Chapter 3 Dang It
Dang It
Crew
Rosie dives back into her pool after I feed her the last of the fish from my bucket. Her diving causes some water to splash from outside the pool and onto me. This is what happens when I help the trainers feed the sea creatures twice on the same day.
Since I started my third year at UCLA, I’ve been interning at the Marbella Marine Wildlife Conservatory. Over time, it’s become one of the few places in Los Angeles County to feel like home to me.
Which is a little sad, considering that I’ve lived in Los Angeles almost my entire life.
After coming back from my field quarter, where I studied marine wildlife in Australia, I asked about returning, and they were all but happy to have me back.
My supervisor and head animal trainer, Leo Tucker—or Tuck, as he likes to be called—comes up to me as I pick up the bucket that once carried Rosie’s food from the ground with both hands.
“Crew!” He greets me, patting a hand on my shoulder. “Have you been hanging out with Rosie this entire time?”
“Have you seen her?” I ask, gesturing over to the bottlenose dolphin, who then pokes her head out of the water and trills. Perfect timing, Rosie.
“I have, and if she were a human, she’d be a part of your groupie,” he jokes. “The animal trainers here have worked with her for longer than you, and yet she’s never been as excited as she is when you’re around.”
“What can I say?” I make my way over to the storage closet, where most of the older equipment and supplies are stored, so that the janitors can clean it after the place closes. “I’m just amazing.”
The aquarium is my safe space—aside from the apartment I share with Vinny—and Rosie, the bottlenose dolphin I’ve become quite familiar with in my time here, is one of my favorites to be around.
“Why are you here, anyway?” Tuck asks, grabbing the bucket that carried Rosie’s diet of fish. “No one was expecting you until tomorrow morning.”
I shrug, following him to the storage closet. “I just wanted a break from school.”
He wrinkles his forehead. For a guy his age, he appears very bright and alive.
My supervisor looks a little like Ernie Hudson in his prime.
Not many people my age would know who he is, but I used to keep myself up to date with actors and their accomplishments when I was younger, not by choice, but I still did it.
“Are you sure that’s the only reason you’re here?” He questions. “Be honest.”
“I am.”
“I don’t believe you.” He swipes his key card and opens the storage closet, where it practically overflows with equipment that needs to be cleaned.
Of course, he doesn’t believe me. Like everyone else, Tuck knows about my past. It’s not a secret to anyone technologically advanced enough to type words on a keyboard and use a damn search engine.
“Tuck, I have four more months until I graduate.”
“Yeah, and then you’re going to be around more often.”
I applied for an assistant position that allows me to work closer with the animals than I already do, and I’ll be working here during my gap year while I apply to grad school.
“I’ll have to force you out,” Tuck continues to joke, switching the dirty bucket out for a clean one. “Mingle with other humans your age.”
I don’t say anything as I grab some supplies and step out of the storage closet.
“Oh, that’s why you’re here,” Tuck observes. “You’re having people problems.”
Yeah, I haven’t entirely told Tuck about this situation. Even though this is technically a professional setting, I see Tuck as more of a parental figure than anything else. He’s my mentor in more ways than one.
However, how I feel about Ali Rios is something I would rather not talk about to anyone.
“I’m not having people problems.” The lie falls out so effortlessly. It’s technically not a problem, more like a mini obstacle in the course that is my life. I’ve made it through the underage fame stage of my life, and I can get through a crush. Besides, it’ll just disappear by the time I graduate.
“Yeah. Keep telling yourself that.” He hands me the clean bucket. “Just don’t involve the animals.”
I scoff, glancing at the tank next to me. “I’ll try, but Rosie can be a little nosy. Bottlenose dolphins, remember?”
Tuck shakes his head. “See, if you talked like that in front of other people, then maybe you wouldn’t have people problems.”
When I finally choose to look at my texts, I only see one from Vinny that was sent while I was at the aquarium and two from the person who birthed me.
Mother
We need to talk.
Why aren’t you responding? You better not be at the pathetic excuse for a sea tank.
There’s not enough time in the world for me to reach back to Teresa Shentu. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t even be here. With her, the bad always outweighs the good.
Vinny pats my shoulder. “You okay? You seem tense.”
His question brings me back to the reality of fried food, loud music, and even louder families. We had arrived at Bowl Star about ten minutes ago, and we’ve been waiting for the girls since then.
Bowl Star is in a somewhat sketchy part of Los Angeles, but they have discounts on Fridays.
Being the broke college students that we are, it seemed better than just going to the mall.
The place is pretty retro, as far as bowling alleys go.
The rugs are a deep gray with neon, zig-zag stripes that cut off as soon as you reach the small staircase leading to the lanes, and maple wood flooring.
Flooring that I’m fixating on at the moment.
“Where are the girls?” I ask, trying to take my mind off my messed-up family.
“They needed to make a stop on the way over, so they’ll be here in about a minute.”
By minute, he must mean about ten nanoseconds because as soon as Vinny’s done talking, we spot the girls entering the building, searching for the lane. Carly finds us first, and she nudges Ali, grabbing her attention to our lane. They both wave.
Carly makes her way over first, with a duffle bag slung over her shoulder, while Ali heads over to the desk for bowling shoes.
“Sorry, we’re late, guys,” Carly apologizes with a soft smile on her face as she sits down on the couch. Film-affiliated or not, I can’t argue about how bright her smile is. I can almost argue it’s contagious. Almost, because you don’t see me smiling along.
“Did you bring your stuff, Carly?” Vinny chuckles.
If Carly’s embarrassed, she doesn’t show it. “Can’t let it go to waste, Vinny.”
A small smile breaks through, knowing that I’m not the only one who uses that nickname to annoy him.
“Laugh all you want, now,” she continues. “But, sure enough, you’ll be crying when I win the whole thing.”
He scoffs, game face on and ready for more smack-talk. “Possible, but not probable, Ryder. Crew could easily kick your ass.”
Why did I, of my own volition, surround myself with extremely competitive people? Sure, put me in the spotlight—who cares if I hate it?
She glances at me with a challenging gleam in her bright blue eyes. “I’d like to see you try.”
Ali takes the steps down and plops herself on the couch next to Carly and switches her shoes out. “You guys ready? What are the stakes for this game?”
I shrug. “Loser has to pay for drinks?”
Everyone agrees. Once all of us except for Carly choose our bowling balls—she brought her own, which explains the duffle bag—we input our names into the system, and Vinny goes first. He misses a few pins the first time, but manages to hit two more the second time.
Ali’s next, and she doesn’t hit any of them in the first frame but does pretty well in the second.
Carly heads up before me, and her turn catches me by surprise. I watch her throw the orange bowling ball almost directly near the gutter, but before it can fall, it curves away and knocks down all ten pins.
Maybe I underestimated that smack talk from earlier—she will easily kick our asses. There’s no way she’s paying for drinks tonight.
Finally, it’s my turn. I grab the bright blue bowling ball that I picked as Carly still stands by the lane, watching the machinery reset for my turn. Once it’s ready, I throw the ball onto the lane, watching it roll at a high speed and hit eight pins in the first frame.
“Impressive,” she hums. “Looks like I’ll have my work cut out for me.”
I grab my ball from the conveyor and try to focus on the lane ahead, but I turn back around to glance at the happy couple before turning back as quickly as I can, hoping Carly doesn’t notice because I plan to take this secret to my grave. “I aim to win.”
“Whoa there,” she laughs. “I didn’t say that I was gonna lose.”
I don’t say anything. Just keep my eyes on the lane, and wait to retrieve my ball.
“Do you think I can ask you a question?” She asks, not taking a seat next to me but standing near the gutter, watching.
“As long as it’s not about movies,” I mutter.
“It’s not,” she assures me. “I promise.”
Well, I’ll take whatever small win I can get. After grabbing my ball, I aim and wait for the right moment to throw it.
This is when Carly chooses to ask her question.
“Are you going to tell Ali about your crush on her soon?”
Dang it.