Page 87 of I Can't Even

“Excuse me, sorry, my sister,” I said as I pushed my way to the center where I stumbled to a stop. There was Em, sitting in the sand in the same clothes she’d had on the night before. In one hand she held a lethal-looking knife while cradling an enormous sea turtle on her lap with the other.

“Em, what...?” Words escaped me.

“Jules,” Em cried in sheer joy. “Can you believe it? I found this poor guy all wadded up in a fishing line. I saved him.”

A man sat with Em cutting away the last of what looked like a net that had been wrapped around the little guy’s neck.

“Oh, Em.” I was torn between wanting to hug my turtle-saving sister and wanting to strangle her for scaring me to death. “This is why you were out all night?”

“Yup,” she said. “We were having a bonfire on the beach and then when it was breaking up for the night, I saw this turtle in the water. It kept flailing and I just knew it needed my help. Pretty cool, right?”

“Yeah.” I simply did not have it in me to scold her when, I swear, the big brown-shelled turtle in her lap peered at her from beneath heavy eyelids with something in his round face that looked like worship.

“Okay, this dude is ready,” the man sitting beside Em said. He was a neo-hippie, skinny, with a head of long dreadlocks, a fair amount of chin stumble, and wearing a Grateful Dead T-shirt. “Back to the sea, shell man.”

“Swim safely, buddy,” Em said. She leaned forward and kissed the turtle on the head before pushing him off her lap into an incoming wave. The turtle struggled and Em and her new friend each took a side of his shell and helped him to get deeper into the surf. The people around were all filming the rescue and Em with her long blue and gold hair, her tank top and broomstick skirt now plastered to her legs resembled an actual mermaid as waves broke around her and she pushed her turtle pal out to sea. Finally, the big guy achieved lift off and rode the next wave out like a pro and then with a flap of a flipper, he was gone.

Em and her friend waved him off while the crowd cheered, taking pictures and video until the turtle disappeared.

“That was righteous,” neo-hippie guy said.

“Totally,” Em said. She turned toward him and they exchanged a high five and a half hug.

“How about an acai bowl and protein shake?” the guy asked. “My treat.”

“She’d love to,” I said. “But we have a thing.”

“We do?” Em asked. She yawned. “I don’t think I can do a thing. It took us three hours to cut that turtle loose. I am exhausted.”

“Paisley is at our house,” I said. “Looking for you. Because you didn’t come home last night, she thinks we’ve broken the terms of the will and she’s called Mr. Loren to come and verify the situation.”

“What?” Em asked. “But that’s mental.”

“Yes, and now we have to go,” I said. “Liam will give us a ride.”

“Oh, hi, Liam,” she said.

“Hi,” he responded. “Nice rescue.”

“Thanks,” she said.

I took Em’s arm and dragged her through the crowd. Lots of people were patting her on the back, and she absently smiled at them as we headed toward the path to the truck above.

“This should be a great piece for your social media followers,” I said. “But you might want to post it later so that Paisley doesn’t use it to prove you weren’t home.”

“Doubtful,” she said. “I dropped my phone somewhere on the beach while we were trying to haul the turtle in.”

“Does this mean your celebrity days are over?” I asked.

She shrugged.

“Not to rush you girls,” Liam said. “But we’ve been gone exactly twenty minutes. We’d better hustle if you’re going to convince Paisley that Em was in the shower all this time.”

I texted Soph that I’d spotted a beehive on my side of the house and that she should keep everyone away. I hoped she understood the code. The thumbs-up emoji in return assured me that she did.

In minutes, we were back at Liam’s, and he was sneaking across our yard with the ladder. He gestured for us to hurry, and we ran behind him. Em disappeared through the bathroom window—all she had to do was slip into the house without Paisley seeing her.

“No one takes showers that are this long,” a voice said from the glass doors that led to the yard.

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