How to Outswim a Shark Without a Snorkel (11 page)

Penguins don't have teeth, but they do have fleshy spines that face backward in their mouths that guide fish down their throats.

—Animal Wisdom

“These cookies taste like cardboard,” Bella announced. Her short hair was flecked with bits of flour, and there was a smear of molasses on her cheek. Ever since we'd been recruited as her “official kitchen helpers” for her upcoming bake sale at the old-age home, Kevin, Daz, and I had seen a whole new side of Bella.

And it was pretty funny.

Even though she took baking
crazy
seriously.

Daz leaped to his feet. “No, they don't!” He grabbed one from the huge pile on the counter and shoved the whole thing in his mouth. “They're
thuper
tasthy
,” he mumbled, spraying crumbs. “
Mmm, stho good!
” His eyes widened, and he nodded eagerly. I didn't miss the look of regret in his eyes as he tried to swallow.

I'd tried one of the cookies.

I'd also spat it out into a napkin when Bella wasn't looking.

Bella sighed. “They are not! They taste like sawdust and cardboard had a baby and covered it with seeds!” She threw a wadded-up paper towel into the garbage. “How am I going to feed a bunch of senior citizens these?! They'll break their dentures!” She wheeled around, staring at Kevin.

“Hey, they're not that bad. They're not quite as good as the no-bake ones, though,” he admitted. “But they really do taste okay.” He tried to nonchalantly lean away from the pile of warm cookies that Daz was offering him.

Bella pouted. It made her elfish features stand out even more. “Do you think I should add more sugar?” she asked desperately. She stirred the bowl of porridgelike goo in her hands. The mass was beginning to stick to the spoon, making it noticeably hard for her to mix. Beads of sweat were popping up over her eyebrows.

I cleared my throat. “Maybe it's best we try another recipe entirely,” I said. I gently took the bowl from her and set it on the table. I didn't know much about baking, but I was pretty sure I could recognize “edible cement” when I saw it.

Picking up the medieval cookbook, I flipped to the table of contents. “There must be something here that's super quick. Here, how about this?” I held up the picture. “What about fruit kebabs in honey? That sounds good.”

“That will spoil, I think,” Bella said dully.

I kept flipping, while Kevin leaned over my shoulder to read. A buzz of heat ran through my face. Did he
know
how close he was? I mean, I could just turn my head and…

“Hey,” he said. He pointed to the page, brushing his hand against mine.

Stay
cool.

“How about this?” he asked. “Candied sweet potatoes.” He looked up to Bella for her opinion.

She chewed on her lip. “Do you think that would be good? Sounds kind of…” she trailed off.

“Like candied potatoes,” Daz offered, his nose crinkling. “No thanks.” The two of them giggled, sharing a glance.
Oh, please.
The last thing we needed now was the two of them getting all schmoopy-lovey. At least I
tried
to not trip all over Kevin, even though he looked adorable and kept smiling with that dimple in his left cheek.

“
I
think it would be good,” I said, lifting my chin. “We always have sweet potatoes with nuts and marshmallow fluff on the top at Thanksgiving. It tastes
amazing
. Plus, they wouldn't break their dentures, so…”

Daz snored. “Bor-rinnnggg.”

But Bella perked up. “You know, you might be right!” She wiped the molasses on her cheek and grimaced. “Sweet potatoes could work, and I know we have a lot of them in the pantry. Hold on a sec.” She scurried off to grab the potatoes. “At least there are no seeds in them!” she yelled back.

Twenty minutes later, because of Kevin's brilliant idea, the sweet potatoes were boiling on the stove. The whole kitchen smelled like cinnamon and orange zest. Bella put Daz and Kevin to work measuring spices, while the two of us kept peeling more potatoes.

“So how's it going with the man-eating monster?” Bella asked, shoving a handful of potato skins in the garbage. “And the sharks? How are they doing?” She grinned at her own joke.

For some reason, I couldn't force a laugh out of myself. “Ashley is okay,” I said. A warm feeling settled over my chest as I realized that Bella might have been right about Ashley from the start. She could just want to move on with our lives. “It's been sort of fun. We even went shopping together for swimsuits on Saturday.” I braced myself for her reaction. If I told Liv that I went shopping with Ashley, she'd probably shriek so loud she'd blow out an eardrum and accuse me of moving to the dark side.

But thankfully, Bella wasn't like that.

“That's awesome,” she said. “Maybe when school starts you guys won't hate each other so much,” she mused. “It would probably make school better.”

I stopped peeling my potato. It suddenly felt heavy in my hand. “I don't know,” I said. “It's hard to imagine her outside of the zoo, you know? I think she actually
likes
it, and it's weird to think of her being nice if she's not there.” I considered what going back to school might be like and running into Ashley in the halls. Would she go back to hating me?

A rusty orange curl of potato dropped to the counter beneath my peeler. “Actually, something sort of happened today,” I admitted. “And I'm not sure what to think.”

Bella grabbed another potato. “Something bad?”

I kept my eyes down, focusing on the bumpy skin. “There's this sea horse tank, right? And it's been Ashley's job to feed them. When we got there, though, Patricia said that
someone
had overfed them. By a lot.” I cringed.

Bella's eyes widened. “Were they okay?” She tossed another potato into a pot. “The sea horses, I mean. I always thought those things were so cute.”

“Oh! Yeah, they're going to be fine. But the point is, Ashley had been doing that job for a while now, and it was, like,
three
times
the food they need. It was weird.” I paused, feeling the shame creep up on me again without warning. “And Patricia sort of blamed me for it in a way. She said I should know better and that I should be watching out for Ashley because she's newer.”

I couldn't keep my lip from curling.

Bella tapped the peeler against her potato. “And you think maybe Ashley did it on purpose? Or…?”

I huffed. “I don't know! It just seemed sort of crummy, you know? Like, Patricia giving
me
a lecture because of something that was so clearly Ashley's fault!”

Bella nodded. “That does suck. But what if someone else put in the food?”

I lifted my shoulders. “It's only us and Patricia and Logan in there right now. It's not like Logan did it. He needs his job for school. The worst part is, Ashley wouldn't even admit that she did it. It wasn't even a
possibility
that she'd screwed up,” I mumbled.

I watched Bella carefully, trying to read her reaction. But in true Bella fashion, she kept her opinions hidden beneath her thoughtful face. Finally, she wiped her hands on her apron. “It sounds to me like Ashley made an honest mistake,” she said. “But she didn't want to admit it.”

I brightened. “You think? I don't really know what to do. I
like
that we can sort of hang out together now and Ashley isn't a horrible monster. But if she's going to be sneaking around trying to mess things up for me—”

“No, I don't think that's it at all,” Bella interrupted. “If it was her in charge of feeding them, and no one else can get in there, it
had
to be her mistake. She's probably afraid to fess up because she feels dumb messing up in front of you.”

My jaw dropped. “In front of
me
? You have to be kidding. I'm
always
messing up!”

“Ain't that the truth!” Daz yelped suddenly from the living room. Now that the spices were organized, he and Kevin had abandoned the kitchen. I was fairly certain they were building a robot, by the clinking and ripping sounds going on out there. I glared at him while Bella giggled.
Stupid
boys.

“I mean it!” Bella said. “Think about it. At school, she's super popular and can pretty much do whatever she wants and she's still going to be cool. But at the zoo? That's your territory.” She set the pot of potatoes over by the sink and made bunny quotes in the air with her fingers. “The granddaughter of the
great
Shep Foster!”

I made a face.

“It's true! I remember when I first found out I was a little freaked,” she admitted.

“You were?” That didn't seem like Bella at all. She was too busy being stealthy behind her atlases and notebooks at school to worry about me.

“Definitely. But then I got to know you and realized that even though your grandpa is famous, you're still pretty much a basket case.” She elbowed me teasingly.

“Ha. Ha.”

“You done with those potatoes yet? It's almost time to switch them! This batch is done!” Daz called over again. He and Kevin appeared with a tissue-box monster they'd made that had a paper-towel-roll minion, with forks for legs. It was beyond me how Daz could make fun of me for sketching in a notebook “like a loser” (his words), but here he was basically making craft monsters like a bizarre boy version of Martha Stewart.

“We'd better make sure they don't mess this up.” Bella sighed, pulling her bowl of potatoes from the counter.

As I dumped the steaming hot potatoes into the colander, I thought Bella was probably right about Ashley—it was an honest mistake, and I could make things a whole lot better between us by letting it go. Already the weight of the whole thing seemed to be lifting away from me.

“You okay?” Kevin asked, as I helped Bella add sugar and cloves into the pot of potatoes. “You seem a little distracted.” His hair was doing that supercute “flip-into-his-eyes” thing that made my heart tap-dance.

“I'm okay now,” I said, smiling. “Just trying to avoid the potato sauna.” I blew at the hot steam, pushing thoughts of Ashley out of my head.

“Don't forget,” Daz announced. He had a stick of cinnamon tucked behind his ear like a pen, trying to look official. There was a haughty grin on his face. “Tomorrow. The old-age center.
We
ride
at
dawn!
” He lifted his fist to the air and hooted like a warrior.

Bella shook her head, trying not to giggle. “Actually it's not till 6:00 p.m.,” she said quietly. “And we don't have to, uh…ride. We just need to show up so you can all help me set up.”

Daz blinked. “
At
dawn!
”

Kevin and I ignored him. “We'll be there,” I promised. “I'll even bring some art stuff, so we can make up some cool signs for you.”

Kevin nodded. “You've got my calculator for sales,” he said.

“
And
my
ax!
” Daz bellowed.

Sometimes staying sane with my brother around is like trying to whistle with a mouthful of crackers.

Impossible.

And messy.

Clown fish are immune to sea anemone stings because they are protected by a layer of mucus.

—Animal Wisdom

The next day felt like the summer had turned a brand-new page. Usually, I wake up when Darwin climbs on my head and shoves his bird butt in my face.

But today? There was nothing but the sun streaming through my curtains, along with that warm-fruity-cantaloupe breeze that only happens on those
perfect
summer days when there are
no
bird butts in your face. Somehow, the air felt
bigger
in my lungs.

It was heaven.

It's funny how some girl talk and a good night of sleep can make the world seem sane again. Even the lions outside my window seemed extra mellow, rolling over onto their backs and pawing at the air like gigantic kittens as I peered out at them.

I was still feeling good when I showed up at the Adventure Zone that morning. Even Patricia seemed to be extra happy, and there was no sign on her face that she was still upset about the sea horse incident. All was forgotten, and Ashley showed up looking as normal and sparkly as ever, with her hair up in a poofy bun and gold earrings in her ears.

It was actually nice to see she was okay, and I felt a surge of happiness knowing I didn't write about the awful sea horse thing in my notebook.

Everybody had bad days, right?

“I've got a glamorous job for you ladies today,” Patricia said when I walked into the locker room. By the look of her devious grin I could tell that
glamour
probably wasn't the right word for it. Hopefully it wouldn't involve poop. That was the last thing I wanted on a non-bird-butt day like this.

Ashley looked up. “More memorizing notes?” she asked, holding up her notebook. “My notebook is practically full.”

“Nope,” Patricia said. “Once you're done with your regular feedings, we just got some extra shells in for the education tables. That's the good news.”

“And the bad news?” I asked. Please don't say we have to clean them or something else totally boring.

Patricia winked. “The bad news is, they're not sorted. And they need to be.” She pulled out a chart from her back pocket, unfolding the paper. Shells of different shapes and colors were drawn all over, categorized by type.

“That's a lot of shells,” Ashley said, dumbfounded. “I thought shells were just…shells?” She took the poster and examined it.

“Then this will be good for you.” Patricia patted her on the back. “Can't have a shark girl thinking all shells are the same, can we? I need you girls to clean them off, sort through them, and put them in the right containers. They're already set up here.” She showed us over to the education table and pointed out the rows of bowls, each labeled with a variety of shell names. “Everything from angel wings to scallops to murex shells is in here,” she said proudly.

“What's a murex shell?” Ashley asked. She peered over to look into the empty container.

“That's for you to find out!” Patricia said, waving us to work.

After doing our usual chores and feedings, Ashley and I grabbed some chairs, parked ourselves at the table, and gawked at the forty gazillion shells in front of us.

“Did you have any idea that there were so many
shells
?” Ashley asked, narrowing her eyes at a pearly pink scallop shell. She cleaned it with a damp paper towel and checked the legend on the chart, putting it in its proper place.

It's funny how you don't realize that there are different versions of your own life. There's the version where you worry about people spilling chicken parm on you at lunch. Then there's the life where you sit with your sworn enemy and sort shells. I know which one
I
liked better.

Once Ashley and I got down to business, a calm settled over the room. The crystal blue water of the tanks around us reflected bright lights and shadows along the blue walls, and the raucous sounds of the zoo outside became silent. All we could hear was the gentle hum of the tanks. There were no weird questions about boys. There were no sea horse emergencies. There were no kiss pacts. Just two girls who might possibly be friends and a bucket of shells.

“So has this summer made you want to be a mermaid or what?” Ashley said a little while later, stretching her arms above her head. She yawned widely.

I shook my head. “It's really fun, but I'm more of a crocodile girl,” I said. I double-checked a lightning whelk and set it into its pile. “There's a lot less teeth with these things, at least.” I held up another shell to the light. “Hey, look how cool this one is.” I handed her a shiny, spirally shell with cool ridges. “I think it's a…” I looked down again at the legend.

“Brown-band wentletrap,” Ashley finished for me. “I
like
that there's nothing here to bite us today,” she said, smirking. Her eyes were brighter than I'd ever seen them. Maybe this was all some strange sea-magic making her nice. I didn't want it to end. I was starting to realize that being enemies was
tiring
.

“Oh! First murex shell!” I held it up. “Now we're officially smart enough to be here.” I laughed. Ashley took it to examine it.

“Wow,” she breathed. “Think Patricia would let me take one home?” She held it to the light.

“I don't know,” I said. “Hang on.” I dug around the pile some more, coming up with a handful of other murex shells. “It's not the only one. I don't think she'd mind. I won't tell her,” I added in a hushed voice.

Ashley beamed, pocketing the shell.

“This thing says that some shells are either left- or right-handed,” she said. Flipping a junonia shell in her hands, she furrowed her brows. “But how the heck can you tell? Is this left-handed?” She held up the shell. “Or this?” she asked, swiveling it around.

I looked at the diagram. It was a confusing mess of arrows and counterclockwise this and clockwise that, wrapped around a 3-D image of a shell. “Uh, pretty sure the only way you can tell if they're right- or left-handed is to hand them a pen.” I snorted.

Ashley rolled her eyes, but that didn't stop her from laughing. I pocketed a periwinkle shell because I liked the name. It was almost like it tickled your tongue to say it.

We sorted shells like that for what seemed like hours, but it had been only forty-five minutes by the time the last shell was in its pile. Ashley was happier than I'd ever seen her. Of course, she got even happier when Logan appeared behind us.

“Look at you!” he said, leaning over to check out the shell piles. “Didn't you guys just get here? How did you finish sorting so quickly?”

A blossom of pride grew inside me, seeing how impressed he was.

Ashley sat straighter and brushed her hair from her face. “We're talented, I guess,” she said. Then her face dropped when she saw Danielle tagging along behind him. Her dark ponytail swung behind her like a pendulum as she moved.

“Hey, girls! Great to see you!” Her voice was weird and too familiar, like she was trying to make it sound like we'd been friends forever. Ashley must have noticed too because she quirked her eyebrow at me in question.

“Hi, Danielle,” I said, forcing myself to be polite. Just because she got to hang off a Sun God didn't mean I could be rude to her.

Even though I kind of wanted to stick out my tongue out of spite.

“How have you girls been lately?” she asked, slipping her hand into Logan's. I tried not to stare as her fingertips tightened around his hand. “It's been ages since I've seen you!” She dragged the words out as a whine, acting like she was upset about it. Was she trying to look good in front of Logan or what?

“Oh, you know,” I said. “Working hard, sorting shells.” I pointed to our growing display.

“We had to learn what
all
of these shells are,” Ashley said curtly, settling back in her chair and crossing her arms.

Logan whistled. “That's a lot,” he admitted. “Pretty sure if it doesn't have teeth, I won't be able to remember its name.” He exaggerated a frown as Danielle reached up and poked his shoulder.

“That's because you're obsessed with your
sharks
.” She giggled.

Oh Lord, not with the giggling now.

I glanced at Ashley and rolled my eyes the teensiest bit so only she could see. I was starting to see why Ashley had called her a two-face. There
was
something about her that seemed
too
something.
Too nice? Too interested? Too
sparkly
? Why was she here so much anyway? Could she not bear to be away from Logan for that long or what?

Logan continued. “Well, you must be doing a great job. I've heard nothing but good things from Patricia. You must be psyched for Saturday, huh?” he said, leaning in close so he could fake-whisper without Patricia hearing. It made his hair fall over his eyes exactly the way Kevin's does that makes my heart go into a little spasmy-beat-skip thing.

I fumbled with another murex shell and dropped it into place in its jar.

Danielle kept yammering. “You guys should be so proud. Seriously, when I was your age, there was no way I'd be able to do something with so much responsibility.”

There was a weird intense glimmer in her eyes as she spoke. What did Logan see in this girl anyway? Besides the whole porcelain-skin, Pantene-commercial-hair thing, I mean.

Logan wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “We should get out of here, babe. I'm sure these two want to get their lunch.”

“Bye, guys!” Ashley said, eyeing the door so Danielle would get the hint.

Logan gave us a thumbs-up as he went through the door to the back room with Danielle in tow. “You're going to be a great team for the kids,” he added.

At least I think that's what he said because I might have gotten a little distracted by the way he held the door for Danielle like a gentleman on their way out.

“Thanks!” Ashley said. “I think so too.”

Were
we a good team?

“Oh my God, that guy is hot,” Ashley whispered, leaning back to fan herself with one of the shell pamphlets. Now that Logan was gone, the super-chill attitude was gone, replaced with a fan-girly giggly mess.

“Right?!” I laughed with her. “I think I see your point though about Danielle,” I said quietly. “She seems sort of…”

“Yeah,” Ashley said smugly. “Told you. That girl is trouble.”

I shrugged. “Well, she is if
you
want to marry him, that's for sure,” I pointed out with a smile.

Ashley bared her teeth in annoyance. “Sometimes boys make things a lot more difficult than they need to be,” she said haughtily.

I thought about Kevin, and how even though it was
possible
he liked me back, it was still like trying to see the future through grape jelly to find out for sure or figure out if I would
ever
get to kiss him. Suddenly the summer seemed like it would be over in seconds, and the kiss pact deadline would be long gone. I'd be left behind as Liv crossed over into “I've-kissed-a-boy” territory.

“No arguments there,” I admitted.

Since when did Ashley and I agree on so much?