Page 77 of Instant Karma

“Remember, I’m the one who’s jealous that you have siblings. You won’t get any pity from me.”

I put the last of the bottles in the cabinet and shut the door before giving him an appraising look. “You want one? I’ll give you a great deal on Lucy.”

“Is she the little one?”

“No, that’s Ellie. Lucy is thirteen.”

He flinches. “Oy. I don’t think my big brother skills are ready for a teenager.”

“No one ever is. You know. Unless that teenager is me. I’m a model daughter.”

“I so badly want to make fun of you for that statement,” says Quint as we hang up our aprons, “but something tells me it’s probably true.”

We head up the stairs to the staff break room, which is mostly filled with a long narrow table and mismatched chairs. My backpack hangs on a peg on the wall and I take it down and dig out the same folders and papers I’d had with me for yesterday’s meeting, though I was up for two hours last night making changes.

Quint settles into one of the chairs. Someone brought in a box of doughnuts, and he spends a few moments inspecting his options before picking up one coated in cinnamon and sugar. “So once you’re done here, will you turn your business knowledge toward helping your parents? You could have a community campaign—Save Ventures Vinyl!”

I hand Quint some of the papers and sit down across from him. “I don’t know. I mean… I guess I could. I’ve just always sort of seen it as their problem to fix.”

“The center wasn’t your problem, either.”

“Yeah, but…” I trail off.

“Ah. Right. You’re just here for the extra credit.”

“That’s not true.” I pause. “Anymore.”

A smile flashes over his face, but he quickly tucks it behind one of the papers as he begins to read over my notes. I’m still thinking about the record store, wondering whether Icouldmake a difference. Not by working as a minimum-wage employee, but by applying the same sort of tools that I want to use to help the center. Marketing. Publicity. Social media. I know there are record stores that are doing really well, that don’t struggle to pay their bills every month.

Whycouldn’tVentures Vinyl be one of them?

“Prudence?”

My attention snaps back to Quint. “Sorry. Was just distracted.”

One thing at a time, I tell myself. I’ve already dedicated my summer to the Fortuna Beach Sea Animal Rescue Center. My parents’ store has lasted this long; it will survive a few more months.

“This looks familiar,” says Quint. He’s looking at the list of fundraising ideas I compiled a couple of days ago while he polishes off the doughnut.

“Yeah, but we didn’t really get around to discussing any of these options.”

“A gala?” he says, reading off the paper. “What is it with girls and galas?”

“Galas are how you get fancy people to give you a lot of money. You offer wine and appetizers and have an auction and there’s so much peer pressure to look generous that rich people go nuts outbidding one another.”

He licks the sugar from his fingertips. “And how much money would it cost for us to host this fancy gala?”

I consider. “Five, ten thousand dollars?”

He fixes a look on me.

“Okay, maybe not a gala.” I take the duplicate list that I’ve saved for myself and scratch it off. “What about opening the center up to the public? Say, one day a week people can come in and see the animals, and we could have volunteers tell them about environmental issues and how they can get involved. You could charge admission…” I trail off. Quint is shaking his head at me.

“We used to do that,” he says, lacing his hands behind his head and tilting so far back in the chair that it’s only in pure defiance of gravity that he doesn’t go toppling over. “We were open to the public on Saturdays and Sundays. But you need a lot of volunteers to make it work, and our staff got bitter because they didn’t have enough time to do their actual jobs.”

“We’ll get more volunteers.”

“How?”

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