but most Sirena are. They're the closest to what people think of when you think mermaid--long flowing hair, beautiful face, flawless body--but when they're on land they lose their tails and at first glance are as human as everyone else. 
 Their speech is laughable. The Nix can't be counted on to say anything without yelling and grunting in a Thor-like manner, and it's so very sad that these imaginary creatures fit the image of every single image the humans have had of mythical sea monsters and creatures since the beginning of time. Really. So dull. 
 I've read reviews that raved about how fast-paced and action-packed this book is. I'm glad others have enjoyed it, but the book just dragged on endlessly for me.