this center. What you do here and how it benefits the local wildlife, and also the community. Maybe I could even … help out? Like, on a volunteer basis? For a few hours … or ask you some questions, if you’re not too busy?”
The older woman laughs and tucks a clipboard under one arm. “Oh, sweetie pie. We’re always busy.” She sighs and looks at the other woman. “I’ll see if I can dig up those pamphlets from last year to give to her.”
But the dark-haired woman ignores her. Her eyes are on me, her brow taut. “Did you say Prudence?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I dare to take a few steps away from the door. I glance at the nearest pool, which is behind one of the fence enclosures. The animals there don’t seem to notice that there’s a stranger in their midst. That, or they simply don’t care. “I won’t take up too much of your—”
“You go to Fortuna High?” she interrupts.
I pause. “Yes.”
“Huh.” The woman’s gaze slips over me, head to toes, but I can’t tell what she’s trying to assess. “I think you might know my son. Quint.”
I freeze. My expression remains neutral, professional, but inside I’m shocked. This is Quint’s mom? And also … he’s mentioned me? To his mom?
Drat. I can only imagine all the horrible accusations he’s cast my way. If he rants about me half as much as I’ve ranted about him, then it’s going to be a long uphill battle to get on this woman’s good side.
I briefly consider apologizing and excusing myself and scurrying away, but I hold my ground. My smile brightens, and I try to forget that Quint and I have been mortal enemies for the past nine months. Maybe, just maybe, all he told his mom was that we were lab partners, tasked with doing our semester project together.
“That’s right,” I say, giving an extra bubble to my voice. “We were lab partners this year in biology. You must be Rosa?”
“Yes.” She draws out the word. She seems more than a little confused. “This is our office manager, Shauna.”
Shauna smiles at me, her round face dimpling. “So lovely to meet a friend of Quint’s. I’ve been wondering when he’d start bringing girls around. Thought it was only a matter of time.”
I laugh awkwardly. Oh, if she only knew. “It’s nice to meet you both.”
“Are you taking summer classes or something?” asks Rosa.
“Oh, no. I just…” I pause. How much to tell her? “I’m just doing a bit of extra-credit work. Everyone says I should stop being such an overachiever, but I can’t help it! And … well, Mr. Chavez’s class really gave me a new appreciation for our local sea life. I’m dying to learn more about it.”
For the first time, my answer seems to have pleased Quint’s mom.
“You do know we aren’t a public facility?” says Shauna. She unclips a pen from the clipboard, thumping it against the pages. “But I can surely help you schedule an appointment. Rosa, I’ll go check your calendar for the week.” She heads into the building, humming to herself.
“I’m sorry,” I say to Rosa. “I didn’t mean to intrude. If I could just ask a few questions about, say, local marine habitats, and maybe how tourism impacts the lives of these gorgeous animals?”
Rosa chuckles, but it lacks humor. “Well, I could give you loads of information about that,” she says dryly. “But Shauna is right. This isn’t a good day. I’m sorry. One of my volunteers didn’t show up, and we just recovered a sea lion this morning—it’s the second time she’s been brought in, which is…” The groan she makes is full of disappointment. But then she waves her hand at me, brushing her frustration aside. “Never mind. It’s a sad story. Maybe we can schedule a phone call? Or here, I’ll give you my card and maybe you could just email your questions?”
“Yeah,” I say as Rosa walks past me into the lobby. She starts riffling through a desk drawer. “That would work. That’d be great, actually.”
She finds a card and hands it to me, then stands back, two fingers pressed to her lips. Her apprehensive frown has returned. “You know,” she says uncertainly, “Quint could probably tell you as much about this place as I could. Maybe you could talk to him?”
I laugh. I can’t help it. If she’s making this suggestion, then she must not know the details of our less-than-stellar partnership after all.
“No,” I say, wishing I could