Shark Facts

I sat on the bench in front of the enormous glass wall and wiped at my eyes. Mallory and Heather were so mean. I wasn’t even sure why I was still friends with them, to be honest.

“There you are.”

I looked up and swallowed a sigh. It was Brad. We’d been paired up for the field trip when he’d bent down to tie his shoes getting off the bus, and I’d been stuck behind him. We’d always been paired up, ever since kindergarten, since our names were at the end of the alphabet. Walker and Wright. Brad and Cassie.

“Hi, Brad.” I shifted over on the bench, and he sat beside me and looked up at the sharks swimming lazily in front us.

“I lost you for a second there,” he commented, pulling his backpack onto his lap and unzipping it, digging through it for something. He emerged with a tissue and held it out. I stared at it for a moment before begrudgingly taking it and wiping my eyes, then blowing my nose. I was just going to hang on to it or stick it in my pocket when he held out a small, zippered pouch.

“Always be prepared,” he smiled.

I rolled my eyes but tucked the used tissue in the pouch. “You aren’t a boy scout.”

“No, but it’s still a good motto,” he shrugged. “Need another?”

“Not right now, thanks.” I looked back at the sharks. There were a bunch, but I didn’t know any of the species. We’d been kind of let loose in the aquarium and told to meet back at the entrance in two hours to go to lunch. I’d managed to “accidentally” get separated from Brad in the crowd and sneak off with my girlfriends.

“Are you having fun?” he asked, rummaging around in his backpack again.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s an aquarium. Fish aren’t really my thing.”

“No, your thing is history. The museums will be right up your alley.”

I nodded and picked at a loose thread on my shirt. “But you’re probably loving it, right? I bet you’re just itching to tell me all kinds of fascinating fish facts.”

He grinned at me, handing over a strawberry fruit roll-up. “Absolutely. Like, did you know that sharks don’t have bones? They’re all cartilage.”

“Is that so?” I didn’t look up from my roll up. I was busy wrapping it around the tips of my fingers to make claws, like I’d done ever since I was a kid. “Like in your ears? So do shark fossils exist?”

“Yes,” he said excitedly. “I knew you’d ask good questions.” He launched into a detailed explanation about shark fossils that was way over my head. I pretended to listen, nodded along and making encouraging noises while I chewed my roll up finger claws.

“Also,” he continued, passing me a wet nap once my roll up was gone “some sharks have live babies and some lay eggs.”

I raised my eyebrows as I wiped my hands. “That’s weird.”

“I think it’s beautiful.”

“Of course, you do.”

He looked back at the enormous wall of water in front of us, at the giant fish swimming back and forth. “I have ‘swimming with sharks’ on my bucket list.”

“Hopefully in one of those cage things while wearing chainmail or something,” I shuddered. “They would take one look at you and think ‘what a delicious little snack.’” Brad was short and plump, probably about three bites for a great white shark.

He grinned. “But what a way to go.”

I laughed. “I don’t think your mom would agree.” I handed him back the wet nap and into the zippered trash pouch it went.

“Did you know that you can tell how old a shark is by counting the rings in its vertebrae? Like a tree?” He looked at me expectantly.

I stared at him, horrified. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok. Enough with the shark facts. They’re starting to creep me out.”

“All right. Do you want to talk about why you were crying or talk about something else?”

I groaned. “Do we have to talk at all? Why can’t we just sit in silence?”

“You know I’m not really great at silence. It makes me twitchy. I’ve got some mini arcade games in here.” He started rummaging again.

“I hate those things. They’re so loud. Did you ever figure out how to turn the volume down?”

He shook his head. “No, but I did manage to muffle them at little.” He produced Ms. Pac-Man and Galaga, both about twelve inches tall.

I shook my head. “This place is so quiet, and I think Mr. Brinker would get mad if we were sitting here playing video games instead of looking at fish.”

“Good point,” he shrugged, stuffing them back in the bag. “But they’re here if you want them.” He hugged the backpack to his chest and looked back up at the sharks.

We didn’t talk, but it wasn’t more than about a minute before Brad’s feet started tapping, then his knees were jostling, and finally, his whole body was practically vibrating on the bench beside me.

“Oh my god, how do you function in class?” I demanded, reaching over and lightly shoving his shoulder.

He grinned at me. “I have a special allowance. I get extra time to take tests and stuff. Plus, most of my classes are discussions. Not everyone is annoyed by my facts.”

“You are going to be insufferable in college, aren’t you?”

“I’m going to be a hit in college,” he said confidently. “I’m going to study marine biology.

“Oh lord. You’re already halfway through it, aren’t you?”

He laughed. “I’m taking some classes double credit, yes. It’ll make life easier I hope.”

“You should have no trouble getting to swim with the fishes, at least,” I pointed out.

“But which fishes?” he pondered, tapping his chin with one pudgy forefinger. “You should come to the same school. Wherever I go, they’re sure to have a good history program.”

“Who says I want to study history for a degree?” I asked, leaning back on the heels of my hands. “What would I even do with that for a career anyway? Research? Teaching?”

He shrugged. “So, find a good degree program where I am. It would be nice to have a friend at school.”

“Maybe,” I said, nonchalantly. “I haven’t really thought too much about it.”

“Cassie,” he stared at me, horrified. “We’re seniors. You have to be thinking about it already. Maybe not the degree, but the school.”

“Oh, I’ve applied, I just haven’t figured out the degree.”

“Oh.” He visibly relaxed. “Out west? Coastal schools?”

“A couple. Geez, why are you so worried about it? Do you really want to go to the same school as me?” I looked at him with surprise.

“Of course, I do.”

“Oh.” I blinked and straightened up. I was about to ask why when Mr. Brinker walked up.

“Hey kids.” He flashed a grin at us. He was new this year, young and cute, still getting to know everyone’s names. Calling us “kids” meant he clearly had no idea who we were. “How’s it going?”

“Great,” Brad said enthusiastically. “I was just telling Cassie some shark facts. I’m going into marine biology, so this field trip is one I’ve been looking forward to all year.”

“Brad is amazing with marine life,” I added, providing his name for Mr. Brinker. We’d both provided each other’s names for him, saving him the embarrassment of asking, and I could see the relief on his face.

“Excellent,” Mr. Brinker smiled. “What about you, Cassie? What field trips are you looking forward to?”

“I’m a big fan of history, so I’m looking forward to the museum trips coming up,” I said.

“Anthropology!” exclaimed Brad suddenly, making Mr. Brinker and I look at him with confusion.

“Um, what?” I asked.

“Sorry,” Brad said, his ears reddening. “We were trying to figure out a major for her in college that wasn’t just ‘history’ and anthropology could be it. I want my best friend to go to college with me and she’s applied to a bunch of places but doesn’t really have a focus yet. So, I’m trying to help her focus.” He turned to me, excited. “Anthropology?”

I stared at him, trying to sort through the jumble that had just come out of his mouth. Best friend? I was Brad Walker’s best friend?

“Anthropology is a very interesting field, Cassie. Definitely something to consider,” Mr. Brinker was saying. When I didn’t respond, he cleared his throat and wandered off.

Brad was staring at me expectantly. “What?”

“I’m your best friend?” I asked after a beat.

“Well, yeah.”

“But…you’re not my best friend.”

“Well, no, but that’s ok.”

“And I’m…kind of mean to you.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I ditched you when we got here. That wasn’t nice.” I had felt bad doing it at the time, even.

“That was on purpose?” His face fell at that.

“I…well, yeah.” Now I felt worse.

“Oh.” He looked like I’d kicked him. “I thought you liked hanging out with me.”

“I do, actually.” He frowned. “You’re really nice to me. Why?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? You’re really cool, and smart, and funny. You listen to me when I talk.”

“Not all the time, actually.”

“Well, no one listens to me all the time. I talk a lot.”

I breathed out a laugh. “As long as you realize that.”

“What made you cry earlier?” His eyes held mine.

I sighed and looked down at my hands. “Heather and Mallory talked me into ditching you. I let them talk me into it. Then we were walking through the place where the water is all the way around you…”

“And you freaked out because you’re claustrophobic,” he finished.

I looked up. “You remembered?”

“From the zoo field trip in second grade. How could I forget? You threw up on my favorite batman tennis shoes.”

I winced. “I’m really sorry about that.”

He shrugged. “It’s how I knew we were going to be best friends forever, because I just cleaned them up and kept wearing them.”

“Anyway,” I made a face. “I freaked out and they kind of…left me there, after making some really nasty comments. I made it through the walkway and to this bench and I was alone.”

“And then I found you.” He beamed.

“And then you found me,” I agreed.

“So, you should come to school with me, so you never have to go through a claustrophobic tunnel alone with people who don’t care again. I’ve always got my trusty backpack full of everything we need.”

I laughed. “You do. What else is in there?”

“Everything,” he repeated. “You name it, I’ve got it. If you need a change of clothes, I’ve got something. Start your period, I’ve got a selection of supplies. Hungry, selection of snacks. Injure yourself, I’ve got a first aid kid. Bored, I’ve got things to entertain us. I’m always prepared.”

“That thing must weigh a ton.”

“It’s why I’m so buff.”

I grinned. “Too bad we’ve never fallen for each other romantically.”

He shook his head. “I’m not ruling it out in the future, but I think we’re destined to be good friends. I see me with a short redhead and you with someone much taller.”

I shrugged. “Who knows. Stranger things have happened.” I watched the sharks again. The room around us was emptying out as our classmates were heading to the rendezvous point at the front. “I’m sorry I haven’t been nicer. I’ll do better from here on out. I’m done with those two.”

“I appreciate it.”

We stood up and started to follow the flow of traffic, avoiding the underwater walkway and taking the long way.

“So,” I said casually, linking my arm in his. “The west coast and anthropology.”

“It’ll be great,” he grinned. “We’ll compare lists on the bus ride back to school.”