The Last Song

As she stood in her bedroom, she watched Will's sleeping figure from a distance. He was curled up near the turtles' nest; because a few of the other nests had begun to hatch, they'd removed the cage this afternoon, and the nest was completely exposed. Neither of them felt good about leaving it unattended for the night, and because Will was spending less and less time at home anyway, he'd volunteered to watch it.

She didn't want to think about their newfound troubles, but she found herself replaying all that had happened this summer. She could barely remember the girl she'd been when she'd first arrived at the beach. And the summer wasn't over yet; in a couple of days, she'd turn eighteen, and after one last weekend together, Will would be leaving for college. Her next court appearance was scheduled a few days after that, and then she'd have to go back to New York. So much already done and so much left to do.

She shook her head. Who was she? And whose life was she leading? More than that, where would it take her?

These days, none of it and all of it felt real, more real than anything she'd known: her love for Will, her growing bond with her father, the way her life had slowed down, so simply and completely. All of it sometimes seemed to be happening to someone else, someone she was still getting to know. Never in a million years would she have considered the idea that a sleepy beach town somewhere in the South would have been filled with so much more... life and drama than Manhattan.

Smiling, she had to admit that with a few exceptions, it hadn't been all that bad, either. She was sleeping in a quiet bedroom beside her brother, separated only by glass and sand from the young man she loved, a young man who loved her back. She wondered whether there could be anything greater in life. And despite all that had happened, maybe because of it, she knew she would never forget the summer they'd spent together, no matter what the future might bring.

Lying in bed, she began to drift off to sleep. Her last conscious thought was that there was more coming. Although that sensation often foretold the worst, she knew that couldn't be possible, not after all they'd been through.

In the morning, however, she awoke feeling anxious. As always, she was acutely conscious of the fact that another day had passed, meaning one less day left with Will.

But as she lay there, trying to make sense of the unease she felt, she realized it wasn't just that. Will was heading off to college next week. Even Kayla was heading off to college. Yet she still had no idea what was coming for her. Yeah, she'd turn eighteen, and yeah, she'd deal with whatever the court decided, but then what? Was she going to live with her mom forever? Should she apply for a job at Starbucks? For an instant she flashed on a image of herself holding a shovel and following behind elephants at the zoo.

It was the first time she'd confronted the future so directly. She'd always held to the breezy belief that everything would turn out okay, no matter what she decided. And it would, she knew... for a while. But did she still want to be living with her mom at nineteen? Or twenty-one? Or, God forbid, twenty-five?

And how on earth was someone supposed to earn enough on her own--and afford to live in Manhattan--without a college degree?

She didn't know. All she knew for certain was that she wasn't ready for the summer to end. She wasn't ready to go back home. She wasn't ready to think about Will wandering the green quads at Vanderbilt, walking beside coeds in cheerleader outfits. She didn't want to think about any of it.

*

"Is everything okay? You've been kind of quiet," Will said.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It's just that I've got a lot on my mind."

They were sitting at the pier, sharing bagels and coffee, which they'd picked up on the way. Usually the pier was crowded with people fishing, but this morning they had the place to themselves. A nice surprise, considering he had the day off.

"Have you given any thought to what you want to do?"

"Anything that doesn't involve elephants and shovels."

He balanced his bagel on the Styrofoam cup. "Do I want to know what you're talking about?"

"Probably not," she said, grimacing.

"Okay." He nodded. "But I was talking about what you wanted to do for your birthday tomorrow."

Ronnie shrugged. "It doesn't have to be anything special."

"But you're turning eighteen. Face it--that's a big deal. You'll legally be an adult."

Great, she thought. Yet another reminder that time was running out to figure out what she was going to do with her life. Will must have read her expression because he reached over to put a hand on her knee.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No. I don't know. I'm just feeling weird today."

In the distance, a pod of porpoises broke the water beyond the swells. The first time she'd seen them, she'd been amazed. Even the twentieth. Now, they were a regular part of the scenery, but even so, she'd miss them when she was back in New York, doing whatever it was she was going to do. She'd probably end up addicted to cartoons like Jonah and insist on watching them upside down.

"How about I take you out to dinner?"

No, scratch that. She'd probably end up addicted to Game Boy. "Okay."

"Or maybe we'll go dancing."

Or maybe Guitar Hero. Jonah liked to play that for hours. And so had Rick, now that she thought about it. Pretty much everyone without a life was addicted to that game. "Sounds fine."

"Or how about this? We paint our faces and try to summon ancient Incan goddesses."

Addicted to those lousy games, she'd probably still be living at home when Jonah went off to college in eight years. "Whatever you want."

The sound of Will's laughter was enough to bring her attention back to him. "Did you say something?"

"Your birthday. I was trying to figure out what you want for your birthday, but obviously you're out in never-never land. I'm leaving on Monday, and I want to do something special for you."

She thought about it before turning toward the house, noticing again how out of place it was along this stretch of beach. "You know what I really, really want?"

It didn't happen on her birthday, but two nights later, Friday, August 22, was close enough. The staff at the aquarium really did have the whole thing down to a science; earlier that afternoon, workers and volunteers from the aquarium had begun to prepare the area so the turtles could reach the water safely.

She and Will had helped smooth the sand in the shallow trench that led to the ocean; others had put up caution tape to keep the crowd at a safe distance. Most of the crowd, anyway. Her dad and Jonah had been allowed inside the taped area, and they were standing off to the side, out of the way of the bustling workers.

Ronnie didn't have any idea what she was supposed to do, other than make sure no one got too close to the nest. It wasn't as if she were an expert, but when she wore the Easter-egg-colored aquarium outfit, people assumed she knew everything. She must have answered a hundred questions in the last hour. She was pleased that she'd been able to remember the things Will had first told her about the turtles and also relieved that she'd taken a few minutes to review the loggerhead fact card the aquarium had printed up for onlookers. Pretty much everything that people wanted to know was already there in black and white, but she supposed it was easier to ask her than glance at the card they held in their hands.

It also helped to pass the time. They'd already been out here for hours, and though they'd been reassured that the nest might begin to hatch any minute, Ronnie wasn't so certain. The turtles didn't care that some of the little kids might be getting tired or that someone might have to get up early to go to work the next morning.

Somehow she'd imagined that there would be only half a dozen people out here, not the hundreds massing all along the caution tape. She wasn't sure she liked it; it kind of made the whole thing feel like a circus.

As she took a seat on the dune, Will came over to her.

"What do you think?" he asked, gesturing at the scene.

"I'm not sure yet. Nothing's happened so far."

/>   "It's not going to be long now."

"So I keep being told."

Will took a seat beside her. "You need to learn patience, young grasshopper."

"I am patient. I just want the hatching to happen sooner rather than later."

He laughed. "My mistake."

"Shouldn't you be working?"

"I'm just a volunteer. You're the one who actually works at the aquarium."

"Yes, but I'm not being paid for my time, and technically, since you're a volunteer, I think you should man the caution tape for a while."

"Let me guess--half the people ask what's going on, and the other half ask questions that are answered on the card you hand them."

"Pretty much."

"And you're tired of that?"

"Let's just say that it wasn't as much fun as dinner the other night."

He'd taken her out to a cozy little Italian place for her birthday; he'd also bought her a silver necklace with a silver turtle pendant, which she loved and had been wearing ever since.