How to Outswim a Shark Without a Snorkel (15 page)

Great white sharks can sense electric fields.

—Animal Wisdom

They say traumatic situations can give you a whole new perspective.

That's partly true, because after that whole Nair experience, you wouldn't catch me within ten feet of that evil goop again. But the part that
didn't
change about my perspective was how much I wanted to get back at Ashley. Somehow, the fiery welts on my legs had made me even angrier.

I needed to dig deep. Put on my big girl panties and all that.

So the next day, armed with a fresh set of
almost
spot free legs, I showed up to the Adventure Zone. But now things would be different. I wasn't going to kid myself this time. Ashley was a jerk. She was a two-faced pretender who tricked me, and though I felt ridiculously stupid about it, I would hold my head high and be the bigger man.

Woman.

Whatever.

And my number-one priority? I would think of the
perfect
revenge.

Ashley was organizing a display of shark jaws when I stepped beyond the tarp.

She looked up. “Hey,” she said softly.

Seriously
? After she sabotages me, she has the guts to say hello?

No.
I told myself. Don't fall for it again. Ashley is not your friend. She's probably worried about looking bad in front of Patricia, now that I know the truth.

Instead of responding, I glared at her. Let her see what it feels like. I even tried to raise my eyebrows in that super-haughty way that I'd seen her use at school.

“Ana,” Patricia said. “Welcome back.” She reached out and squeezed my shoulder. She was trying to be extra nice, but I didn't want to think about it. Not now, when I was doing my best to give Ashley the cold shoulder.

“I'm glad you're here,” she said. “Logan is gone for the day, and I need you guys to prepare for Saturday's grand opening. We need to have this place completely cleaned and tidied, okay? Ashley can do floors, and you can clean the tank windows.”

“Okay,” I said. I didn't mean for my voice to sound so cold, but could she blame me? I couldn't help but notice that all around me, scary creatures were circling. Ashley outside the tanks, and sharks inside them.

I ignored Ashley as I set off to the back room to collect the cleaning supplies. For the next half hour, I spritzed all of the tanks with cleaner, wiping them down with paper towels. The silence in the room spread out around us like a storm cloud, angry with rain and ready to burst.

I didn't hear Ashley approach me at the sea dragon tanks. “How's it going?” she asked. Her voice was low and hesitant.

I gave her my best “I'm above this conversation” look. “What does it matter to you?” I said coldly. Ugh, I was so bad at this. Already I felt guilty and jerky and stupid all wrapped up into a ball of mean. But I couldn't give in. She had proven who she was.

Be
the
shark
.

Her face morphed into an angry mask. “What's your problem, Ana?! I thought we could forget about all this and get back to normal, okay? Is that so wrong? Why are you being such a pill?!” She crossed her arms over her chest.

I snorted. “Oh, sure. Just forget that you're a total jerk and you tricked me into actually
liking
you for a moment. Not gonna happen, sorry.” My face burned so hot I was afraid the water around me would start steaming.

Her mouth tipped down at the corners, and her eyes narrowed. “I told you I didn't do anything.
You
were the one who'se name wasn't on that journal! And I wasn't
tricking
you! Thanks for telling Patricia I did it!
I'm
the one who should be angry at
you
!”

I rolled my eyes. “Yep. My name randomly decided to wipe itself off, and that cage magically opened by itself.” I stood up from the tank. “You were the
only
person here, Ashley! It's not like I would sabotage
myself
.”

The air was cool around us, but it felt thick and sticky, like tar, to me. Like I was stuck in a pool of messed-up feelings and couldn't get out. “Look. I promised I'd help you with your presentation, and I'm not a lying jerk, so I will, if you want. But that's it.” I kept my voice hard.

She sniffed, but her face turned icy. It was like watching a switch go off inside her head. One moment, she was angry. The next, like she was a robot. How did someone get so good at turning off their emotions like that?

“I don't need any more help,” she spat. “I made flash cards from everything to study, and Patricia told me I could use my notebook if anyone has questions that stump me. So I will,” she said simply. She clutched the blue notebook I had given her to her chest. A dark flicker of amusement blipped inside of me when I thought about my
own
blue notebook and how it was filled with every mean thing about Ashley that I could think of.

“Fine,” I said.

Ugh. I
hate
the word
fine
. It means anything
but
fine and everyone knows it. But I didn't care.

“I don't know why you're being so immature here.” Ashley's lip curled in disgust. “I didn't
do
anything. You're the one being a whiner about everything.”

A
whiner
?!

My insides felt like they were cracking at the seams. I glared at the notebook in her arms, wanting to grab it from her and rip it to tiny pieces. I bet she wouldn't feel so confident if she didn't have her precious
notes
.

That's when the idea hit me.

It wasn't nice.

It wasn't like
me
at all.

But it was definitely a
shark
idea, and that had to be a good thing
.

Memories of my first crocodile presentation came flooding back. The snarky look on Ashley's face when she was hoping
so
badly
for me to mess up. The way she tried to film the whole thing, so she could put it on the Internet for future generations to see how much of a loser I was.

The idea wrapped around my heart like a boa constrictor, squeezing me desperately. She'd tried to ruin my presentation.

So maybe my perfect sharky plan would be to ruin
hers
.

No, I wasn't going to cause a scene and make her forget her notes or anything. That would probably end up with
me
looking stupid somehow. Instead, I could
switch
my notebook for hers.

It was obvious she was nervous and would need her notes, right? So instead of opening her notebook and seeing shark notes when she needed them, she would see
all
the reasons she was a total backstabbing jerk to me.

It was simple.

It was brilliant.

I just needed some help to get it done.

“Good luck,” I said sharply.

I knew what I needed to do.

Later that night, I left a note in Daz's room, tapped to the side of Oscar's tank.

Daz,

It's me. Remember how I said I might need your help with something? Meet me by the scorpions in the Americas Pavilion at 4:30 tomorrow afternoon. I'll explain everything then.

—A

P. S. Burn this letter. No wait, don't do that. You'll probably set the house on fire and Mom will freak. But seriously, tear it up and eat it or something. This is top-secret business. <>

Cuttlefish can blend seamlessly into their surroundings by changing color.

—Animal Wisdom

So it turns out that being a criminal is a lot more nerve-racking than it sounds.

The next day, I waited until our work was almost done and excused myself early, with my stomach performing Cirque du Soleil's latest acrobatic routine. Ashley didn't bat an eyelash, and Patricia was so busy getting ready for the opening tomorrow that she barely knew we were even there in the first place.

Nobody knew that I didn't really have a stomachache. Nobody saw me double back around the exhibit and sneak over to the Americas Pavilion. The scorpion exhibit was dark, with glow-in-the-dark posters of bugs all around. It was the perfect place to hatch my plan without anyone hearing.

Ducking inside, I settled against the wall and checked my watch.

4:28 p.m. Don't fail me now, Daz.

But he poked his head out from around the scorpion tank right on time.

“
Psst!
” he hissed into the darkness.

“I'm right here, Daz,” I said. “You don't need to whisper. What the heck is that on your head?” I looked quizzically at the old-timey brimmed hat.

Daz grinned. “Your note said this was top-secret business! This is my secret agent hat.”

“You look like you're a gangster,” I said. “And a grubby one at that.” I swiped away one of Darwin's feathers from the brim, sending it floating to the ground.

“I could be both,” he said. Sitting down next to me on the bench, he peered around us in the dark. We were alone. “So. What's up? It sounds important.”

“I need your help,” I said. For a moment, I was surprised to hear those words coming out of my mouth. You
know
I'm in a pickle if I'm asking Daz for his opinion.

“Ashley's being a giant pain, and I want to teach her a lesson.” My heart began to race in my chest. This all felt so…so
criminal
.

I clenched my fists.
Stop
it
.
Sharks
don't feel guilty.

His eyes widened. “Seriously? That doesn't sound like you.” He frowned. “What did you want to do?”

I drummed my fingers on my knee. “Nothing too serious,” I said. “I don't want to
hurt
her or anything. I was thinking about…her notebook,” I said.

Daz didn't react. “What notebook?”

“There's a notebook she has that she's been keeping all her notes in for our shark stuff. Since she's giving a presentation at the opening, I thought that maybe—” I paused. This didn't feel right. I swallowed hard, shoving the thought away. Ashley's sneering face flickered in my mind, reigniting my anger. “I was thinking it would be awfully hard for her to remember everything without her notebook,” I said finally. The words rushed out, leaving a twisted feeling deep in my stomach. “So I'm going to switch it,” I said. “With an
empty
one.” I kept my eyes down, in case Daz could tell I was lying on that one.

Daz leaned back against the bench, tapping his face with his fingertip. I did the same thing when I was thinking hard. “Are you serious? That's like…pretty mean,” he said finally.

I huffed. “Well! She sabotaged me! She left the locks open to make it look like I did, and—and,” I stammered. “What else am I supposed to do?! Will you help me or not?!” The prick of tears behind my eyes made me turn away. I was
not
going to cry in front of Daz. Not in a zillion years would I live that down.

“I'll help you!” he said, holding out his hands in apology. “Did you want me to switch her notebook? Or do you want me to show you how to do it yourself?”

Relief swelled through me. “You'll help me.” I breathed, nodding to myself. “Okay.”

“Well, duh. I am your brother.” He smirked. “Besides, you'll have a much better chance of not getting
caught
with my help,” he said.

I laughed. “I don't know if being a criminal genius is something you should be proud of,” I pointed out.

“Comes in handy now though, doesn't it?” Daz beamed.

“Just tell me what to do.” I glanced at my watch again. “I want to get this done tonight. She'll leave her notebook in her locker and take her flash cards home to study. I need help with the locker.”

Daz nodded. “You might want to write this down,” he said sneakily. “Daz action plans are
always
meticulous.”

Meticulous?

“Have you been reading Dad's word-a-day calendar again?” I rolled my eyes at the look he shot me. “Okay! Okay! Officially writing down. Go ahead.” I dug into my backpack and pulled out a pen, poising it over the back of an Adventure Zone pamphlet. “What's the first step?”

Daz glanced around us to make sure we were still alone. “'Kay. Here's what you need to do.”

The sharp yelp of a zoo visitor outside made me nearly jump out of my skin.

“Breathe,” I told myself. “You can do this.”

I leaned against the Adventure Zone wall, peeking inside the back room. Nobody knew I was in here. Daz's plan was foolproof, but apparently it wasn't “Ana-proof,” because I'd already stubbed my toe trying to be all
Mission: Impossible
–like against the walls. Ashley was putting her stuff in her locker, humming to herself. Logan was in the cafeteria with Danielle, eating curly fries. Patricia was helping someone in the polar bear exhibit.

For the record, it's super weird watching someone when they think you're not there anymore, and it made me feel like a total creeper. But I couldn't avoid it.

This
is
my
only
shot
.

I ran through Daz's plan in my head one more time. All I had to do was wait for Ashley to change her shirt, like she did every day right before she left. After watching her a zillion times, I knew she always grabbed it from her bag, threw it over her shoulder, and ducked into the bathroom to wash up and change. She always left her locker open to do it.

At least, she
better
today, because this whole revenge thing depended on it.

I would sneak in, switch the notebook in her locker for mine, and bolt.

Easy as revenge pie.

I tried to steady my breathing, timing it with the drone of the filters all around me. Was it just me or were they quieter today? Why did I feel about a thousand times louder than normal? Could the sharks tell I was up to no good? Is this the kind of paranoia criminals live with all the time?

I ducked as Ashley grabbed her backpack and threw it on the bench. From here, she looked normal again. Almost nice. There was no snarky anger in her eyes. She riffled through her things, pulling out a green shirt. Daz's instructions recited in my head.

Step
one. Get inside the room without her hearing you.

I held my breath as she swung the shirt over her shoulder. Yes! This was working! She crossed the room and went into the bathroom. Her locker was still open.

I could do this.

I
am
stealthy
like
James
Bond.

Leaning into the door, I let it open slowly. No loud squeaks or creaks here. I slipped in the room carefully, checking the floor for anything that I, Captain Clumsy, could possibly trip on. So far, so good.

I waited a moment, staring at the bathroom door. I could faintly hear Ashley humming behind it, and then the water started running. I froze; my hand was suspended in midair, reaching toward her locker. The notebook was sitting there on the top shelf, practically daring me.

Step
two. Switch the notebooks as quickly as possible. Do not let anything fall to the floor or it might tip her off that you were there.

Gingerly, I pulled out the notebook, making sure none of the other papers or books tumbled out after it. I flipped it open, making sure it was the right book. Drawings of seashells stared back at me. She had made notes after our shell sorting day. I touched a small drawing of a murex shell. It was the shell she had taken home with her. Small ballpoint pen stars surrounded it.

I swallowed hard as my stomach clenched with doubt.

No.
None of that mattered now.

The water in the bathroom stopped running. She could come out any second.

I sucked in a breath.

Step
three: Get out way before you have to, so there's no chance of her seeing you leave the exhibit.

Ashley sneezed from inside the bathroom, jerking me back into action. It was too late. She couldn't find me going through her stuff. I tucked the notebook under my arm, shoved mine in its place, and bolted back through the door, leaving her locker open the way it was when I'd arrived.

The door thumped closed behind me.

Outside the air was thick and hot. Visitors bustled around me as I hid the book as best I could by my side and hustled away from the Adventure Zone. The word
criminal
seemed to echo through me as my sandals slapped the hard pavement. I forced myself to slow down and walk like a normal person.

Nobody knew anything. I'd done it. When it came time for Ashley to present, she would have to do it
without
her handy notes. And as a bonus, she would see all the ways she'd been horrible to me in their place.

It was only fair, I told myself, considering how much of a jerk she'd been to me.

Once I made it home, I bolted for my room and shoved her notebook under my bed as Darwin glared at me with glittering black eyes. He clicked his beak in disgust. At least I think it was disgust because I felt pretty disgusting.

“What?” I snapped. “All I'm doing is teaching her a little lesson,” I hissed. “She tried to ruin my presentation too!”

He fluttered his wings and turned away from me.

“Oh, come on,” I said. “She might not even
need
her stupid notes, with all the memorizing she's been doing,” I rationalized. It was true. Ashley
had
been working hard to get her presentation right; she would probably coast through perfectly fine. It's not like she'd be worried about
me
if the situation were reversed, right?

I faced myself in the mirror and wiped at a line of sweat that was forming on my forehead, despite the air-conditioned house.

This didn't feel the way I thought it would. I closed my curtains, throwing an inky darkness over my room. I didn't want to hear the lions roaring or the zoo visitors chatting. Curling up in bed, I closed my eyes.

I knew I'd done the right thing.

So why did I feel so…
wrong
?