Page 36 of Sharkbait
“Basically, yeah. So we had a lot to catch up on.”
“He’s the one who got you hyped up on shrooms, right?”
“Not on purpose. But yeah, his thermos of mushroom teasent Callie on the sexy spiral that led to my demise.”
“Don’t pin it all on the woman. From what I’ve heard, you were quite the active participant.”
That gives me a horrifying visual I want to instantly bleach from my brain.
His eyes go all lovey-dovey. “Well, ‘the incident’ led to a beautiful relationship with my dream girl, so you won’t ever hear me complaining.”
“Think Otto has any shrooms on hand tonight? I could really use something like that to help me relax. I went full contestant on those women just now.”
“Ugh, I’m sorry. Well, look at it this way. You got it out of your system, right? Now, you can be fully on your game when you meet Corbin. That’s the whole goal tonight, isn’t it? To make a good impression on him and get on track for the Florida internship?”
“Yes. Yes, yes, yes. That is the goal,” I say.
We reach a buffet table with tiny sandwiches and pitchers of lemon-infused water.
Ralph pours a glass and hands it to me.
I proceed to chug.
“Hey, just a thought,” Ralph says softly. “Maybe we should steer clear of general drug and peen conversations tonight. From my experience, this kind of crowd leans toward the conservative side of things.”
“Uh, ya think?”
I spot Corbin Bellows across the room, chatting with another grad student.
I take one last gulp of the lemon water and slam the empty glass into Ralph’s waiting palm, like he’s my coach and I’m a prize fighter getting ready for the big match. I wonder if he could hype me up with one of those vigorous shoulder rubs you always see them doing in the corner of the ring. That might help.
Hearty male laughter crests over the crowd.
I nudge Ralph in the arm and nod toward my benefactor. “And Corbin is as conservative as they come. You know, if you don’t count his five divorces, multiple baby daddy dramas, and the questionable ‘contributions’ to his foundation. But hey, he’smaking the oceans cleaner and safer for the next generation, plus he’s singlehandedly funding my education right now, so we’ll let all that slide for the moment, yeah?”
Ralph smiles at an austere couple nibbling on a prosciutto sandwich next to us and murmurs, “Lower. Your. Volume. Lou.”
“You’re right, you’re right,” I whisper. “Let’s say hello and thank you to Corbin and then get the hell out of here. Sound good?”
“Sounds great, yes.”
We make our way through the room, offering our “excuse me” and “pardon me” as we go.
“How did you know he was asking for me?”
“I recognized him and said hi. Told him I was here with my sister Louise Anderson and how honored she is to be one of his scholarship recipients.” He shrugs. “Figured it may help your nerves to crack the door to conservation open a bit.”
“You’re the best, thank you.” I give his hand a quick squeeze.
We plant ourselves next to where Corbin is still chatting with that student. We do that awkward thing where we make it clear we want to say hi but don’t want to interrupt. My knee starts to bounce.
I try smiling at the beautiful but bored woman standing beside him. She’s his most recent wife. I think her name is Jane. Or is it June? Joan maybe. Shit. I’ll just wait for him to introduce her by name.
I’m struck by how Corbin looks just like he did on TV when I watched him as a kid, only now he has whiter hair and a few more wrinkles on his skin. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t starstruck. This man has been an idol of mine since I was six, and I spent the majority of my days devouring every ocean-centric show on the Discovery Channel. Corbin was always going on epic ocean adventures and making the world a better place: scuba diving to study the Great Barrier Reef in Australia, swimming with sharks in Florida, organizing beach cleanups in New Jersey.
I wanted to be just like him.
Still do.
