Page 96 of Instant Karma

Did she call him a nerd? Or was that Janine?

Someone said he was creepy. And oh! Obsessed. Someone definitely insinuated that Jude was obsessed with Maya. But was that her, or one of her friends?

But she definitely said that she wasn’t interested in him, and she said it within earshot of Jude! That’s not okay. That’s downright heartless! And… and…

Honest.

I suppose.

She was being honest. And if she really didn’t know that Jude was there and able to hear her…

“I like her,” says Dad, interrupting my uncomfortable train of thought. He claps his hands as if he’d just completed a day’s worth of work. “You kids sure do have nice friends.”

I give myself a shake before my brain can charge down another bottomless rabbit hole. “I really, really need to get going,” I say.

“Yes, go!” commands my dad. “Make this world a better place! And if you run into any tourists, send them our way, yeah? The crowds are starting to come in for the season, and we could use the business.”

I nod, but I’m not really listening to him. My attention has darted to Jude. “Are you okay?”

He looks dazed and thoughtful as he leans back against the counter. “I don’t look anything like Sadashiv.”

I try not to laugh at this blatantly obvious statement, because Jude really does look weirdly upset by this piece of information. I give him a sympathetic look.

“Jude, he’s supposedly the sexiest man alive. Maybe try not to be so hard on yourself.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

Quint is giving me a sassy look as I race down the beach toward where he’s already set up a couple of tables and carried down a bunch of boxes of supplies. He makes a big show of checking a nonexistent watch.

“Prudence Barnett, you are late,” he says. “You know, my time is valuable, too. Whatever happened to believing in punctuality?”

I scowl at him. “Very cute. Myonetardiness hardly excuses an entire year’s worth ofyours.”

“Maybe. But it’s a start.”

I slap my hands together, scanning the stacks of boxes. “What do we need to do?”

“Help me set up the tent.” He’s brought a large white pop-up tent and stakes to help secure it in the sand. It takes us a few minutes to get it propped up. Quint even made a banner that he ties to the back posts of the tent, readingFREEDOM FOR US, FREEDOM FOR OUR WILDLIFE. Underneath, in smaller letters, it says: “Learn more about the Fortuna Beach Sea Animal Rescue Center!”

We finish setting up the supplies—reusable trash bags, grabbers, gloves—with minutes to spare. I look around, hoping to see a huge crowd of people heading our way, ready to kick off this epic beach-cleanup party.

Instead, what I notice when I finally take the time to scan the beach is slightly disturbing.

I see blue papers.

A lot of them.

“I’m noticing a flaw in our grand plan,” I say, nudging Quint with my elbow. “Why does it seem like half the trash out here today is…”

“Our flyers.” He nods, frowning at the irony. “I noticed that, too.”

“People are jerks.”

“At least we’re out here cleaning it up, and we’ll get a lot of plastics and junk off the beach, too. It’s still a win.”

I pull the zipper of my hoodie up to my neck. The wind is sort of brutal today. I hope we won’t lose our workforce before the big release happens. Fortuna Beach is sunny and warm three hundred and twenty days out of the year, which means we’re all wimps on the other forty-five days. People scurry for cover at the slightest hint of rain, and even an unexpected cold front can turn Main Street into a ghost town.

My nerves begin to ratchet up when five, ten minutes past the start time, it’s still just me and Quint. We keep our conversation light. We busy ourselves tidying the stacks of tote bags.

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