Sometimes I wonder if my aspirations sound silly, like the longings of a little kid who’s just visited Sea World. But marine biology is the only future I’ve ever wanted.
Henry leans in. Softly, he says, “Piper, tell me.”
God, he disarms me. More than that, it’s nice to have a meaningful conversation. Since my falling out with Gabi, I’ve existed in a world of one.
“Marine biology,” I say. “I want to work with marine animals.”
He smiles. “Like you do now.”
“Yeah, but professionally. With a head full of knowledge about what it takes to help them thrive in their natural environment.” I fold my hands on the tabletop. “My parents met at the University of New England. My mom studied aquaculture and aquarium sciences, and my dad majored in marine affairs—so, conservation. I wish I could do something similar. Money’s an issue, though. Degrees aren’t free.”
When she sold our childhood home, Tati divided the profit between my parents’ funeral costs and legal expenses, which she vaguely explained as being related to her accepting guardianship, then invested what was left in a 529 college savings plan for me. So thereismoney. But given how much out-of-state tuition and living expenses cost, that account will dwindle quickly if I leave Florida.
“I get it, trust me,” Henry says. “But there are scholarships. Grants. Loans.”
“Yeah, there are. And if I go to college, I’ll probably have to apply for all three. My biggest roadblock is Tati. She wants me to do something practical. Something that’ll earn me money and accolades. A career that requires power suits, not wet suits.”
“Uh, with all due respect, who cares what Tati wants? It’s your life.”
True. But what I’d never say aloud is this: My sister gave up everything to take care of me. She left Boston, a city she adored, and all of the friends she’d made there. She abandoned a hard-won interior design internship and a boyfriend who had no interest in moving to Florida or helping to raise a kid he didn’tknow. She sold our beloved childhood home to crawl out of debt. She took a lower management position at a beachside apartment complex because entry-level design jobs are hard to come by in resort towns. She abandoned her dream of owning her own design firm and chased promotions within the property development company that owns the Towers so we could continue to live here. We fight like an old married couple, but in the tenderest part of my heart, I’m thankful for Tati.
Also, I feel indebted, like I owe her a white-collar career and a prosperous future. The life she hasn’t been able to have because of me.
“Tell me to shut up if I’m overstepping,” Henry says, “but I think you should give marine biology a shot. It’s your passion, your legacy. At least explore your options.”
“I have a little.” And then I tell him about Hawai‘i Pacific University. The more I talk, the more my excitement grows. “I’d love to live on an island,” I say. “Or in Oregon or South Carolina or in the Northeast, like my parents. I want to leave Florida. I want to see more. I want—”
I want room to figure out who I am apart from my sisteris what I’m about to say, but before I can get the words out, the front door opens. From my seat at the dining table, I watch a man with tousled brown hair and a plaid button-down—a man who looks a lot likeThe Hangover–era Bradley Cooper—step into the foyer.
My mouth falls open.
Tati’s recent hookup.
Before I can work out what he’s doing here in the apartmentthat belongs to Henry’s father, Henry greets him.
“Hey, Dad. We saved you some fries.”
Henry
“Thanks, buddy,” Dad says, standing motionless in the entryway, staring at Piper.
I clear my throat.
He reanimates.
He leaves his canvas satchel—cooler than a briefcase, he says—on the floor. I guess I’ll put it away later, like I put away the coffee mug he used this morning, along with the jar of hair putty he left on the kitchen counter.
I don’t even know what hair putty does.
Usually, my dad bounces around like a kid who’s slurped down a giant Mountain Dew, but tonight he’s subdued. He cruises over the table, takes a napkin, and piles leftover fries on it. Then his gaze returns to Piper. He looks at her like he recognizes her. Hell, maybe he does. They’ve both lived at the Towers for the last several years, and Sugar Bay is small. It’s not far-fetched that they might’ve run into one another before tonight. But if he knows her, why doesn’t he say so?
She boldly returns his stare.
What the fuck is going on?
It’s not like my dad’s being creepy. He’s not checking her out—I’ddie—but he’s being really freaking weird. Is he so shocked that I’ve invited a girl over?
“Dad,” I say, breaking the silence.
