Read Online Sea Change by Aimee Friedman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Aimee Friedman
Tags: Fiction
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Mariner. At least here, there was a distinct lack of legend or lore.
CeeCee and I walked over to the desk in the corner, which was being manned by a teenage girl with pretty rows of dreadlocks and wire-framed glasses.
“Two, please,” CeeCee told the girl in an imperious tone, handing her a five-dollar bill; when we’d left The Mariner, CeeCee had insisted that this visit be her treat.
As I watched the girl punch the keys on the register, her expression studious, I realized she reminded me a little of…myself.
“This must be a cool place to work,” I mused out loud, studying the brochures stacked on the cluttered desk.
“It’s my summer job,” the girl said flatly, shooting me a look of confusion. It occurred to me that she was a resident who lived on the island year-round—a local—and couldn’t grasp why I was talking to her. I wanted to mouth, I’m not one of them!
“What’s there to do in here?” CeeCee asked, wrinkling her freckled nose as she accepted the two tickets from the girl.
“We have our aquarium room, featuring snapping turtles, puffer fish, and the Atlantic octopus,” the girl replied in a rote tone, handing me one of the brochures. “And Leo is actuallyabout to give these kids a tour of the center starting”—she glanced at her watch—“now.”
“Lord help us,” CeeCee murmured, looking at the gaggle of children in panic.
“Who’s Leo?” I asked, skimming the brochure and thinking that a tour sounded like fun.
“He’s the other summer intern,” the girl responded, then pointed over my shoulder. “There he is. Hey, Leo!” she shouted. “Can you take two more on your tour?”
I turned around and my heart flew into my throat.
Leo was the boy I’d met on the beach.
He looked different—cleaner—than he had yesterday; he now wore a white polo shirt with a name tag that read LEO M. , navy blue board shorts, and flip-flops. But it was inarguably the same boy, with the same straight, burnished gold hair, high cheekbones, and bright green eyes. It didn’t make sense; I’d assumed he was a young fisherman, or some sort of nomadic beach wanderer.
“Of course I can,” Leo replied in that deep, scratchy voice. He was addressing the girl, but he was staring directly at me. “The more, the merrier.”
I felt CeeCee pinch the skin above my elbow. “Eye candy alert,” she whispered. “Let’s take the tour!”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I faltered, feeling heat spread acrossmy cheeks. Would Leo say something to me? Would we both pretend we hadn’t met yesterday? I had no precedent for this particular situation.
“Coming here was your idea, missy,” CeeCee said, steering me toward Leo, who was now clapping his hands and asking people to gather around him. “We’re doing it.”
Six
EXPLORERS
W elcome to the Selkie Island Center for Marine Discovery,” Leo said, his eyes sparkling as he faced the crowd. “A gift of the Illingworth family,” he added in an ironic kind of baritone, and I felt a smile playing on my lips.
“Cute, but he’s got to be a local,” CeeCee whispered disdainfully. “Total Fisherman’s Village type.”
I started to ask CeeCee what she meant, but the woman standing ahead of me shot us an irritated glance. This wasn’t the time to gab. Behind us stood—I’d done a double take to confirm—the excitable little blond boy from the ferry and his parents.
“We are much more than an aquarium,” Leo continued, spreading his large, tanned hands. “This center is involved inwildlife preservation and does a great deal of research both in Selkie’s marshes and on Siren Beach.”
I felt my breath catch. I couldn’t get over how boyish Leo had seemed on the beach yesterday, when he was now so official. Professional. He also had not glanced at me again since CeeCee and I joined the group, so I wondered if he even remembered me.
“This,” Leo said, leading us into a dimly lit room that smelled of salt, “is our aquarium where you can
CeeCee and I walked over to the desk in the corner, which was being manned by a teenage girl with pretty rows of dreadlocks and wire-framed glasses.
“Two, please,” CeeCee told the girl in an imperious tone, handing her a five-dollar bill; when we’d left The Mariner, CeeCee had insisted that this visit be her treat.
As I watched the girl punch the keys on the register, her expression studious, I realized she reminded me a little of…myself.
“This must be a cool place to work,” I mused out loud, studying the brochures stacked on the cluttered desk.
“It’s my summer job,” the girl said flatly, shooting me a look of confusion. It occurred to me that she was a resident who lived on the island year-round—a local—and couldn’t grasp why I was talking to her. I wanted to mouth, I’m not one of them!
“What’s there to do in here?” CeeCee asked, wrinkling her freckled nose as she accepted the two tickets from the girl.
“We have our aquarium room, featuring snapping turtles, puffer fish, and the Atlantic octopus,” the girl replied in a rote tone, handing me one of the brochures. “And Leo is actuallyabout to give these kids a tour of the center starting”—she glanced at her watch—“now.”
“Lord help us,” CeeCee murmured, looking at the gaggle of children in panic.
“Who’s Leo?” I asked, skimming the brochure and thinking that a tour sounded like fun.
“He’s the other summer intern,” the girl responded, then pointed over my shoulder. “There he is. Hey, Leo!” she shouted. “Can you take two more on your tour?”
I turned around and my heart flew into my throat.
Leo was the boy I’d met on the beach.
He looked different—cleaner—than he had yesterday; he now wore a white polo shirt with a name tag that read LEO M. , navy blue board shorts, and flip-flops. But it was inarguably the same boy, with the same straight, burnished gold hair, high cheekbones, and bright green eyes. It didn’t make sense; I’d assumed he was a young fisherman, or some sort of nomadic beach wanderer.
“Of course I can,” Leo replied in that deep, scratchy voice. He was addressing the girl, but he was staring directly at me. “The more, the merrier.”
I felt CeeCee pinch the skin above my elbow. “Eye candy alert,” she whispered. “Let’s take the tour!”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I faltered, feeling heat spread acrossmy cheeks. Would Leo say something to me? Would we both pretend we hadn’t met yesterday? I had no precedent for this particular situation.
“Coming here was your idea, missy,” CeeCee said, steering me toward Leo, who was now clapping his hands and asking people to gather around him. “We’re doing it.”
Six
EXPLORERS
W elcome to the Selkie Island Center for Marine Discovery,” Leo said, his eyes sparkling as he faced the crowd. “A gift of the Illingworth family,” he added in an ironic kind of baritone, and I felt a smile playing on my lips.
“Cute, but he’s got to be a local,” CeeCee whispered disdainfully. “Total Fisherman’s Village type.”
I started to ask CeeCee what she meant, but the woman standing ahead of me shot us an irritated glance. This wasn’t the time to gab. Behind us stood—I’d done a double take to confirm—the excitable little blond boy from the ferry and his parents.
“We are much more than an aquarium,” Leo continued, spreading his large, tanned hands. “This center is involved inwildlife preservation and does a great deal of research both in Selkie’s marshes and on Siren Beach.”
I felt my breath catch. I couldn’t get over how boyish Leo had seemed on the beach yesterday, when he was now so official. Professional. He also had not glanced at me again since CeeCee and I joined the group, so I wondered if he even remembered me.
“This,” Leo said, leading us into a dimly lit room that smelled of salt, “is our aquarium where you can
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