How to Outswim a Shark Without a Snorkel

by Jess Keating

  “Um, I meant this one,” I said, grabbing another title. “Biomimicry,” I said. A rush of relief swept through me. That was safe enough. No disgusting parasites to ruin the mood there.

  Kevin took the book from me and turned it over to read the back. “This one looks good,” he said. He sat down on one of the cushy sofas near the wall and set the small stack of books beside him.

  “What is it exactly?” I asked. I did my best to shimmy beside him, the way girls in movies do. What’s the best way to sit when you want a boy to kiss you? Do you face him? Do you cross your legs? Why do I feel like I’m going to throw up? Oh God, how do girls know these things?

  “Biomimicry is when people study nature to help them figure out problems,” he said, flipping through the pages. He pointed to a sketched image of a bird. “See here. People used to study birds to help them find out how to make humans fly,” he said.

  I leaned over the book, momentarily distracted by the thought. Biomimicry sounded kind of cool. Technically, wasn’t my whole “act like a shark” plan against Ashley sort of like biomimicry? Maybe I was a genius like these scientists and didn’t even know it.

  Only I bet they didn’t accidentally put on boy cologne and have shirts that were crusted in old lemonade and Darwin feathers.

  “And what do they use it for now?” I asked. I put my arm up on the back of the sofa, trying to subtly lean closer, trying not to focus on the fact that I possibly looked like a bad photoshopped version of myself in this pose.

  Kevin sniffed and scratched his nose. “They can use it for all kinds of things,” he said. His eyes sparkled. “They can make better buildings, and better medicine, and better cars.”

  “Wow.” I breathed.

  Inside, my heart was racing. As he stared at me with the book in his hands and that half grin he always gave me, I knew I had to try.

  Was there an old lady in the sofa across from us reading about quilting? Yep.

  Was my stomach churning like I was on a ship in the middle of a stormy sea? Also yes.

  Was I scared out of my wits and probably going to faint at any second because honestly who isn’t scared at the thought of actually kissing someone for the very first time?

  Absolutely.

  But still. I couldn’t let Liv be the only one to keep our kiss pact. I didn’t want to feel like she was miles ahead of me in every single way. I was almost a teenager. Something from this summer had to go right. I could do this!

  I started to lean toward him, trying to remember every romantic movie I’d ever seen. We weren’t outside in the rain or anything like most movies, but a bookstore kiss could be okay. The music seemed to get louder around us as I went for it.

  I moved as fast as I could so I wouldn’t chicken out. Kevin’s eyes widened as I leaned in. I puckered my lips a little. I closed my eyes. I waited for the moment that I’d been picturing for at least three weeks now.

  And you know what I did?

  I didn’t kiss him.

  Nope. That would have been too simple. Too perfect.

  Instead?

  I head-butted him.

  Why did I head-butt him, you ask?

  Because he sneezed.

  “Ow!” he yelled, lurching over to cup his nose. “What the—” he said. Blood trickled from under his fingertips. I gasped, jumping up from the sofa.

  “Oh no, I’m so sorry!” I said.

  He’s bleeding. He’s bleeding!

  “Here, hang on!” I rushed off to the coffee counter, grabbing a pile of napkins. Racing back, I stuffed them into his hand. “This will help,” I squeaked. My voice sounded like the time Daz had sucked up helium from the balloons at the fair.

  Kevin took the napkins, wadding them up under his nose. There were still angry, red lines dripping from his chin.

  “I’m so, so sorry,” I wailed, mentally cursing my perfume-cologne allergy time bomb. “Do you want some ice? I can get you something! I can get you a frozen hot chocolate from the counter!” I stood there like an idiot, wringing my hands. The old lady with the quilting book had her hand over her mouth, looking as mortified as I did.

  He shook his head, waving me off. “No, no, juff gib be a binnit,” he said. His words were muffled behind the napkins. “Dun burry. I’be fide.” He started toward the door. “Dun wanna beed on de books,” he said.

  Ten minutes later, the bleeding had finally stopped. We sat on the curb outside the store, with the warm breeze tickling our faces.

  If it wasn’t for the pile of blood-stained napkins twitching in the breeze beside us on the curb, I would have said it was kind of romantic. But nope. On the list of nonromantic things, dirty tissues and head-butting are probably at the top. Right next to parasites.

  “Ana,” Kevin said for the thirty-fourth time, “it’s okay. Really, it was an accident.”

  “It’s not okay, Kev,” I said, my voice muffled by my sleeve. “I made you bleed.”

  I stared at my shoes, trying to dig up the courage to even look at him. Did he know I’d been trying to kiss him? Could he see how freaked out I’d been? Did that mean he’d think I was some loser kid who wasn’t ready to get a kiss? A million thoughts swam through my head, like an ocean full of angry sharks.

  “I do have a question, though,” he said. I looked over as the grin spread over his face.

  I grimaced. “Yeah?”

  “Why the heck do you smell like that?” he asked, sniffing the air.

  If I lived to be a hundred, I would always remember this moment and how colossally stupid I felt. This wasn’t just regular embarrassment. This was “congratulations-you-get-the-award-for-biggest-screwup-of-all-time” embarrassment. People of the future would probably read books about how dumb I was.

  “I do reek,” I admitted. “I was trying to smell like s’mores. It was kind of an accident.”

  He snorted. “S’mores?! You think you smell like s’mores?!” He looked back at the bookstore. “I’m surprised they haven’t issued a warning in there to other customers to watch out for air pollution!”

  My shoulders hunched. How had the plan gone so wrong? Not only had I head-butted a guy I liked, but now I really had no idea what he was thinking. You can’t exactly ask a guy if he likes you after you made him bleed, you know? In fact, pretty much anything you have to say after that point is going to sound stupid and wrong. All I wanted to do was disappear.

  Or ask that old lady in the bookstore if she needed a quilting buddy, because I sure as heck didn’t feel prepared to hang around the opposite sex anymore.

  The sound of nothing was deafening.

  “Really though. Why did you want to smell like s’mores?” he asked finally.

  I bit my lip.

  Maybe the least I could do was tell him the truth. On account of the bleeding and all. Or maybe, I didn’t have the energy to lie about stuff anymore. My head was heavy and swimmy.

  “I was trying to, um.” There was no way I could say this. Especially not while he was staring at me. I willed the words out of my mouth as I avoided eye contact. “I was trying to kiss you,” I said. I let my eyes drift slightly over to him to see his reaction.

  He stared ahead into the parking lot. “Oh.”

  If he was thinking something, it sure as heck wasn’t obvious on his blank face. That couldn’t be good. Instantly, I wished I’d kept my mouth shut or made up something about having a muscle spasm that had sent me barreling into his face.

  His nonreaction made me antsy. “Liv and I had a pact,” I blurted. “We wanted to kiss someone before high school. Only I’m not going into high school next year, but she is!” I let my head fall into my hands.

  Kill. Me. Now.

  Kevin shook his head, but his eyes were twinkling. “So she roped you into it,” he said. The dimple appeared on his cheek. “Sounds like Liv.”

  I shrugged. “I g
uess so? And what do you mean, it sounds like her?”

  He crumpled the pile of tissues into a ball and stood up, making his way for the garbage can. “It’s just that Liv was always sort of…pushy,” he said. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. Like, remember that time in fourth grade when Liv wanted to open a dog-sitting business and you wanted to do a snow-cone shop instead?”

  I snorted at the memory. Liv and I had spent the whole summer picking up dog poop in her backyard. “Yeah,” I said.

  “You always went with what she wanted,” he explained. “I think it’s nice of you, but it always seemed like she sort of…took advantage of it, you know? Like she expected you’d always pick her over you.”

  A small prick of embarrassment niggled away at me. Was it true? Did I always give in to her? When she had mentioned that she was going to high school early, did I actually say that I didn’t want to go through with the kiss pact? Or had I let her convince me, even though I knew it made me feel all kinds of squiggly wrong inside?

  I knew the answer to that.

  “I didn’t notice,” I admitted. I stood up, trying to brush off the dirt from the curb, along with the embarrassment that seemed to cling to me like sticky spiderwebs. Something about what Kevin was saying felt right. Like he had turned a flashlight on inside my head to light up a whole part of my life I’d never thought about. Did that mean Kevin thought I was some weakling then? Someone who couldn’t stand up to her friends?

  That’s not someone I’d want to kiss.

  That’s not even someone I wanted to be.

  The wind picked up, and suddenly I felt exposed. Wrapping my arms around myself, all I wanted to do was forget this whole night had ever happened. I wanted to pluck the memory of the head-butting and my stupid confession from Kev’s head, so I didn’t have to wonder what he thought about me anymore.

  I wanted to go back to normal, before kiss pacts and summer bookstore dates were even a thing. I wanted to know if Kevin liked me, but this?

  This was like the worst way of trying to find out.

  Maybe Daz had perfected his time machine by now and I could erase this whole evening? Or better yet, maybe I could zap myself to twenty years old and skip the whole “teenager” thing? So far, the lead-up to it had sucked.

  Kevin must have noticed the shift. “Hey, don’t worry,” he said. “I have an idea.”

  I sniffed, looking down at my sandals. A few rogue Nair spots were still healing around my ankle. Another huge Ana fail. “What?” I asked.

  He touched his nose, double-checking for blood again. “Let’s just forget about the whole thing, okay? We can get out of here and go grab some ice cream or something.”

  My doubt grew as his words swirled around in my mind.

  Forget about the whole thing, like “forget-the-nosebleed-happened-and-have-some-fun-elsewhere-because-maybe-I-like-you-too”? Or forget about the whole thing, like “forget-about-the-kissing-and-let’s-go-back-to-normal-and-please-don’t-try-to-kiss-me-again-because-I-don’t-like-you-that-way-and-this-is-super-awkward”?

  Which was it?

  And why didn’t he have anything to say when I told him I was trying to kiss him anyway? Isn’t that something you should respond to? Or maybe by not saying anything about it, he actually was saying something about it?

  This night was getting more confusing by the minute, but one thing was for sure: this jumbled mess of feelings inside of me would definitely pair well with a banana split.

  “Sure,” I said, resigned.

  How is it that spending more time with someone can leave you even more confused? Am I just at the tip of the getting-to-date-boys iceberg here? Why do I get the feeling that I’m the only girl in the history of the world that can’t figure this stuff out?

  Ana’s Official Advice for Girls Who Want to Get Their First Kiss without Ruining the Entire Night

  1. Do not wear your father’s cologne. Even if it comes in a super-girly bottle. And while you’re at it, do not try to fix perfume mistakes by adding more perfume. You cannot undo perfume. It is like beet juice on a white rug. There is no turning back.

  2. If it’s on the Internet, it’s probably a lie.

  3. Do not head-butt him.

  Chapter 20

  The anglerfish has a bioluminescent lure dangling from its face to attract prey.

  —Animal Wisdom

  Can you imagine walking around with that thing? “Oh, hey, Ana! Whoa! What’s on your face?!” “Oh, nothing…just my glowing, dangling, weirdo lure!” No wonder those things stick to the bottom of the ocean.

  “Everyone ready for the big show today?” Grandpa rubbed his hands together with excitement while Sugar checked her teeth in her spoon. Saturday was turning out to be one of the weirdest days of my life. It was the grand opening of the Adventure Zone exhibit, and for once, it wasn’t me doing the presenting. Grandpa and Sugar were back from Los Angeles for the celebration, and because he missed us so much, Grandpa wanted to celebrate with a big family brunch.

  Daz helped himself to a massive scoop of eggs, piling them into a mountain on his plate.

  “I was born ready,” he said, throwing some bacon on top.

  Sugar reached over to squeeze my hand. “Well, I, for one, cannot wait to see it all put together!” She giggled. “Those sharks, and those cute little jellies, and the sweetheart hermit crabs! People are going to love it!”

  I poked at my pancakes. I would have been excited too, if it wasn’t for the smarmy thick feeling in the back of my throat. I kept picturing Ashley, getting ready this morning, not even knowing the notebook in her locker was actually mine, filled with horrible things. That image should make me happy, right? So what gives?

  I spread some butter on my pancakes and poured a well of syrup next to my bacon. “Will we get to see you present, Ana doll?” Sugar continued, sipping her orange juice.

  I chewed my mouthful of pancakes before answering. “Not this time,” I said, keeping my eyes down. I had the distinct feeling that if I talked too much, my sharky notebook revenge plan would erupt out of me like a volcano of guilt and syrup.

  Mom smiled at Sugar. “There’s another girl who has been helping out this month,” she explained. “Ana has helped her get ready.” She lifted her chin proudly.

  Hah. “Helped” indeed.

  “Ooh, that sounds like fun!” Sugar said. “It’s so sweet of you to help out other kids wanting to learn about all those creatures,” she drawled. She handed the ketchup bottle to Dad. “What was the most interesting thing you’ve learned there?”

  “I got one!” Daz piped up, mumbling through his mouthful of bacon. “I learned that a sea cucumber breathes out of its butt!” He cackled.

  “Daz…” Dad warned, shaking his head. There was a smudge of syrup next to his mustache. “Don’t be disgusting at the table.” He wiped his face with a napkin. “Save it for dessert,” he added under his breath.

  “It’s true! They can also make their guts explode if they’re in trouble!” He smashed his fork into his pile of eggs. “Ppchhheewww!” he wailed, making explosion noises. His impression of a sea cucumber was, not surprisingly, pretty disgusting.

  Grandpa shook his head and blinked at Mom. “He’s not wrong, you know,” he acknowledged.

  “What about you, kiddo?” Dad asked. “You’ve spent more time there than anyone.” Everyone at the table turned to me. My fork dropped to my plate with a clang.

  “Um.” I struggled to think, but only one thing popped into my head. “I liked learning about sharks,” I said. “I think it’s cool that they’re such awesome predators, I mean.” I darted a quick look at Dad as my stomach rumbled angrily.

  Maybe I had food poisoning. I shoved my plate away, cringing at the sight of my home fries doused in goopy ketchup.

  “Hey,” I said, looking to Mom. “You guys mind if I excuse myself? I think I’m just nervous
for the opening. I’m going to go get some air.” I shoved out of my chair and bolted for the bathroom as everyone carried on chattering away about sea cucumbers and hermit crabs.

  Alone in the bathroom, I stared at myself in the mirror. I had my trademark ponytail and lime-green zoo shirt on with the sea-blue straps of the new swimsuit I’d gotten with Ashley peeking slightly out of my collar. I looked exactly the same as I did every day.

  But I didn’t feel the same.

  I wasn’t going to be the one on display today, so why did I feel like a thousand eyes were already watching me?

  Forty-five minutes later, the crowd inside the Adventure Zone was packed, and I was having a serious case of déjà vu.

  People filed through the exhibit, pointing out all the animals and taking pictures next to the life-sized set of great white shark jaws by the door. The horseshoe-shaped tank in the middle of the room was a huge hit, with people bending right down to see the sharks and rays up close. The room looked like a magical marine wonderland come to life, with animals of every color of the rainbow swimming, floating, or scuttling in their tanks.

  My heart swelled a teensy bit to see it all. Grandpa had been so right.

  Bella and Kevin waved to me from by the door, causing a rush of gratitude to surge through me. Bella had been supersweet about me missing her bake sale, but I knew I didn’t deserve it. She was a great friend, and I was going to make sure I tried a lot harder to be a better friend to her.

  And Kevin? Well, I can’t have everything figured out, now can I? He hadn’t told Daz about the Great Head-Butting Incident, so I was taking that as a win.

  I shoved my way through the growing crowd into place at the left-hand side of the tank, where Patricia had asked me to be on the lookout for any kids that get too rambunctious for the touch tank while Ashley led her presentation. It was nice for once not to be the center of attention, but I still couldn’t stop the grumbly nerves in the pit of my stomach. Was I nervous for Ashley or what?

  I shoved the thought down. Think like a shark, remember?