pace again. I can’t help but feel like the universe has nudged me toward this somehow. All the signs have been pointing in this direction, all the dominoes lined up just right. Being partners with Quint, the poor grade, Morgan’s fall off the ladder, right down to Rosa’s suggestion that Quint train me as a volunteer. I might have been resistant at first, but now it makes sense, especially given that it’s all happening so soon after the discovery of my brand-new cosmic power. It has to mean something. Something bigger than me, bigger than Quint.
Maybe this is a sign that I’ve been put on a path toward my destiny.
Now I just have to follow along and see where it leads.
SEVENTEEN
I arrive at the rescue center bright and early, as instructed, but this time I have a folder tucked under my arm. I hardly slept last night. My mind was awash with ideas, and I stayed up far too late making plans and researching nonprofits and fundraising methods. I have ideas. So many ideas. They’re carrying me along now, buoyed like a barrel in the water. I’m not tired at all as I step into the lobby. I’m electrified. I’m ready to make a difference.
But my feet halt as soon as I step through the door. Quint and his mom are both standing by a desk, along with Shauna and another woman wearing a white lab coat—Dr. Jindal? Two other volunteers hover nearby, too. They’re all looking sullen, arms crossed over their matching yellow shirts.
Quint blinks when he sees me. “You came back,” he says, clearly surprised.
I bristle and push my sunglasses up to the top of my head. “Of course I came back.” I make a show of checking my watch, which Ari gave me for a birthday present last year. “And you’re not late for once?”
He almost smiles. “I guess miracles happen.”
“Thank you, Opal,” says Rosa, handing a piece of paper to the vet. “I’ll start putting calls out to institutions today.” She shrugs sadly at the waiting volunteers. “Time to break out the toys, I guess. Been a while. Hope all those beach balls haven’t deflated.”
I frown, motionless, as the volunteers and Dr. Jindal walk away. “What’s going on?”
“Luna has a cognitive disorder,” says Quint. “She’ll never be able to feed herself, which means we can’t send her back out into the ocean.”
“Oh.” I don’t bother trying to hide my confusion. It takes everything in me not to ask, What’s so wrong with that? When clearly this is a big deal to everyone else. “So she’ll go to an aquarium or a zoo or something?”
“When she’s ready,” says Rosa. “It will be a few months. I’m so happy we found her, and that she’ll survive. It’s just … we always hope they’ll be released to their natural habitat in the end.”
“There is a silver lining,” says Quint. “When our animals do end up at zoos and aquariums, they can teach people about wildlife and conservation. They become advocates, sort of, for other animals and for the center.”
I still feel like I’m missing something. To me, the idea of going to a lovely zoo where I’m hand-fed fish all day and get to frolic in the water while adorable children coo and clap sounds like a much better life than trying to hunt for my dinner and risk getting tangled up in fishing line. But I know I’m probably the only person here who feels that way, so I bite my tongue.
“We’ll find a nice place,” says Shauna, squeezing Rosa’s shoulder. “The nicest place that will take her. It’s going to be fine.”
Shauna is wearing some intense jewelry today, having traded in the strand of pearls for hoop earrings that are almost the size of baseballs and a rhinestone brooch shaped like a butterfly that she’s pinned to her T-shirt. I suppose when your job comes with a uniform as awful as those yellow shirts, it’s natural to want to display your personal sense of style. For me, it’s lipstick. For Shauna, evidently, it’s blingy costume jewelry. At least her accessories kind of fit with the cute grandma vibe she has going on.
“So, this might be bad timing?” I say, stepping closer to the desk. “But I had some ideas to share with you.”
Rosa looks at me. “What sort of ideas?”
“Yeah,” says Quint, sounding wary. “What sort of ideas?”
“Just some things that occurred to me. About the business here and how things are run…”
Quint snorts and casts his