Fathom L. Standage (books for 8th graders .TXT) 📖

the same length as Samantha’s and board shorts sagging near indecency.

“From that guy?”

“Yeah. His name is Cooper.” She turned back to me. “And I might have found out who the guy is from this morning. The picture-snatcher.”

“Who is he?”

“Cooper thinks it could be a guy named Brock Mallory. He lives nearby. Jogs early in the morning. Blond hair.”

“Yeah?” I replied bitterly, “Did he mention anything about him butting into other people’s business and take pictures of strange girls?”

“Nope. Didn’t know a thing about it, but he did say Brock was pretty cool. Like I told you. No weirdos or stalkers, see? Cooper offered to set you guys up…”

“Not interested.” I leaned back on my beach towel.

Sam sighed. “Olivia, you’ve had your heart broken once. It doesn’t mean every guy is like that.”

I stared at my feet. In truth, it went beyond getting cheated on. I didn’t know what a successful relationship looked like. I thought my parents had had one. I thought I had had one.

“I’m done with guys. Marine biology is way more interesting right now. Fish don’t lie, cheat, or otherwise humiliate.”

She sighed again and lay on her back. I wasn’t trying to annoy her. She’d been trying to get me to jump back into the dating pit for months. For some reason, she seemed to think my nonexistent love life reflected badly on her role as best friend.

“Someday, Sam,” I said to placate her. “Right now, I just want to enjoy my summer and figure out my project for the NOA scholarship. No boys and no more drama.”

Soon, we fell into a routine. Samantha got up early to go surfing with Cooper, and I slept until the tide pools opened. That first time I went soured my taste for after-hours exploring. But every time I went back over the next few days, I never saw any sign of the two shady men from my first night in San Diego. Surely I’d never see them again as long as I avoided the really stupid inclination to go back when negative tide fell in the middle of the night.

Problem was, I never saw anything else at the tide pools either. The tourists I’d tried to avoid showed up in droves. And the tides had stopped following the forecast. Despite checking and double-checking the website, the water levels sat disappointingly high. After that second morning of struggling to find anything, I gave up. I watched the ocean as I hiked back up the trail, passing group after group of visitors hiking down. What secrets were left to find in that ocean? What ecosystems, plants, and animals were left to discover? I frowned at the loss of what could have been a great morning. By the time I reached my car and climbed in, I had launched quite a promising pity party.

Any hopes I’d had to come home to a quiet, comforting house were dashed once I walked inside and found Cooper sitting at Aunt Shannon’s dining room table, scarfing down waffles like a long-haired pig in a trough. Sam walked in from the kitchen, her wet hair pulled into two pony tails at the base of her neck. She wore an old tee shirt and swim shorts while Cooper sat shirtless, slurping syrupy waffles. Oh, well. At least I didn’t walk in on them making out.

“Hi, Liv,” said Sam. “Your mom called. She said she’ll deposit some money in your account for a new phone tomorrow. I guess your dad was supposed to do it, but he dropped the ball. Her words, not mine.”

“Oh.” I scowled, hating my parents for still fighting, even now. Cooper chomped another bite of waffle. I grimaced at him, then met Samantha’s eye. She glanced at him, looked back at me, and shrugged.

“How were the tide pools?” she asked.

“Lousy,” I replied. “Too many people. And the tides are too high. It’s weird. Low tide was supposed to shift to mid-morning, but it hasn’t.” I went to the kitchen and opened the fridge for a drink, only to find nearly empty shelves. I settled for the last bit of milk. We needed a trip to the grocery store. “Someone needs to fire the idiot that posts the tidal flow on the website. The guides are usually pretty spot-on. At least they were, up until a couple days ago.” I walked back into the dining room, but Cooper and Samantha didn’t seem to be listening.

“Any more waffles?” he asked. My scowl deepened.

“That’s the last of them,” she replied, pointing to a lone waffle sitting on a plate in the middle of the table. He grabbed it. Okay, guess I wasn’t getting any waffles.

“Did you have a good time surfing?” I asked, barely masking my irritation. Maybe bringing it up would make him want to go back out.

“Yeah, it was fun,” said Sam. “Tiring though.”

“Dude,” said Cooper, spraying a little chewed waffle. He stuffed another bite in his mouth. “Sammy’s a fast learner.”

“He said I have the perfect body for surfing,” she said. I snorted milk. The dude was a complete hound. Cooper jumped from his seat, leaving his syrupy plate and empty glass on the table.

“Welp, tide waits for no one,” he said. “You wanna come back out, Sammy?”

She shook her head. “Maybe another day.”

“Alrighty. Text me,” he said as he made his way back to the front door. The door shut behind him. I raised my eyebrows in distaste. Samantha gave me an apologetic half smile. Or was it a grimace? I took my empty cup back to the kitchen, washed it out, and filled it with tap water. One sip made me gag.

“Is there any bottled water?” I asked.

“Cooper drank the last one,” she replied. I rolled my eyes and opened a drawer for the food money envelope Aunt Shannon had left as payment for housesitting. Sam stayed quiet in the next room. I went back and watched her stare at the messy plates for a minute. She huffed, grabbed the dishes,