How to Outswim a Shark Without a Snorkel (2 page)

I tried not to cringe. “Y…yes,” I said. A month ago, I wouldn't have been caught dead admitting that, but they both beamed.

“We know everything about you,” she said solemnly.

Yikes.

Hopefully they didn't know I had to wear my old Wonder Woman underwear today because I'd forgotten to add my laundry to the pile like Mom had asked me last night.

That'd be awkward.

“What's with all the construction signs, huh?” the girl chattered, pointing over to the polar exhibits. “We ran into some by the bears. Are you getting some new animals?” Her face lit up. “
Ooh!
Are they going to be part of your next presentation?! Are they pandas?! I
so
hope they're pandas!” The girls were bouncing again on their heels.

I backed away slightly. All that energy was hard to handle, you know? Like they were sparking firecrackers about to go off.

“Uh,” I said. “I'm not sure. It's been super busy this summer so far, but I don't know if we have any new animals coming,” I admitted. “It's a lot of work to get new creatures here, so it only happens after a
lot
of planning.”

“
Ohhh
,” they said together, their mouths dropping open with awe. I checked my watch. My time was running out, and as nice as the girls were, I
really
wanted to find out what Grandpa had planned. I glanced up to their mom hopefully.

“All right, girls,” she said, giving me a conspiratorial smile. “Let's not take up too much of Ana's time. She probably wants to enjoy the rest of her day! Say thank you!” She coaxed the girls away as I waved good-bye.

“Bye!” They waved one last time as they left, babbling happily on the way.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead and kept marching home, marveling at how much my life had changed.

You wouldn't think there would be a really big difference between being twelve and being twelve and a half. Doesn't look like much, right? Just that one little half.

Turns out, that little half can make all the difference in the world.

Last month, I was the most anonymous person on the planet. Okay, that's not exactly true. More like I
thought
I wanted to be anonymous. Invisible. If I could have zapped myself down to the size of an ant, I would have done it before you could say “elephant poop.” Sometimes, I still catch myself wanting to hide and be anonymous, but if there's one thing the last month has taught me, it's that being brave enough to be your true self takes
work
. You can't suddenly say “Ta-da! I'm brave now!” and be done with it.

Totally sucks, right?

Darwin was perched on top of his living room cage when I opened the front door. He's my African gray parrot, and despite being a total loudmouth, he's still one of my best friends, so as long as he behaves, I like to let him out to explore. He even lets me practice my presentations in front of him and gets excited when I talk about reptiles. You should have seen his face when I told him he was related to dinosaurs. Total drama queen.

I yanked open the front closet, digging through the coats in search of Grandpa's secret gift bags. It was no wonder Mom hadn't found them yet—this closet looked like a war zone, with winter hats and scarves stuffed in every cubby and opening.

“Well?” I spoke to Darwin as I searched. “Any ideas on what the surprise is? Now is your chance.”

He ruffled his feathers and shuffled into his cage, tempted by the tray of grapes and seeds I'd left him this morning.

“Suit yourself,” I said. “Ah, here we go!”

Four bright blue gift bags were tucked against the back wall of the closet. Lifting one by its handle, I swung it gently, trying to judge the contents by the weight like I do at Christmas. It was superlight, and the only sound it made when I shook it was the crunching of tissue paper that popped out of the top. I glanced out the front window to check for nosy visitors.

I could have one look, right? A teensy peek?

Darwin's squawk scared the bleep out of me. “Okay!” I yelped, nearly dropping the bag. “I won't cheat!”

Giving him a mega-glare, I bunched the handles of the bags together in one hand and headed for the door. “Don't get mad at me if Grandpa is getting us all
cats
!” I hissed at him on the way out.

It was a good thing Grandpa hadn't sent Daz, because there was no way in Santa's snowy workshop that he would have avoided the temptation of looking.

Just saying.

When I made it to the polar bear exhibit, my parents were waiting outside with Daz and Grandpa. My doubts about Grandpa's surprise grew as I saw that they looked as confused as I felt. I checked around us for the press, but no suspicious people with cameras were lurking nearby. Honestly, it's like Grandpa
liked
messing with my nerves.

Mom whipped around. Her hair was messy, frizzing out around her hat. “Ana! We've been waiting for you. Dad wouldn't start without you.” Her wild eyes told me she was as on edge about all this as I was. The back of her zoo uniform was stained with perspiration.

“I brought these.” I set the bags down beside me as Grandpa noticed me and clapped his hands together. Sugar stood beside him in her usual miniskirt and heels, wriggling with excitement. (She had on a shirt too, but something about eight miles of leg made it hard to notice that.)

“We're all here!” Grandpa cleared his throat, and I could tell a speech was coming on. He
loved
to have everyone's attention. A few zoo visitors lingered around us, watching inquisitively. “As you know, I've been planning a little something as a surprise.” He turned to look at Mom. “Janie, you remember that summer we spent on that fishing boat? When you were six or seven?”

Mom nodded, but she was still wary. She took my hand and gripped it tightly. “Yes…”

Grandpa smiled. “Well, I've been thinking, a little time at sea should be mandatory for all kids.” He gestured widely with a faraway look in his eyes.

I did not like where this was going.

“Dad…” Mom said. Her voice was low. “What did you do? You know we can't send the kids on some boat right now.”

Boat?! Who said anything about a BOAT?!

“Mom?” I said, panicked. I squeezed my nails into her hand, communicating my terror. Beside me, Daz was practically bouncing out of his skin.

Grandpa shook his head. “No, no, no,” he said. “There's no boat this time, although that
would
be a great plan.” Sugar nodded sagely but kept her lips pursed.

Already I was feeling seasick.

“
But
I did manage to wrangle some resources together.
Secretly.
Which is very hard to do around here, I'll have you know.” He winked and led us toward the construction signs behind him.

Dad glanced nervously at me, tugging at his mustache. We followed behind Grandpa slowly, like he might lead us into a lion's den. Which, knowing him, he totally would.

“And I'm very happy to report that it has been a success,” Grandpa continued. “We're not completely finished with the renovation, but we're going to go public soon. I wanted you to know first, before Sugar and I leave for Los Angeles again tomorrow.”

“Know what, Shep?” Dad said. Always the voice of reason. His eyebrows were scrunched together.

“Glad you asked, Henry,” he said. “Why don't you open your presents first?” He lifted his shoulders and giggled innocently.

The paper crackled as I numbly handed out the bags, keeping one for myself. Digging through to the bottom, I felt something hard and rubbery. Then some sort of long…tube?

Whaaa?

“Snorkel gear!” Daz erupted, tossing his bag to the floor. He waved a black-and-blue snorkel mask and stuck the snorkel in his mouth. “Fee gof ufs shnorkul fgear!”

I stared at Grandpa, dread sinking deeper and deeper into my stomach.

“Now you're ready,” Grandpa said, corralling us closer to the building.

He threw open the plastic tarp around the pavilion door, and we all stepped inside. The first thing that hit me was the cool air.

Well, that and the fishy smell.

Jellyfish have existed for more than six hundred and fifty million years.

—Animal Wisdom

“Ta-daaah!” Grandpa sang out.

Mom and Sugar gasped. Daz wheeled around to gape at the ceiling, and Dad stumbled back a step, bumping his head into a display of sculpted exhibit rocks.

I blinked at the bright light. We were surrounded by Caribbean blue walls with a mural of sharks, rocks, and jellyfish painted all around us. Glass tanks and silvery gray rocks flanked us. A plastic sign was mounted above us, the letters hanging at odd angles.

“The Marine Adventure Zone,” Daz read aloud. He turned to Mom. “What's that mean? Ooh, are there sharks in here?!” His eyes widened with excitement as he ran up to the shark anatomy paintings on the wall.

“Not yet!” Grandpa said, giggling like a little boy. “But soon!” He reached up and adjusted the sign. “Still needs a bit of work obviously, but I wasn't able to keep it a secret from you any longer,” he explained, beaming. “What do you think?”

Mom rubbed her hand over one of the tanks. “‘Adventure Zone' meaning what?”

“The zoo has been wanting to introduce some new interactive exhibits for a long time, and when I saw how great Ana was doing with presentations, and remembered how much
you
used to love our boat trips, I knew it was the right thing to do,” he said. “This is a place where kids can come and interact with real live marine species. This tank here will be full!” He gestured to a low horseshoe-shaped tank along the left side of the room.

“Real sharks?!” Daz shrieked. My stomach flip-flopped as I stared warily at the painted sharks on the wall. Even their fake painted-on teeth looked scary enough to me.

Grandpa waggled his eyebrows. “One hundred percent real,” he said. Then he noticed the uneasy look on Mom's face. “Safe ones, mind you. Every animal here will be safe for kids of all ages. Manta rays, some gentle sharks, and some jellyfish, sea horses, and octopi in the side exhibits.” He pointed to the side walls, which had built-in tanks incorporated around the rocky exterior.

I stared up at Mom. I wasn't exactly sure what this had to do with
us
. But maybe Mom was just his inspiration, like he said? My shoulders drooped with relief. This could be sort of…
cool.

“Wow, Dad,” Mom finally said. “This is…great. Really! What a wonderful addition to the zoo.” She reached over to hug him. I had to admit it, having a touch tank seemed like a super-fun idea for visitors. So long as they didn't have any man-eating sharks here. I eyed the biggest tank suspiciously.

Could a great white fit in there?

“And the best part is that Ana and Daz can join in the fun!”

Say
what?

Beside me, Daz hooted with glee.

Grandpa shrugged. “It seemed only fitting to have the zoo's youngest up-and-coming star at the helm of this ship! Why do you think I got you the snorkels? So you can play the part! Daz can learn some of the natural history, and Ana can work the crowd with her dazzling wit!”

I gripped the side of the tank beside me. I may have wit, but it's definitely not dazzling. Maybe more of a dim sparkle.

“Wait,” I said, the realization crashing over me. “You want me to talk about sharks?”

“Not only
talk
about them!” Grandpa said. “You get to have fun too! You can hang out with the sharks and help the visitors!”

No, no, no, no, a million times no to the sharks.

“Surprise!” Grandpa said.

Now that's the understatement of the year, right there.

“Dad,” Mom interrupted. “We've only recently gotten Ana acclimated for her presentations with the reptiles. I think she should stay where she's most comfortable.” She blinked at me nervously and she kept her voice low and controlled. “You remember how difficult it was for her.”

I cringed at the memory. The panic attacks. The hot spotlight that felt like it was going to singe my skin. The look of pure joy on evil Sneerer Ashley's face when I
almost
messed it up in front of everyone.

I pointed at Mom eagerly. “Yeah! What she said! I'm acclimated! It was
difficult
!” Even though I had no idea what
acclimated
meant, I knew that it sounded right. Really I was thinking,
Nope, not changing plans now, nope, nope, nope
.

“Oh, come on, Janie! You know she'll love it!” Grandpa said. “Who wouldn't love to spend a summer working with sharks right here?! It's hot outside, and it's
cool
in here! Plus, it's mostly kids in here. She will be great to help them interact with these animals. It's perfect!”

I shook my head. “But no! I want to stay where I am! With the reptiles! I'm the crocodile girl, remember?!”

Okay, so that wasn't exactly official or anything. But more than a few people had nicknamed me that, so why confuse them, right?

Right?

Daz piped in. “What? Are you afraid of them or something? Come
on
. It's sharks!”

“No!” I hissed. The heat crept up onto my cheeks despite the cool room. “I just like animals with…legs,” I said feebly, avoiding everyone's eyes.

It wasn't actually the sharks that bugged me. But why would I want to change things now, when they had finally started to feel okay? What if I
hated
being with the sharks? Who would I get to work with? What if they didn't even like me and spent all day trying to bite me? The sharks, I mean, not the people. What if I started having freak-outs again because it was a new place? My old, scaredy-cat self was clawing its way out of me. What if—

“Well, I've already told Patricia you'd be great for the job. She's in charge of the new species and said she would love the help. I can tell her you'd rather stay where you are, if you want to,” Grandpa said. He wrung his hands together and gave me a pouty look.

Great. I'll take panic with a side of guilt, please.

Mom sighed. “He was only trying to surprise you, Ana. We really did have a great time when I was a kid.” She squeezed Dad's hand. “You might love it,” she said. “You won't have to be
in
the tanks the whole time either. It's more of a fun thing to do while you learn. Then you can lead your talks as usual. Only this time about sharks. You don't
have
to do this. But maybe you should think about it…?” Now it was Mom's turn to give
me
puppy dog eyes.

Ugh. More guilt.

I peered around at the fake rocks and my family. Everyone, even Dad, looked like they were ready to dive into some super-happy pool of summer fun but couldn't do it with me holding them up, dipping my toe in the cold water.

That familiar clammy, tight feeling of fear choked at my throat, threatening to take over…

No.

I forced myself to stand straighter. If things were going to keep on changing like this, then I would just have to find a way to figure it out and deal with it without going all hot-jittery mess like I used to. I would
adapt
and change however I needed to, like Darwin (the scientist guy, not my parrot) was always talking about on the evolution posters in the Natural History Pavilion.

I
refused
to let something as simple as man-eating sharks scare me.

Okay, that's a bad example.

I set my jaw.
Adapt, Ana.
“Okay,” I said. “I'll do it! Fine! Yes!” Nervous laughter bubbled up inside me as a proud smile burst onto Mom's face. She squeezed my hand, and my shoulders relaxed as I leaned in for a hug, but the squirmy feeling of doubt seemed to smirk at me from the inside.

I shoved the feeling down as Grandpa pulled me into a tight hug. “Yay, Ana Banana! It's going to be great!”

I took a huge breath and smelled the salty ocean tang in the air. My heart was lighter already, buoyed from the pride of not letting my fear ruin the day again. All I needed to do was make sure my bravery didn't run off and hide like a dog from a bath with all these changes going on.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad?

Five Things about Summer That I Hope NEVER Change, No Matter How Many Sharks Grandpa Throws at Me

An “Ana Will Stay Positive” List

1. That feeling of the hot sun beaming against my back when I get out of the pool that feels like a giant hug. And since it's summer, the days are extra long, almost like the sun
knows
it should hang out a little while longer in the sky instead of hightailing it below the horizon like the rest of the year.

2. The taste of ice-cold lemonade mixed with a teensy bit of iced tea that you can hear when you drink because of the
clinky-clink
of all the ice cubes against your upper lip.

3. That toe-stretchy feeling of waking up late in your cozy bed, knowing that no matter
what
happens today, you don't have to go to school and take a math test.

4. Getting to stay awake as late as I want, without having to worry about the alarm clock waking me up early in the morning.
Technically
, Mom and Dad only let us stay up a little later, but instead of turning off the lights and threatening to ground us like they do during the school year when they catch us up, now they sigh and shake their heads and say we'll be sorry in the morning. Yeah, right!

5. Never
ever
having to see the Sneerers, especially their ringleader, Ashley, who devotes her entire existence at school to ruining my life. Okay, probably not her entire existence. But if her existence were a root beer float (another awesome summer drink), the root beer would be how much time she spends on preening, the ice cream would be how much time she spends wandering the mall with her minions, Rayna and Brooke, and the fluffy foam on top would be how much time she spends trying to mess with me. So. Extra nice to not have to worry about her for two precious months. If I could handle Sneerers, I could definitely handle sharks, right?