“New suits. New swim season,” Kendall said. “But one thing won’t change.”
“What’s that?” Shelly asked, quickly avoiding Judy’s nasty gaze. She was excited for her first meet at her new school but even more excited to have another chance to beat Judy Weisberg. The swim team was no joke. They practiced a lot more often than the team at her old school. After classes every day, they met up at a big indoor pool, where Coach Greeley gave them drills after warm-up laps. It was the reason she wasn’t starting the Kids Care Conservation Club chapter. Well, one of the many reasons.
“Obvi, I’m still going to be number one,” Kendall said with a grin.
“Oh. Right,” Shelly said. Of course Kendall was the fastest swimmer. At her last school, which was much smaller, it had been Shelly. But they had practiced in an outdoor pool or swum in the ocean. The indoor pool wasn’t the same. The chlorine smelled stronger inside. The water was too still. No breeze stirred it, and no currents pushed her toward the finish line. At indoor practice, her times had been off. Kendall had been out-lapping her in the drills, but Shelly was still determined to try harder. She was used to being a big fish in a little pond, but at her new school, she was a little fish in a big pond. Not to mention Judy Weisberg was still way out of her league.
“Definitely,” Alana said. “Nobody can beat you at breaststroke, Kendall.”
“Yeah, Kendall. You’re totally the best swimmer at Triton Bay,” Attina added.
“Exactly. And being the best swimmer also means being the most popular,” Kendall said. “We have to beat Little River and win the Bayside Regional Trophy this year. My parents promised to throw us the biggest championship party if we win!”
If that was true, Shelly was nowhere close to being on the popular list.
While her friends continued chattering excitedly about the big swim meet the next day, Shelly nursed her iced latte and wandered to the catwalk that spanned the barrier dividing the aquarium’s enclosed tanks from the open ocean when something in the water caught her eye. She clambered onto the raised platform a few feet over the sea, looking down at the blue-black waves churning below. She peered harder at the sloshing sea. Two eyes popped open in the dark water.
The eyes glowed with a strange yellow light.
What is that? Shelly leaned closer to get a better look, jamming her feet against the edge of the catwalk. It was narrow with no railing. Technically, she wasn’t supposed to be up there, but she did it all the time, despite her father’s warnings that it was a safety hazard. Shelly squinted. The eyes locked on to hers. They glowed brighter. She started and reeled back. She’d never seen anything like it before. She blinked hard. When she looked again, they were gone.
Maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her. After all, it was getting darker out, making it harder to see. She ran through her mental list of sea life, but none had eyes that glowed. Sure, some, like certain species of jellyfish, had bioluminescence—a chemical reaction that let them produce their own light—but they didn’t have eyes like those. Not glowing yellow eyes. She looked down at the nearly drained iced latte in her hand. Too much coffee, she concluded.
Just then, something latched on to her arm.
Shelly jumped and wheeled around, almost losing her balance on the catwalk.
But it was just Kendall, who had grabbed Shelly to keep her from falling over.
“Whoa there, I thought you were a total goner,” Kendall said, steadying her. “What were you thinking, leaning over like that? We don’t want anything happening to you.”
“Aww, thanks. I—I thought I saw something out there,” Shelly said, struggling to catch her breath. Her heart hammered against her rib cage as she thought about the eyes in the water.
Attina and Alana wobbled over in two-inch wedges that threatened to slip on the catwalk.
“I mean, I don’t blame you for wanting to live a little, Shell Bells, b
ut there are other ways to feel a rush of excitement,” said Kendall, clacking her nails against Shelly’s coffee cup. She then aimed a manicured nail at the ocean, where waves pushed up against the barrier, misting the friend group with icy salt water. “Go ahead, chuck it out there,” Kendall said.
“Wait . . . what?” Shelly said, caught off guard. She must have heard her friend wrong. Her eyes darted from the plastic cup, with its two straws, to the signs posted all over the sundeck.
NO LITTERING. $500 FINE.
Kendall narrowed her eyes. “Go on—throw it out there. I dare you.”
The twins giggled. “Do it! Do it!” they chanted.
But Shelly shook her head. “No, it’s cool. I’ll just recycle it inside.” She knew the moment the word recycle left her mouth that it wasn’t going to go over well with her new friends.
“Wait, you’re going to carry that gross thing around?” Kendall said. “Like, what are you afraid of—getting busted? Can’t you do whatever you want? Don’t you, like, own this place?”
“Her folks totally own it,” Attina confirmed with a perky nod.
“Yeah, it’s your aquarium,” Alana added. “Everyone knows it, Shelly.”
“Nobody owns the ocean,” Shelly said in a soft voice. She clutched the cup tighter in her fist. The flimsy plastic crinkled, poking painfully at her skin. “It belongs to everyone,” she said.
Kendall rolled her eyes while the twins snickered. “Don’t tell me you actually care about those stupid fish? Besides, it serves those disgusting creatures right. Just look at my new tank top.” She stretched the fabric out, exaggerating the dark splatters on her expensive yoga clothes.