by Jess Keating
“I mean it. We went to the dance as a group, with some other friends.”
“And your brother,” she piped in.
“Yes, him too.”
“He’s kind of cute, you know,” she said. I frowned at the closed fitting room door.
“Who? Kevin? Or my brother?” I couldn’t help but cringe.
“Well, both of them,” she said. “Your brother is a nutcase, though. But Kevin is cute, if you like the whole nerdy guy thing. That’s not exactly my type. But I can see how he could be someone’s type, you know?”
“I think he’s really hot,” I admitted, blushing. “Plus, he’s smart and nice, and that makes him seem even hotter.” I glanced at myself in the mirror again, surprised by the smile on my face.
“You guys gone out yet?” Ashley asked. “You know, on a date.” The word took up a lot of space in the room.
“That’s none of your business!” I squeaked.
“So no, huh?” She giggled from behind the door.
“I didn’t say that!”
“You didn’t have to,” she said. She flung a reject suit over the top of the door. “You should ask him out.”
My jaw dropped. This was too surreal. Could she read my mind about the kiss pact or what? I couldn’t believe Ashley was giving me boy advice. “You can’t just go and…” I fumbled. “Ask people out!” For a moment, I considered spilling the truth about the kiss pact. But surrounded by mannequin boobs and Lycra, my head was already spinning.
“Please,” she said. “You so can. He’s obviously into you. He’s probably shy. Lots of geeky guys are shy. So you have to be the one to make the first move.”
I shook my head furiously. “No way. I could never do that.” It occurred to me that if I couldn’t even ask Kevin out, I probably didn’t have the guts to full on kiss him either. Argh.
“I dunno,” she said in a singsongy voice. “You also said you’d never wear pink.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said.
Part of me liked the idea of making the first move for the kiss pact. It would mean I wouldn’t have to sit around wondering if Kevin liked me for real. I always feel like there’s something we’re not saying. You know how in comics there are always thought bubbles rising above the people? I always feel like there’s a thought bubble above Kevin’s head, but I can never see what’s in it.
Maybe his thought bubble is, Hey, Ana, I like you too. But for all I know, he could be thinking, Hey, can you get me a cheese sandwich?
Who knows with boys?
“Coming out,” Ashley announced. She opened the door and came out wearing a new green shirt. “What do you think? I like how it looks with my hair, but is the back sort of funny?” She swung around so I could look.
I inspected it. “Nope, it looks good. It fits great.”
“Cool. I want to look extra good for Logan for the opening!” She pranced back inside to change. “He’s got to get sick of that two-faced Danielle girl someday,” she sang out cheerfully.
I snorted. “Still convinced you’re going to marry him and have a zillion babies?”
“It’s going to be a June wedding,” she said, her voice muffled under her shirt as she changed.
The door swung open one last time, and she stepped out in her regular clothes. “Ready? We can pay for these and go to Jane’s for some cute hair accessories or something.”
“I thought we were only getting suits?” I asked.
She shrugged. “This is fun. I haven’t been here in a while,” she said. “Ever since Brooke and Rayna practically ditched me for the summer.”
The mention of the other Sneerers’ names hit me like sharp gravel. I’d forgotten about them. And any time Ashley was around them, she became a monster. My lip curled automatically as I pictured their faces.
“Where did they go?” I asked as Ashley piled her clothes onto the checkout counter. Brazil? San Diego? The moon?
I could only hope.
Ashley scoffed as the cashier rang her up. Ashley handed over a credit card. “Rayna’s dad has some horse training farm thing in Nebraska, and Brooke’s parents took her with them on a trip to Florida to visit her brother in college.” She clicked her tongue. “For the entire summer,” she spat.
“Huh…” I said. I would have look delighted I bet, except Ashley’s eyes were suddenly super sad. Her lip quivered.
“Hey,” I said. “It’s okay. They’ll be back for school. I know it sucks when friends go away.” I thought of Liv going off on her first date. How I wouldn’t be around to see the look on her face when she got back to tell me all about it. “Summer’s practically almost over. It will go fast, and besides, you’ve got sharks to keep you occupied.” I shoved her shoulder awkwardly.
She nodded and shook her head once, sniffing. The sad look on her face disappeared instantly, and her eyes turned hard again. I was amazed at how quick she could do that. Usually when I’m sad, I couldn’t hide it even if I had a bag over my head. “You’re right. The sharks are pretty fun,” she said. “Do you and Liv still talk a lot?”
“A little bit,” I said. “It’s hard, though. There’s a big time difference, and…” I trailed off. “And she’s making a lot of new friends. That’s good, I guess,” I said. Probably more to myself.
“Well, so are you,” Ashley said. She scooped up her bag and swung it. “Hurry up.” She pointed to the credit card machine, which was waiting for the card I’d borrowed from Dad.
I drummed on my backpack with my fingers, feeling the hard cover of my Anti-Ashley notebook inside. I hadn’t needed it yet. This was probably the first time in our lives we’d had an entire conversation that didn’t feel weird. Almost like we were two normal friends, hanging out and trying on swimsuits. Was this the first time I “squat tested” Ashley as a friend?
“Ooh, we can grab some ice cream too. Mint chocolate chip, here I come.” Ashley rubbed her hands together and narrowed her eyes like a sneaky villain.
I swiped my card.
Ice cream sounded great.
Chapter 11
Giant clams are the largest mollusks on earth, weighing up to five hundred pounds and reaching four feet in length.
—Animal Wisdom
Five hundred pounds?! I’m never going in the ocean again.
Sharks in swimsuits. Crocodiles in short shorts. Starfish doing the squat test.
That is what I spent all night dreaming about, thanks to my shopping day with Ashley. It was like my brain took all the worries in my head, threw them in an empty mayonnaise jar, and shook them all up together in some colossal, murky mess of swimsuit anxiety and frenemy fear. Why couldn’t I dream about skating on a chocolate chip cookie or something?
I was almost afraid to see Ashley at the zoo the following Monday. We’d had actual fun together, but I couldn’t shake the edgy feeling that the whole thing was a setup or some sort of sugar-high fantasy that I’d concocted on my own after eating too many Golden Grahams.
But the beautiful new swimsuit hanging off my closet doorknob was proof. So was the buggy-eyed look on Dad’s face when I showed him the receipt from Aviana’s Bikini Hut. Trust him to not understand that ruching and “fake-a-butt” fabric doesn’t come cheap.
Swimsuit or not, it seemed like it would only take one false move on my part for Ashley to morph back to her Sneerer self. I didn’t want to make any mistakes, so I planned my entrance down to the letter before showing up to the Adventure Zone to work together again. I would just walk in calmly, act completely natural like it wasn’t a huge deal that we’d hung out and did squat tests together, and say, “Hey.”
It was foolproof.
Ashley was in the changing room, finishing off her cup of yogurt with her blue notebook propped open on her lap. She didn’t look like she’d dreamed about sharks or any other sea creatures in swimsuits. In fact, Ashley looked as put together
as always. Her hair was back in a sleek ponytail, and her eyelids twinkled with gold shimmers.
“Hey, Ana,” she said, standing up and tossing her cup into the garbage can. She washed her spoon in the tiny fountain and wiped it on the hem of her shirt before stuffing it into her locker. “Did your dad flip about the suit?” she asked.
“Only a little,” I said, relieved she was still being nice. Not exactly the truth, but I didn’t want to seem like a total loser with uptight parents now.
“Thanks again,” I added, taking the chance while I had it. “For the swimsuit stuff, I mean. I tried it on again this morning and still really love it,” I said.
She didn’t need to know that I might have also strutted around my room to music, trying to look like one of those models on the beach in the summery commercials. Actually, no one needed to know that.
Ashley grinned. “Told ya,” she said. “I like mine too. It will help when we’re presenting at the grand opening event, I bet. Good clothes always boost my confidence.” She dug into her pocket and pulled out a tube of shimmery peach gloss. “Just like lip gloss,” she added, slicking some over her lips.
Something about Ashley’s easygoing attitude today and the perfectly applied lip gloss made the question flicker in my mind again. She’d helped with the swimsuit. Maybe she would help with the whole kiss pact thing now? Could I trust her? I was about to open my mouth and spill the beans about it when Patricia ducked her head into the room.
“Ana! Great, you’re here,” she said, bustling inside. She looked even more frazzled than normal, with her hair sticking out in frizzy bits all over her head. Her eyebrows were furrowed with concern. “We need to talk before you two get to work today.”
Ashley and I darted a look at each other, trying to figure out what was coming. I hated it when adults said, “We need to talk.” It’s basically like saying, “We need to eat this rotting egg salad sandwich,” or “We need to pluck all your leg hairs out one by one.” It never ends well.
“Okay,” I said, gritting my teeth. “What’s up?”
Patricia waited a beat before speaking. “There’s been a bit of a mix-up, I’m afraid,” she said. She looked anxiously at the fridge. “You’re both familiar with the feeding procedures for the sea horses, correct?” She looked from me to Ashley.
I frowned. What was she getting at? “Y-yes,” I said. “The babies get the live brine shrimp, and the older ones get shrimps and copepods.” Holding my breath, I checked with Ashley. She nodded curtly, wringing her hands.
“Well, for some reason they were overfed last Friday, nearly triple what they need,” she said. The lines around her mouth deepened with worry. “I cleaned out the tank this morning, and it doesn’t matter who did it,” she said, emphasizing her words by slowing them down, like she was talking to kindergartners. “I want you both to make sure you’re extra clear you’re not both doing it and mixing up the amounts.”
Ashley seemed to shrink as I turned to her. She was in charge of the sea horses last time. Her hair made a curtain between us as she dipped her head lower.
“But, Ms. Shurman,” Ashley blurted. “I was so careful when I fed them, I swear! I measured twice and everything.” Her face was turning pink as she spoke.
I stood there, silent. I could remember exactly when Ashley had fed the sea horses last time. It was the same day we went shopping, and she had put in the right amount, I’d thought.
But had I missed something? Did she overfeed them?
Patricia didn’t seem convinced. “Well, someone accidentally put too much food in there, so make sure that you keep the lines of communication open. We can’t have mistakes like that because the animals could get hurt. And, Ana.” She looked to me.
I flinched hearing my name, with hot shame rising up traitorously to my face. “I’m trusting you to be extra careful, okay? Ashley is new here, so she may not be used to the basics yet. But you’ve been working in the zoo for ages, so you should know better. Always double-check!”
The words pricked against me like porcupine quills.
You should know better.
I swallowed thickly as Ashley stared at her feet.
“Yes, ma’am,” I squeaked, straining against my tightening throat. It didn’t seem fair, blaming me for one of Ashley’s accidents. But…what if it wasn’t an accident? Ashley wouldn’t put animals in danger like that, would she? No, it had to have been an honest mistake.
“Excellent. On to business.” Patricia clapped, signaling she was out of “stern” mode and back into “let’s-get-some-work-done” mode. “Before you start today, I wanted to make sure you were familiar with the new cage protocol on some of the small creatures here.” She pointed to the tank of crabs that lined the lower west wall of the exhibit.
“The backs of the cages all have waterproof notebooks attached to the doors.” She pointed to the hanging notepads. “Every time you open or close a cage, you sign in and out, okay? Use this red pencil,” she added. “It’s waterproof.”
“Okay,” Ashley said. I was still too mortified at Patricia’s lecture to talk.
“It keeps everything sorted here and gets us in the habit of double-checking all the locks,” Patricia explained. “Don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of it quickly,” she said, waving us off to do our chores while she shuffled back into her tiny office.
Patricia’s lecture kept playing over and over in my head as Ashley and I set to work for the afternoon.
You should know better.
Four little words, but they felt like weights clinging to me. Was there any worse feeling than shame? It seemed to squirrel away inside of you, popping its head out whenever you think you’re fine and over something. Like a rabid rodent inside your heart waiting for you to feel okay about yourself so POOF, it can magically reappear and make you feel like crap all over again.
I couldn’t help but notice that Ashley’s easygoing, happy attitude had also faded. Instead, she cleaned all the glass on the outside of the tanks with hardly a word, focusing on each and every stroke of her paper towel. Even her bright green fingernails seemed duller.
“I didn’t do it,” she said finally, lifting her feet one at a time so I could run the wet mop over the floor around her.
I looked up. “The sea horse thing?” I asked. “You can tell me if you make a mistake. It’s totally okay.” I tried to be patient and reassure her, sort of the way Mom does when I accidentally put one of my red shirts in with Dad’s white shirts in the washing machine and turn the whole load into a hot mess of bubblegum pink. I tried to make her know that even if she had messed up, it was fine.
She bit her lip and shook her head adamantly. “No, I mean it! I double-checked it and definitely did not add three times as much! I’d have to be insane to do that!”
I shrugged. “It can happen! I once accidentally fed Darwin cornflakes because I wasn’t paying attention. I practically had the milk poured over him before I realized.” I grimaced at the memory. Darwin didn’t let me live that down for months, always flinching when I walked up to him with a glass of milk.
But Ashley glared at me. “I’m telling you, Ana. I did not mess up.”
I let out a slow breath. “Well, someone did!” I said, throwing my hands up. The anger surged higher. “And I got blamed for it, so…” I shook my head, breathing out a lungful of frustrated air. This was stupid. I didn’t want to argue over something so dumb.
“I didn’t want you to get blamed,” Ashley said, jutting out her chin. “I’m just telling you I didn’t do it!”
I clamped my mouth shut. To me, it seemed perfectly clear that Ashley had made a mistake. I mean, food doesn’t magically appear in sea horse tanks, you know? It was her job last time, so it definitely wasn’t me. So why couldn’t she own up to it? Was she trying to say she thought I’d done it?
I finished mopping, taking my frustrations out on the floor.<
br />
Ashley didn’t say anything as I put the mop away, signed my name on the checkout sheet, and loaded up my backpack to head home for the day. She didn’t respond when I sighed loudly trying to get her attention, and she didn’t answer when I pushed the locker room door open and held it for her as she rushed ahead of me and bolted outside.
“Bye then,” I muttered, watching her dart away. She disappeared fast into the crowd of visitors, but I didn’t miss how quickly her hand reached up to wipe her eyes. Was she crying? Or was it all for show to make me feel bad for her?
Inside my backpack, the Anti-Ashley notebook weighed heavily on my shoulders as I wordlessly tied my shoes before leaving. Should I write about the sea horse mishap, to be safe? I didn’t know.
It was starting to feel like the most obvious things—even Ashley being a Sneerer—weren’t so black and white anymore. It reminded me of zebras somehow. Like I was always used to seeing them with their black-and-white stripes, just like I was always used to Ashley acting like a jerk. But now? Not being sure that Ashley was sabotaging me?
That was like seeing a herd of gray zebras.
Were they even zebras without their stripes?
And was Ashley Ashley without her mean?
Chapter 12
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
Well, that’s a lovely image to consider right before I eat anything ever again.
“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.
