“Heeboo’s hiding from you,” Seth whispered.
“She seems to be more private now, with the baby. But she still loves me.”
He shook his head. “How can the anteater be someone’s favorite? They’re so odd looking.”
I gasped. “She’s beautiful.”
He laughed as Stan headed down Monkey Row before he doubled back and stopped in front of the amphitheater.
“I think that took us longer than if we’d walked,” I said, sliding to the ground.
“But it was twice as fun.” Seth jumped down, then gave Stan a high five.
One of the zookeepers was onstage setting up, and Seth and I got to work, straightening out rows of benches for the audience.
I took in our surroundings—the big trees that created a canopy over the top of us, the animal noises providing the soundtrack. It may have been a small zoo (well, aside from the fifty monkeys!) but everything about it made me happy. I looked back at Seth. Everything.
When the animal show ended, we headed back toward Carol for our next assignment.
“Where is Stan when we need him? Now we have to walk like suckers,” Seth said as we made our way up the incline.
“Walking regularly improves mood, balance, and coordination,” I said, then just as quickly wished I hadn’t. “I’m sorry.”
“Why? It was informative.” There was a smile in his voice.
“Sometimes random facts just pop into my head.”
“Sometimes random movie lines just pop into my head. I understand the need to share them.”
I laughed.
An elderly woman wearing a sweat suit approached us.
Before she opened her mouth, Seth said, “Straight ahead and to the left.”
“What?” she asked.
“Bathroom,” I filled in for him.
“Oh. No, I was hoping you could take a picture of me and my granddaughters by the ocelot?” She hitched her thumb over her shoulder toward the cage where the small leopard-type creature slept in a patch of sunlight. She held out a bigger camera than I’d ever seen before in my life. “You’re good with technology, right?” she asked Seth.
“Um … ” Seth caught the camera as she practically dropped it into his hands and walked toward the cage. “Because I’m Asian?” he whispered to me.
“That or she’s heard you’re an amazing filmmaker,” I said with a smile back.
“Oh yeah. You’re probably right. I forgot how far-reaching my reputation is.”
The lady and two pig-tailed girls stood by the fence, and Seth lifted the camera. “You look amazing,” Seth said, looking at the tiny screen.
“Thank you,” the woman responded.
“Oh, I was talking to the ocelot.”
I giggled as Seth snapped a picture and handed the lady back her camera.
We continued on, and Seth asked, “So, why were you texting me in the first place?”
“Oh, right. I was going to invite you to a party I’m throwing for my birthday tomorrow.” I shrugged. “But you’re grounded, so I guess you don’t get to come.” I didn’t want my voice to betray the slight disappointment I felt.
“Another reason to hate my parents.”
“It’s yourself you should hate, Seth, for your poor choices.”
He laughed. “Don’t repeat that to my parents or they’ll tell me to marry you.”
I snorted.
“Tomorrow is your birthday, huh? How old are you going to be?” Seth asked as we reached Carol. Thankfully she was on the phone so we had a minute to ourselves.
“Eighteen,” I replied.
He gave a low whistle. “All grown up.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. What are you, a whole two months older than me?”
“It makes a difference.” He grinned, then added, more seriously, “Sorry I can’t come. Thanks for inviting me, anyway.”
“How long is your grounding sentence?”
“Not sure. A week. Maybe less if I do something nice for my mom.”
“Is that how it works?”
“Usually.”
“Well, go you!” I said, and immediately regretted it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that so loud.”
He laughed. “I never pinned you for a cheerleader.”
“I should’ve added that to my list of extracurriculars. Who knew I was so good at it?”
“You can be my cheerleader any day, Maddie.”
We both paused, looked at each other, then laughed.
Through his laugh Seth said, “That came out weird.”
“No worries.” I knew Seth didn’t think of me as more than a friend, which was exactly how I needed it to be. School, and college, were the most important things in my life at the moment. Nothing—I looked at Seth—or no one would change that.
“Did you get it?” Blaire asked with a big smile when I walked into her house after work.
“Get what?” My arms were full of my study materials and the snacks I’d bought that morning at the store. I was still in my zoo T-shirt.
Blaire held up a big white envelope.
My heart skipped a beat. “No. I came straight here from work. Which school?”
“San Diego State.”
I dropped my armload on her table. “And? Did you get in?”
“Of course. Just like you will.”
I threw the pack of Sour Patch Watermelons at her head a little harder than I intended and she held up her hands to block the assault.
“What? We shouldn’t be confident?” Blaire asked. She picked up the pack of candy and opened it.
“I don’t want to jinx it. With my luck, I won’t get into any colleges.”
Blaire groaned. “What do you always say? There is no luck involved. This is about hard work, and we both know you’ve put in the time.”
She was right. I had worked hard. I was a 4.25 GPA student, with extracurricular experience that included volunteer work, community outreach programs, clubs, and college prep courses. I had done almost everything on the “how to earn a scholarship” list I’d printed out years ago and stuck on my magnet board in my room. I wasn’t just going to get into every college I applied to, I was going to have college paid for. I had to have it paid for.
I picked up Blaire’s envelope. It was heavy in my hands. I turned it over and over again. “Is this the only one you got today?” It was taking everything in me not to skip this study session and go home to check my mail.
“Yes. No Stanford yet.”
Stanford was Blaire’s top choice, and she’d tried to convince me to make it mine as well. Stanford, like Blaire often pointed out, was one of the best schools for veterinary medicine (my dream job), as well as the best school for primary medicine (her dream job). But even though she was right, and in my heart of hearts I knew it was probably the perfect school for me, Stanford was in Northern California, which wasn’t as close to Southern California as it sounded. Blaire had practically forced me to apply. She thought that I’d want to flee from my dysfunctional family. My family may have been dysfunctional, but they were mine, and I was the only one holding them together. The strings I was using were so frayed that I was sure without me they’d snap and everything would be broken. I needed to stay as close as possible. I needed to know I could come home regularly and check on everyone.
So my top choice was UCLA. Just far enough away to live on campus, but still only an hour-long drive back home. Plus, it was an excellent school. I wasn’t sacrificing anything by staying close.
The back door opened and Elise bounded into the kitchen. She still wore her tutu from earlier. Blaire and I immediately stopped talking about college. Elise was going to a community college and, depending on her mood, was very touchy about it.
“You didn’t change at home?” I asked.
“I’m channeling my inner dancer.” Elise grabbed my hand and spun me toward her.
“I like your inner dancer,” I said.
“As you should.” She let me go and her eyes zer
oed in on the college packet that sat on the table. “Whose acceptance letter?”
“Mine,” Blaire said. “I got into San Diego State!”
“Nice! Congrats.” Elise looked from Blaire to me and then back again. “You weren’t going to tell me?”
“Of course I was,” Blaire said. “I was distracted by your tutu.”
She shook her head. “Just because I don’t have all your brains doesn’t mean I’m a crappy, jealous friend. Tell me things like this.”
“We will,” Blaire said. “Promise.”
“Ditto,” I said. I picked up the bag of pretzels and handed them to Elise. “I brought you a snack.”
“Thanks!” Elise said. “My favorite.”
I went to the cupboard in Blaire’s kitchen and retrieved three glasses. “Speaking of snacks, what kind of candy does Boyfriend like? I need to know for my party tomorrow.”
“Colton. His name is Colton,” Elise huffed.
“His name is Colton?” Blaire asked. “Huh.”
I knew she was kidding but Elise still scowled in her direction. Then she turned to me and said, “I’m not sure. I just started dating him a couple weeks ago.”
“Find out and text me.” I poured Mountain Dew into our cups and took a swig of mine right away. I needed caffeine. It had already been a long day and we had at least three hours of studying ahead of us.
“I don’t think you can call something a party when only three people are invited,” Elise said as if she’d been thinking about this fact since our talk earlier today.
“I actually invited four, but Seth couldn’t come.”
“Zoo Seth?” Elise asked.
“Yes, but don’t call him that if you ever meet him.”
She laughed. “I’m sad he can’t come. I wanted to finally meet the infamous Seth.”
“Infamous? I wouldn’t call him infamous.”
“What would you call him?” Elise asked.
I looked up in thought. “Talked-about-on-occasion.”
She nodded. “Okay, I wanted to meet the talked-about-on-occasion Zoo Seth.”
“Yes, it would’ve been fun. He’s fun. But whatever. No Zoo Seth.”
“We are talking entirely too much about boys for a study session,” Blaire said from her spot at the table.
“Yes, you’re right,” I said with a sigh, sitting down beside her and reaching for my Reese’s Pieces. “Let’s get to work.”
I opened my front door quietly. The house was still and dark, and I took a moment to appreciate it. It was rarely quiet in my home.
Before heading to my room, I stopped by the kitchen, flipped on a light, and looked through a stack of mail by the phone. There was nothing for me. I searched the drawers, but they were only full of odds and ends—batteries, pens, paper clips, pushpins, and a variety of other things that didn’t include a letter from San Diego State. Blaire had gotten her letter today. Did that mean I hadn’t gotten in? Maybe my mom had put the letter in my room.
A blue glowing light from the den caught my eye so I followed it. My brother sat on the couch watching some late-night television.
“Hey, Beau,” I said. “Do you know if there was any mail for me today?”
“Not sure.” He glanced at his phone. “Are you sneaking in late?”
“I’m not late, I just didn’t want to wake anyone.”
“Big night?” He looked at my outfit like Maxine at the corner mart had, with mild disdain.
“Studying with friends.”
He shook his head. “Only my sister would sneak in after a study session.”
“Why are you still up?”
“Can’t sleep.” He probably couldn’t sleep because he’d slept all day. “It’s not like I have anything to do tomorrow.”
“Are you regretting taking a semester off college?”
“No. I’m regretting not being able to find a job to pay for my next semester of college.”
“You should come to the zoo with me next week.”
“You’re in charge of giving people jobs now?”
“No, but they have a volunteer program you could sign up for. And if they like you, it could transition into a job.”
“Pass.”
“Come on. It’s actually really fun. I think you’d like it. The animals don’t try to talk to you or anything.”
He met my eyes with a tired stare. I didn’t like seeing him so down. I was used to my loud and fun brother. The one who hung out with his friends and always had something going on. This new version of him worried me.
“No, Maddie. That’s your thing.”
“You need to find a thing.”
He pointed to the television. “I found it.”
“A real thing. Not one where you sleep all day and sit in the dark all night.”
“Why don’t you work on saving animals, not people? You’re better at it.” Beau used his hand to shoo me away, turning his attention back to the television.
I sighed and headed into my room. After a thorough search, I found no San Diego State packet. I changed into my pajamas and fell into bed, determined not to think about college again tonight.
I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t stop analyzing the probability of whether San Diego State sent out their packets in waves or all at once. It was now 1:45 a.m. Years ago my mom used to come into my room at this exact minute and whisper “Happy birthday” in my ear. My gaze went toward the door, as if my thinking about it would bring her here now. It didn’t. There were a lot of things my mom used to do.
I shook my head. I’d already mentally chastised my brother tonight for being mopey. I wasn’t about to join him. Besides, I was eighteen now. I didn’t need childish traditions. “Happy birthday to me,” I said to myself with a smile.
I opened my eyes and stretched. Saturday morning. I was tempted to roll back over and sleep for another hour. Today of all days, I had the right to be lazy. But then my mind started running through the list of everything I had to do. I needed to shop for the party, and clean the living room where we’d hang out later, and shower.
I left my bedroom and heard my parents before I saw them.
Dad said, “Maybe if you had put it away when you were done, you’d know where it was.”
“Craig, all you had to say was no. No, you don’t know where it is. Do you have to turn everything into an insult?”
“I was just pointing out that I was the only one who cleaned around here.”
“Then why don’t you know where it is?” she asked.
“Are you serious?”
I stepped into the kitchen. “Good morning,” I said, even though it obviously wasn’t. But it was the same as most mornings, so at least it wasn’t worse than normal. And that was good … sort of.
My parents hadn’t always fought. The fighting started after my dad lost his job three years ago. He had yet to find a new one. I’d once heard money issues were the number one cause of divorce. I hoped that wasn’t true. I hoped that once my dad found a job and my mom didn’t have to work overtime and double shifts to cover our cost of living that everything would be fixed. In the meantime, we just had to make it through this rough patch.
“What are you looking for, Mom? Maybe I put it away,” I said.
“That can’t be true because your dad is the only one who ever puts things away.”
My dad let out a heavy sigh. “Don’t be … ” He glanced my way. “Mean. Don’t be mean. Just look for your stupid ID.”
“Have either of you seen any college mail for me?” I asked, trying to turn their attention to something different.
“I thought I saw something the other day.” Dad leafed through the stack by the phone. “I hope it didn’t get thrown out with the ads.”
My heart seemed to stop.
“You threw out Maddie’s college letter?” Mom asked.
“No. Of course not.” He got to the end of the stack. “Well, not on purpose.”
“I swear, Craig, sometimes … ”
“Som
etimes what?” he asked.
“Are we still doing my birthday lunch today?” I blurted out.
Both of them, at least, had the decency to look chastised. They stepped toward me with “Happy birthday” spilling out of their mouths. I accepted a hug from each of them.
“Yes, of course we are,” Mom said. “I have to run into work for a few hours this morning and your dad is going to do a last-minute errand, but yes, I took the afternoon off just for you.”
A last-minute errand? Was it a birthday errand? What did my parents have up their sleeves? Something exciting for my biggest birthday yet?
Mom ran a hand down my cheek. “My new adult.”
I laughed. “I know, I’m so mature now.”
“I’ll see you for lunch.” She kissed my cheek and was gone. My dad followed soon after.
I searched the pantry for my favorite cereal that my mom only bought for my birthday. Cookie Crisp. It couldn’t really be called cereal when it was more sugar than substance, but I only ate it once a year so I was okay with that. I found the box but when I lifted it from the shelf it was too light. I saw that it was basically empty—three small cookies and a pile of cookie dust was what now sat on the bottom of my bowl.
“I hope you had a horrible sugar crash last night, Beau,” I mumbled, throwing the box away. I poured some milk over my cookies anyway and ate them one at a time, savoring each bite. I didn’t need childish birthday traditions, anyway. I had a banana and moved on to my shower.
The rest of the morning went more smoothly. I had just enough of my favorite coconut conditioner left for my hair. I found all the required food and drinks for my party at the supermarket, some of it even on sale. And the living room was mostly clean. It just needed a five-minute vacuum and dusting. Plus, I was never much of a style genius, but my outfit felt exceptionally cute, too—peasant top, skinny jeans, purple ballet flats. Now it was time for the fun part of the day—lunch and then party with friends.
The car ride to my birthday lunch was mostly silent. But sometimes no talking was better for our family.
“This is the place you chose?” Beau asked as my dad pulled into the lot at Claudia’s. “You don’t even like Mexican food.”