Page 34 of Sharkbait
Our invitation to this event included photos and bios of all the benefactors. I studied the hell out of that thing this weekend in hopes of lessening my inevitable anxiety by recognizing a few names and faces. I’m surprised and relieved to find that so far, at least one person resembles her photo.
“Mrs. Carmello, hi!” I zoom toward the woman and jab my arm at her like a knife. She startles but shakes my hand anyway. What a nice lady.
She tilts her head to the side. “Have we met before, dear?”
“Not in person, no. But I’ve read all about yours and your husband’s contributions to the University. Thank you for all you do for the arts.” I take an ill-timed sip of champagne that goes down the wrong way and leaves me sputtering and coughing.
“My goodness, dear. Are you alright?”
I whack myself in the chest a few times. “Fine, thanks,” I wheeze, then get a wave of unwelcome nostalgia when I remember my family’s nickname for me as a child: Wheezy.
“You’re very welcome, dear. It’s our great joy to give back to this wonderful school. After all, it was here on this campus where my husband and I met and fell in love.”
At that moment, she catches eyes with her husband across the room and gives him the most adorable smile.
“That’s so sweet!” I say and search the place for Ralph. I’m reaching the end of my ability to be socially charming andcould really use an escape at this point. It’s as if the sea of suits swallowed him whole.
Mrs. Carmello pulls me back to the conversation. “Are you in the arts or the sciences, dear?”
A pit forms in my stomach. “Well, I was in the arts. Then I wasn’t. Then I was again. Now I’m really,reallynot again. Why, uh, why do you ask?”
She rubs her neck like I’ve given her whiplash. “Because all the students here tonight are either in the arts or sciences?”
I laugh. “Right, yes. Of course. I am one of the sciencers.”
One of the sciencers? Get it together, Lou.
“What I meant to say is I am a marine biologist. I mean, I’m studying to be a marine biologist, which I also love. As much if not more than I loved art! Because when you think about it, the ocean is one big, beautiful work of art all on her own, yeah? And I get to spend my life studying her and all her beautiful creatures while making a living. A modest one, of course, but what are webcams for, am I right? Hahahaha.”
Mrs. Carmello smiles politely, but her eyes swim in confusion.
TheJeopardytheme music starts playing in my head, softly at first, like it’s steadily traveling toward me through a very long tunnel.
Uh-oh, shit’s about to go down.
“What I’m saying is, it became clear that I was never going to make a living in art, and—I’m sure you know this, Mrs. Carmello—sometimes in life, we must make choices. Decisions. Did you know that the word decision comes from the latin root decidere?”
“Hm. I may have heard that at some point...”
She’s growing tired of me. I can tell.
TheJeopardymusic gets louder.
As do I.
“It’s true. Decidere is the combination of two latin words, ‘de’ which means ‘off’ and ‘caedere’ which means ‘cut.’ That’s right, Mrs. Carmello, the word ‘decide’ literally means to ‘cut off.’ When you make a decision, you are cutting off all other options in favor of what’s the best possible choice for you at that moment. So that’s what I did: lopped off my artistic balls in order to go balls deep into science and only science, and I’ve never been happier.”
“That’s... lovely,” one of Mrs. Carmello’s friends warbles, momentarily saving me from myself. She tucks a stray hair back into her French twist and changes the subject. “How are you liking UPenn so far?”
“Oh, I love UPeen!”
Shit, did I just say UPeen?
“Did I just say UPeen?” I whisper in horror.
“You did,” Mrs. Carmello says, a tinge of pink rising on her cheeks.
“Hahahahahaha!” I don’t recognize the sound of my own laugh. “Gosh, I’m so sorry. Slip of the tongue. I mean mouth. I mean—”
