What is that? Shelly leaned closer to get a better look, jamming her feet against the edge of the catwalk. It was narrow with no railing. Technically, she wasn’t supposed to be up there, but she did it all the time, despite her father’s warnings that it was a safety hazard. Shelly squinted. The eyes locked on to hers. They glowed brighter. She started and reeled back. She’d never seen anything like it before. She blinked hard. When she looked again, they were gone.
Maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her. After all, it was getting darker out, making it harder to see. She ran through her mental list of sea life, but none had eyes that glowed. Sure, some, like certain species of jellyfish, had bioluminescence—a chemical reaction that let them produce their own light—but they didn’t have eyes like those. Not glowing yellow eyes. She looked down at the nearly drained iced latte in her hand. Too much coffee, she concluded.
Just then, something latched on to her arm.
Shelly jumped and wheeled around, almost losing her balance on the catwalk.
But it was just Kendall, who had grabbed Shelly to keep her from falling over.
“Whoa there, I thought you were a total goner,” Kendall said, steadying her. “What were you thinking, leaning over like that? We don’t want anything happening to you.”
“Aww, thanks. I—I thought I saw something out there,” Shelly said, struggling to catch her breath. Her heart hammered against her rib cage as she thought about the eyes in the water.
Attina and Alana wobbled over in two-inch wedges that threatened to slip on the catwalk.
“I mean, I don’t blame you for wanting to live a little, Shell Bells, but there are other ways to feel a rush of excitement,” said Kendall, clacking her nails against Shelly’s coffee cup. She then aimed a manicured nail at the ocean, where waves pushed up against the barrier, misting the friend group with icy salt water. “Go ahead, chuck it out there,” Kendall said.
“Wait . . . what?” Shelly said, caught off guard. She must have heard her friend wrong. Her eyes darted from the plastic cup, with its two straws, to the signs posted all over the sundeck.
NO LITTERING. $500 FINE.
Kendall narrowed her eyes. “Go on—throw it out there. I dare you.”
The twins giggled. “Do it! Do it!” they chanted.
But Shelly shook her head. “No, it’s cool. I’ll just recycle it inside.” She knew the moment the word recycle left her mouth that it wasn’t going to go over well with her new friends.
“Wait, you’re going to carry that gross thing around?” Kendall said. “Like, what are you afraid of—getting busted? Can’t you do whatever you want? Don’t you, like, own this place?”
“Her folks totally own it,” Attina confirmed with a perky nod.
“Yeah, it’s your aquarium,” Alana added. “Everyone knows it, Shelly.”
“Nobody owns the ocean,” Shelly said in a soft voice. She clutched the cup tighter in her fist. The flimsy plastic crinkled, poking painfully at her skin. “It belongs to everyone,” she said.
Kendall rolled her eyes while the twins snickered. “Don’t tell me you actually care about those stupid fish? Besides, it serves those disgusting creatures right. Just look at my new tank top.” She stretched the fabric out, exaggerating the dark splatters on her expensive yoga clothes.
Shelly frowned, feeling protective again.
“Ha! I knew it!” Kendall said with a triumphant whoop. “You do care!”
“No, I don’t,” Shelly said, but her protest sounded weak even to her ears.
“Then prove it.” Kendall’s words rang out.
Attina and Alana watched Shelly with mischief in their eyes.
Shelly swallowed hard, tasting bitter coffee at the back of her throat. Her friends’ eyes all looked her way. She held the plastic cup over the ocean. Several feet below, the waves swirled and frothed, beating up against the barrier between the aquarium’s tanks and the untamed sea.
A million thoughts raced through her head. It’s just one little cup, right? What harm could it cause? Doesn’t everyone litter sometimes, even accidentally? Besides, she’d never do it again. Just this once. But still her fingers wouldn’t release the cup. She thought of Queenie, and the leatherback sea turtle, and the dolphin pod, and all the sea creatures in their care, but then she pushed the thoughts away. She glanced at her friends, watching her with twinkling, eager eyes.
“Hurry up, fish lover,” Kendall said, puckering her lips. “Chuck it out there already!”
When Shelly still didn’t budge, Kendall sighed, turned, and headed down the catwalk. The twins wobbled after her. The moment was slipping by Shelly. Her heart raced.
Fit in at all costs. With that reminder, Shelly forced her fingers, one by one, to release the cup. It dropped from her hand, catching on the breeze and sailing to the sea. It landed on a wave, where it floated and bobbed. Shelly looked at her friends, who broke into hearty, genuine smiles.
“Nice job, Shells!” exclaimed Kendall, hugging her. “Knew you had it in you.”
“Uh, thanks,” said Shelly, giggling.
Attina and Alana also hugged Shelly, and the girls all whooped and cheered for her.
She’d done it. She’d achieved true friendship status.
“Maybe we can make this a tradition,” said Kendall. “Visiting the aquarium the day before our first meet.”
Shelly’s stomach lurched, but she felt hopeful: this meant Kendall wouldn’t send in a complaint after all and risk discontinuing class field trips to the aquarium. Shelly nodded at her.
“All right, let’s head back,” said Kendall, leading the twins across the catwalk.
But Shelly couldn’t fight her guilt, and she glanced back out to sea. There, atop a white-capped wave, bobbed the cup before something reached up . . . and pulled it under. It looked like a black tentacle. Shelly blinked. But the cup was gone, along with whatever thing had grabbed it.
“Did you see that?” Shelly asked, but Kendall and the twins were already by the door.
“Let’s jet,” Kendall called back to her, “unless you want to stay out here with the fishes.”
Before Shelly could follow, she heard a strange noise. It sounded like someone was laughing. And not in
