How to Outswim a Shark Without a Snorkel (16 page)

BOOK: How to Outswim a Shark Without a Snorkel
2.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
Chapter 19

Dolphins use echolocation to track their prey, making up to one thousand clicking noises per second.

—Animal Wisdom

I wonder how the FBI track criminals? They probably have better systems than dolphins, that's for sure.

I am not going to jail.

I am not going to jail.

I am not going to—
wait
—what was that noise?!

I whirled around in my chair at the loud creak outside my door, sending Darwin scuttling from my desk to his open cage.

“Shh!” I hushed his indignant chirps.

Could
that
be
the
cops?!

It had been a few hours since I'd switched Ashley's notebook, and it seemed like any second the police would be here, pounding on the door and ready to haul me into jail. I mean, they probably had much scarier criminals to catch than some notebook stealer. But who knows, right? They could be having a slow night.

All through dinner I'd been a jumpy mess, and I even got chicken wing sauce on Dad because I'd dropped the takeout box onto his foot. How did criminals live with the fear? All I knew was, I was
not
going to leave my room unless it was for a very good reason.

Too bad I'd totally forgotten about what should have been the best reason of all.

I recoiled at another creak outside my door, followed by a light knock.

“Hey, Ana?” For a moment, I thought it was Daz, but then I realized that Daz has never knocked
or
been quiet for a moment in his life.

“Are you there? Did you still want to go to the bookstore?”

The bookstore?

The
bookstore
! My heart dropped to my stomach.

Kevin!

I'd totally forgotten our date! Was it Thursday already?

“What is
wrong
with me?” I whisper-hissed and glared at Darwin as I bolted out of my chair to my closet, knocking over my lemonade onto my lap in the process. He
couldn't
know I forgot. Yanking through the hangers, I searched for something to wear. Of course, now after the whole Ashley thing, I had zero fashion ideas. Teal shirt and khaki shorts? Black tank and jeans? Who forgets a date with the cutest super-genius guy ever?!
Where
is
my
body
spray?!


Braack! What's wrong with me?
” Darwin crowed. I pelted a dirty sock at his head.

Another knock. “Uh…you okay in there? I can come back…” Kevin said. Then Mom's voice echoed through the house.

“Ana! Are you in there? Kevin is here!”

Thanks
for
the
warning, Mom.

I pulled open my door, trying not to look like a complete lunatic. The lemonade stain on my shorts was cold and sticky against my leg.

Be
cool, Ana.

“Hey!” I shouted, trying to act like I was sane and hadn't forgotten about him. I looked back at Darwin, who was nuzzling the backup shirt I'd chosen. Getting his feathery face all over it. “Um.” I held out my finger. “Just one sec. I need to change. I smell like hippos! Go hang out with my parents, and I'll be right there!” I said frantically.

Super smooth, Ana.

Kevin laughed and turned back to the kitchen as I slammed the door closed.

What were the kissing tips again?

I pulled my shirt over my head, switching to a cleaner one. At this point, if it didn't have a lemonade stain or smell like a barnyard, I was ahead of the game. Standing tall, I checked myself out in the mirror, hoping that I looked mature and sophisticated and kissable and all those things that girls on the magazines look like.

Instead I looked like I'd just run a marathon.
Argh
.

I
so
did not feel like I was first-kiss ready in this outfit. Did all first almost-dates feel so rushed? My hair was in a messy ponytail, and my cheeks were beet red. Probably from being scared out of my wits that it was the FBI at the door looking for Ashley's stolen notebook, instead of Kevin.

No! Don't think about that now!

I sniffed my shirt. I still smelled like guilty sweat. Digging around under a pile of clothes on my floor, I still couldn't find my body spray. Tiptoeing across the hall, I ducked into my parents' bedroom. Mom always had perfume lying around on the top of her dresser. I grabbed a curvy blue bottle from the little tray and spritzed some in the air, running through the mist.

Wait.

Sniffing the air, I realized my mistake. Mom usually smells like vanilla and toasted marshmallows or fresh, breezy oceans.

I didn't smell like Mom. I smelled like Dad.

I
smelled
like
a
boy.

Dad had put his cologne on Mom's side of the dresser.


Noooo
.” I breathed, sinking onto their bed. “No, no, no, no, no.” I sniffed the collar of my shirt, testing the smell. Maybe it wasn't that strong? My nose curled in disgust. I
couldn't
show up on my first ever almost-date and smell like a boy. Why was I so bad at this?! Was this bad karma for the Ashley-notebook thing?

I eyed the other bottles. The blue bottle smelled like woodsy boy, but maybe there was a perfume of Mom's that would…complement it? What goes with the woods?

Lifting the bottles, I took a whiff of each one. The mix of my dad's cologne and mom's perfume made my head spin, but I finally decided upon the marshmallowy perfume. I mean, woods and marshmallows go together, right? Where else are you supposed to cook s'mores? Smelling like a nice campfire treat in the woods can't be a
bad
thing.

I prayed to the almost-date gods as I sprayed myself with Mom's bottle. Too bad my nose was too fried to tell if it did any good. I gave one final spritz in the air, walking through the mist on my way out the door.

In the living room, Mom was all smiles. And I don't mean normal smiles. I mean the “I-know-what-you're-up-to-young-lady-and-I-can't-believe-my-little-girl-is-growing-up-it's-killing-me-to-not-get-the-camera-out” smiles. Dad was beside her on the couch, flipping through a thick wad of papers for work. “Kevin said you two are heading to the bookstore?” Mom cooed, giving me the quickest wink in history.

I nodded brusquely, eyeing Kevin to make sure he hadn't seen it. Luckily he's a boy and misses pretty much everything involving daughter-mother interactions. “Yep. We don't need a ride,” I said. “Kev's mom is going to take us.”

Dad looked up, sniffing the air. “Anyone smell that?”

I cleared my throat. This could not be happening. “Okay! We're outta here!” I mumbled, grabbing Kevin by the arm and heading for the door.

“Have fun, you two!” Mom called out, giggling.

Cue eternal embarrassment.

The bookstore smelled like coffee and cookies.

This
would
have been an awesome thing because usually I like the smell of cookies and coffee. But this time all it did was clear my head and nose enough to notice something: I smelled.

No.

Smelled
isn't the right word.

I
reeked
.

It took me about three minutes in the store to notice that my perfume mess combo was probably the worst idea I'd ever had. Worse than the time I tried to dye my hair with Magic Markers when I was six. And worse than the time I tried to hide my hamster, Sir HamstaLot, in my closet when I was five years old because I was
convinced
he was only “playing dead.”

No wonder Kevin's mom kept sneezing in the car.

Kevin strolled through the aisles, looking for his usual section in science and technology. I tried to keep a safe distance, hoping that the smell wouldn't get to him. What sucked even more is that if you're out to get your first kiss, keeping your
distance
isn't exactly the best plan.

But I wasn't going to be defeated. Not by some marshmallow-rotten-woods smell at least. After chomping on three breath mints until my eyes started watering, I decided to move on to step three and get Kevin to teach me something so he could feel important and special.

“So can you tell me about this?” I smiled as flirtatiously as I could and pulled out a book from the shelf.

The mints were still making my eyes blurry, so I couldn't exactly
see
what book I picked. Kevin's eyebrows lifted in surprise.


Nature's Most Dangerous Parasites
,” he read, frowning. “You want me to tell you about parasites?”

I shoved the book back on the shelf, trying to hide my dismay with a well-timed cough. Parasites are like the least kissable thing on the planet. I wiped my eyes. The perfume-mint combo was really getting to me now.

“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.

BOOK: How to Outswim a Shark Without a Snorkel
2.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Captured by Erica Stevens
Almost Everything by Tate Hallaway
Fires of Autumn by Le Veque, Kathryn
Rexanne Becnel by The Matchmaker-1