Arrested for shoplifting. Serious shoplifting. Felony shoplifting.
She closed her eyes, reliving it alclass="underline" the way the store manager had glared at her until the officer had arrived, Officer Pete’s disappointment on the drive to the station, the awful phone call she’d had to make to her dad. She’d felt like throwing up on the car ride home.
If there was one bright spot in all that had happened, it was that her dad hadn’t blown a gasket. And even more incredible, he’d said he believed her to be innocent Then again, he hadn’t spoken to Mom yet. As soon as that happened, all bets were off. No doubt Mom would scream and shout until Dad gave in, and he’d end up grounding her because he’d promised Mom that he would. After the Incident, her mom had grounded her for a month, and this was way, way bigger than just an incident.
She felt sick again. She couldn’t imagine having to spend an entire month in her room, a room she had to share, no less, in a place she didn’t want to be. She wondered if things could get any worse. As she stretched her arms above her head, she yelped at a stabbing pain in her shoulder. She lowered them slowly, wincing.
She spent the next couple of minutes dragging her things to the back porch. Even though the nest was behind her house, she didn’t want the neighbors to guess that she’d slept outside. Based on the grandeur of their houses, she pegged them as the kind of people who wanted everything picture perfect when they stood on their back decks drinking coffee in the mornings. The knowledge that someone had been sleeping beside their house probably didn’t fit with their image of perfection, and the last thing she wanted was to have the police to show up again. With her luck, she’d probably get arrested for vagrancy. Felony vagrancy.
It took two trips to get everything-she didn’t have the energy to carry it all at once-and then she realized she’d left behind her copy of Anna Karenina. She’d intended to read it last night, but she’d been too tired and had set it under a piece of driftwood so the mist wouldn’t ruin it. When she went back to get it, she spotted someone wearing a beige jumpsuit advertising Blakelee Brakes, carrying a roll of yellow tape and a bunch of sticks. He seemed to be walking up the beach toward the house.
By the time she’d retrieved her book, the man was closer and hunting around the dune. She started toward him, wondering what he was doing, and then he turned in her direction. When their eyes met, it was one of the few times in her life that she actually felt tongue-tied.
She recognized him immediately, despite the uniform. She flashed on the way he’d looked without a shirt, tan and fit, his brown hair wet with sweat, the macramé bracelet on his wrist. He was the guy at the volleyball court who’d crashed into her, the guy whose friend almost got into a fight with Marcus.
Coming to a halt in front of her, he didn’t seem to know what to say, either. Instead, he just stared at her. Although she knew it was crazy, she had the impression that he was somehow pleased to run into her again. She could see it in his dawning recognition, in the way he began to smile at her, none of which made any sense.
“Hey, it’s you,” he said. “Good morning.”
She wasn’t sure what to think, other than to question the friendly tone.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I got a call from the aquarium. Someone called last night to report a loggerhead nest, and they asked me to come here to check it out.”
“You work for the aquarium?”
He shook his head. “I just volunteer there. I work at my dad’s brake shop. You wouldn’t happen to have seen a turtle nest around here, would you?”
She felt herself relax a little. “It’s over there,” she said, pointing.
“Hey, that’s great.” He smiled. “I was hoping it was near a house.”
“Why?”
“Because of storms. If the waves wash over the nest, the eggs won’t make it.”
“But they’re sea turtles.”
He raised his hands. “I know. It doesn’t make sense to me, either, but that’s the way nature works. Last year, we lost a couple of nests when a tropical storm came through. It was really sad. They’re endangered, you know. Only one out of a thousand live to maturity.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“You do?” He sounded impressed.
“My dad told me.”
“Oh,” he said. He motioned down the beach with a friendly wave. “I take it you live around here?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Just making conversation,” he answered easily. “My name’s Will, by the way.”
“Hi, Will.”
He paused. “Interesting.”
“What?”
“Usually when someone introduces himself, the other person does the same.”
“I’m not most people.” Ronnie crossed her arms, careful to keep her distance.
“I already figured that out.” He flashed a quick smile. “I’m sorry about running into you at the volleyball game.”
“You already apologized, remember?”
“I know. But you seemed kind of mad.”
“My soda went down my shirt.”
“That’s too bad. But you should really try to pay more attention to what’s going on.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s a fast-moving game.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Are you trying to say it was my fault?”
“Just trying to make sure it doesn’t happen again. Like I said, I felt bad about what happened.”
With his answer, she got the feeling that he was trying to flirt with her, but she didn’t know why. It didn’t make sense-she knew she wasn’t his type, and frankly, he wasn’t her type, either. But at this early hour, she wasn’t in the mood to try to figure it out. Instead, she motioned to the items he was holding, thinking it was probably better to get back to the subject at hand. “How is that tape supposed to keep the raccoons away?”
“It doesn’t. I’m just here to mark the nest. I run the tape around the dowels so the guys who do put up the cage know where to find the nest.”
“When are they going to put it up?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Maybe in a couple of days.”
She thought about the agony she’d experienced upon waking, and she began to shake her head. “No, I don’t think so. You call them and tell them that they have to do something to protect the nest today. Tell them I saw a raccoon last night hovering around the nest.”
“Did you?”
“Just tell them, okay?”
“As soon as I’m finished, I’ll make sure to call. I promise.”
She squinted up at him, thinking that was too easy, but before she could dwell on it further, her dad stepped onto the back porch.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” he called out. “I’ve got breakfast going if you’re hungry.”
Will looked from Ronnie to her dad and back again. “You live here?”
Instead of answering, she took a step backward. “Just make sure you tell the people at the aquarium, okay?”
She started back toward the house and had stepped onto the porch when she heard Will call out.
“Hey!”
She turned.
“You didn’t tell me your name.”
“No,” she answered. “I don’t suppose I did.”
As she headed for the door, she knew she shouldn’t look back, but she couldn’t help stealing a quick peek over her shoulder.
When he raised an eyebrow, she kicked herself mentally, glad that she hadn’t told him her name.
In the kitchen, her dad was standing over a frying pan at the stove, stirring with a spatula. On the counter beside him lay a packet of tortillas, and Ronnie had to admit that whatever he was making smelled terrific. Then again, she hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon.