Page 11 of Trick Shot
“And you’re lucky enough to be one of them,” I say, with no trace of humor. “And sadly, you’re the hottest and the biggest.”
4
Claire
My major is journalism, and even though the second semester of my senior year is literally days away, I’m wondering if I could pick up a minor in Avoidance.
I successfully steered clear of Pete all day yesterday. Sure, I was supposed to do my final rotation of the day with him at the dolphin swim, but I played dumb and stayed inside at the stingray enclosure all day. It’s not like anyone here is really keeping track. I mean, they say attendance is required, but I haven’t seen Mandi at a single session yet, so I’m not too worried.
I’m not so sure my strategy of hiding out will work today, but I’m sure as hell going to try, even if I have to spend the day scrubbing tanks or serving up buckets of smelly fish.
Anything is preferable to looking Pete in the eye after my tirade at Smitty’s the other night. Don’t get me wrong. Every word I said was true. But if I could rewind the clock, I’d definitely skip the part where I looked into his eyes and told him exactly how hot he was.
Naturally, my only recourse is to avoid him at all costsand pretend he doesn’t exist. We’re only here for nine more days. How hard can it possibly be?
Carrying my camera bag and a cup of coffee, I walk into the building, excited for another day of drudgery and dodging. I figure that if I keep my head down and act like I know what I’m doing, I should be fine. Five steps inside, I realize my luck has run out.
“Claire, there you are.”
Pete’s booming voice grates even more than usual, which should be impossible. I should have dyed my hair last night. Or bought a fake ID and an alias. I’m sure someone in my building sells them.
Since I’m still brown-haired, blue-eyed Claire Elizabeth Fowler, I have to face Pete head-on. I have no other recourse, especially since he’s not alone. Dr. Navarro, my professor for this minimester, is standing right beside him. Dammit.
“Hey, Claire,” Pete says congenially, “I know you got stuck doing all the indoor rotations yesterday. We just finished setting up for the morning dolphin swim and there’s room for one more. You want in?”
Yes, of course I do. Who doesn’t want to swim with freaking dolphins? But also, no, no, I don’t. Not unless one of the dolphins eats you first.
“Sure,” I say, my smile tight. “That would be great.”
“Claire, you’re going to love it,” Dr. Navarro says, her enthusiasm contagious. “This really is one of those experiences you simply can’t duplicate in a classroom.”
“Great,” I chime in as Dr. Navarro leads us through the lobby and out to the beach.
I can feel Pete’s eyes on me, so I study the top of my to-go cup with unparalleled concentration. I can almost hear his mouth opening and closing as though he’s attempted to start about three conversations andabandoned each one at the last second. That’s good. I hope he keeps it up.
We make our way down to the water where several other students and assistants are waiting. I stow my bag in one of the cubbies and peel off my shorts and tee. Heat washes over me, and I could swear Pete’s eyes are tracking my every move, but when I spare a glance in his direction, he’s deep in conversation with Dr. Navarro.
Great. So, this attraction is one-sided. And he knows it. And we’ll be swimming together all morning. And I have to pay attention to him because he’s one of the freaking teachers. Awesome.
Greg, another assistant, helps me into flippers and fits me with a mask. We’re all given life jackets as well, but since we’ll spend the first part of the morning standing in ankle-deep water, they’re not required just yet.
We all troop out into the ocean, and when Pete sidles up next to me, I look him in the eye. I’m mortified, yes, but I’m no coward.
“Hey, sorry for springing this on you, but Dr. Navarro just asked for a list of all the students who hadn’t completed the required sessions yet. I didn’t want you to get in trouble, so when I spotted you?—”
“It’s fine,” I say, cutting him off. “My head was still pounding yesterday, so I stayed inside and finished my lab work. I intended to join your dolphin swim today, even before you saw me in the lobby.”
“Good,” he murmurs. I can tell from the look in his eye that he doesn’t quite buy my lie, but he doesn’t call me out on it, either. “I was afraid I caught you off guard. Do you have sunscreen? A hat?”
“I’m good,” I assure him. I have neither of those things, but class is about to start, and there’s no way I’m drawing negative attention to myself by being the girl whocame unprepared. Besides, we’ll only be out for a few hours, so I know I’ll be fine. Hell, in this strappy little bikini, I’ll probably end up with a killer tan. It’s the least I deserve.
Pete joins Greg and Dr. Navarro, and they proceed to point out all of the things we’re to look for once we begin the swim. We wade a bit further out, most of us still holding our life jackets, and Pete takes the reins, explaining how we’ll test the dolphins’ response to certain stimuli. I hate to admit that he’s much easier to follow than Dr. Navarro or Greg. Our professor is a genius, no doubt, but she’s tearing through the material like we’re all well-versed in it. I read the guidebook ahead of time, so I’m able to follow along, but based on the whispers and looks from the other students, most people are lost. And Greg’s nasally voice isn’t helping.
Greg drones on and divides us into smaller groups. I’m paired with Davis, a fellow senior. I’ve seen him around campus, and I think he’s an ed major like Pete. There’s no time for chitchat, though. We get to work quickly. Our objective is to record the dolphins’ responses to different stimuli at each station. Davis has got the water-proof tablet and I’m busy figuring out how to use the echolocation device at our first station. At five-eleven, I’m a tall woman, and though I’m sure Davis lists his height at five-ten, when we face each other, I could easily rest my chin on the top of his head. That means my boobs and his eyes are at the same level.
He doesn’t seem overly interested in ogling my B-cups, and that’s good, since I’d rather not deck anyone this morning. It might scare the dolphins. And he’s a great partner. He listens to everything I’m saying and doesn’t try to take over or mansplain science to me.
“How’s it going over here?” Pete asks, and I wonder how in the world someone so large can be so stealthy?
