Girl at Sea Read Free Page A

Clio shook some into her palm and licked them off.
    “I’m thirty percent more lovable than when I left,” she said, picking the last spare seeds off her hand and popping them into her mouth triumphantly. “Ask me why.”
    “Impossible,” her mom answered. “You’re already too lovable.
    Did your dad call?”
    “Yes,” Clio said. “About sixty times. But I’m about to get unbearably lovable. Go on. Ask me why.”
    “Did you talk to him?” her mom asked.
    “Not yet. Go on. Ask me why. ‘Why are you so lovable, Clio?’
    The answer will amaze you.”
    “Okay,” her mother said, sighing just a little. “Why?”
    “Because I think I just got a job at Galaxy. That means thirty percent discount. I did the math. Between us, we spend about three hundred dollars a month there. With the discount, that’s a hundred bucks for nothing. A hundred bucks! Or ninety.
    Whatever. Plus Ollie says that sometimes we get opened containers that they have to accept as returns.”
    “Who’s Ollie?” her mother said, still not looking quite checked in. This news should have brought a lot more enthusiasm.
    “Just some guy who works there,” she said quickly. Of course, this summer was when he would become much more than that, 15

    Clio hoped. But no announcements until it was all official.
    “Did you hear the part about the discount? Because I can repeat it. I can even throw in a few dance moves to really bring it home.”
    “Do you want a cup of coffee?” her mom asked. “I just put the pot on.”
    The coffeepot hissed and dripped in the corner as if to prove its existence and role in the conversation. Clio looked at it, then at her mom, who still wasn’t smiling. Her expression was kind of like the one she’d worn after she’d had laughing gas at the dentist, just before she’d started having a heated, emotional conversation with the sofa.
    “What’s wrong?” Clio asked. “Why aren’t you jumping up and down? Why aren’t you on a date? Why are you making coffee at five in the evening? You didn’t . . . break up, did you?”
    “No, it’s not that. It’s something else.”
    Clio’s brain went searching for what “something else” might mean, and the answer readily presented itself. Her mom and her boyfriend, Rob, had been dating for eight months. Her mom had come home every time, and Rob had never stayed over. It was only a matter of time before she got the “Clio, when a man and a woman love each other very much . . .” or “when one lives in University City and one lives in Society Hill . . . sometimes, there must be sleepovers” talk.
    “Maybe I’ll get some coffee,” Clio said dismally as she got up to take a mug from the counter. “Do we still have that fancy vanilla creamer?”
    “No. You drank it all. Listen, Clio. Sit down a minute.”
    Clio sat on one of the stools at the kitchen island, where they 16

    ate all of their meals. She steadied herself and told herself that in a minute’s time, she would need to smile graciously and accept the inevitable. It was time for breakfast with Rob. There would be a man’s razor in the bathroom again. There could even be a boxer shorts sighting.
    “I got a letter today,” her mom began.
    Clio loosened. This was going in a strange direction, one that didn’t sound like it had anything to do with Rob’s underwear.
    “A few months ago,” her mom went on, “I applied for some funding for school. A real long-shot fellowship through a private benefactor. I never thought I’d get it. But I did.”
    “That’s amazing!” Clio said. “You were scaring me back there!
    How much is it for? Does it give you a salary?”
    “Yes, it does. A good one. And it pays for the rest of my research fees. It even pays off one of my loans.”
    “Okay. You completely beat my thirty percent discount. I give.”
    “The catch is,” her mom said, “I have to do a ten-week special project this summer. The foundation that gave me this money just bought two