Page 81 of Sharkbait
I take a seat on a stone bench dedicated to a biochemistry major from 1971 so I can read the good news alone before heading inside.
Look at me expecting the best instead of the worst!
Progress.
The subject line reads: Urgent.
Huh. Maybe they want me to start right away instead of this spring?
That scenario would not be ideal, but maybe James is right, and the universe is looking out for me. What did he say? That sometimes the universe has better plans for us than we have for ourselves?
And maybe he’s onto something with this synchronicity thing too, because as soon as I started stressing over the lack of response to the application... boom. There it was.
When I open the email and read it out loud, I feel my face immediately fall.
Dear Ms. Anderson—
We regret to inform you that although your application was one of the best we received, we will not be offering you an internship at the Center for Coral Conservation this year.
For more information as to what informed our decision, please review the linked article in this email.
Perhaps more importantly, we regret to inform you that The Corbin Bellows Foundation will no longer be acting as benefactor for your enrollment at The University of Pennsylvania’s Graduate Studies in Marine Biology.
Your scholarship is rescinded effective immediately.
Best of luck with your future endeavors.
Sincerely,
Maria Costa
CF Foundation
Chapter Twenty
Louise
I am as surprised as anyone about where I end up next.
Am I on the phone with my wonderful, supportive brother?
No.
Out for a girls’ night with Calliope and Mabel?
No.
I am at Adventure Bar, crying my eyes out while James pours me a drink and listens to every snot-infused word I have to say.
“The article has this huge picture of me with this dopey look on my face.” I sniff. “Like I’ve been caught red-handed. But I’m sort of smiling too, like I love being naughty or something.” I take a second to blow my nose. “And next to me, clear as day—seriously, it’s like those kids took journalistic photography lessons or something—is a big-ass Jupiter ass smooshed up against the window.”
“Oh God.” James places my beer in front of me. “Damn, that sucks.”
“I mean, how does someone get perfect lighting with a sneaky, nighttime cell phone photo like that?” I sniffle. “I couldn’t do that if I tried.”
“Kids today.” Ralph shakes his head.
This gets a snorty laugh out of me. “Aren’t you too young to say, ‘kids today?’”
