The Best Week of My Life by Williams Suzanne D

Author:Williams, Suzanne D. [Williams, Suzanne D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-04-24T23:00:00+00:00

***

I mashed my hand to the aquarium glass, this despite signs everywhere saying not to do so, and followed the back and forth swimming of the fish. “Do you think fish fall in love?” I asked.

This question made complete sense to me. Fish had babies so fish might fall in love. Right?

“Probably depends on the fish,” Carter replied in my ear.

“Why? Does that mean some fish don’t? But I guess you could be right because some fish care for their young and some just swim away.”

I turned around and found Carter staring at me, not the fish.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He smiled. “Thinking about what your dad said.”

“Daddy? Which part?” Daddy had been yapping all morning. Having spent the previous day reading every brochure he could get his hands on, he’d served as our tour guide across town, something he liked to do.

“The story about him and your mom.”

I smiled. “Oh, that. I never knew about her falling. I must get it from her.”

“Something to be proud of,” he said.

“Really?”

He took my hand and pulled me away from the tank.

“I wouldn’t think tripping is a genetic behavior,” I said. “Then again, I saw this thing on twins once – where they’d grown up separate from each other and yet had the same likes and dislikes, the same strange habits.”

“He’s right though. I found it ‘appealing’,” Carter said.

My cheeks heated, and so I turned around and dragged him into the next room. A hands-on tank sat in the center, and the boisterous voices of young children echoed against the glass and metal walls. A boy, around age five, dangled his entire torso over the clear edge.

“Maybe he’ll fall in and a stingray will get him.” I said with a shiver. I had no interest in coming within ten feet of a stingray. But Carter was thinking otherwise because he tapped me forward.

“You’re going to pet one,” he said.

I dug my feet into the tile. “No, I’m not. I’ve already done that this week.”

He was stronger than me, however, and pushed me closer. “That wasn’t petting.”

“That was painful, and there’s no sand here to bury me in if I get stung.”

He pushed again. “You’re not going to get stung.”

At this point, I was at the side of the tank. Carter took hold of my hand and raised it over the side.

“Carter Pruitt, don’t do this to me,” I fumed, wriggling away.

“C’mon, Daph. They’re harmless. See?” He demonstrated by placing his own hand in the water. A stingray swam under, rubbing against his fingertips.

“But that’s you, and I’m me. And things happen to me when I try stuff.”

He made a face. “You can’t let that stop you.”

“Oh! Perfect!” My mom’s voice chirped from behind us. “You two pose right there. Howard, quick, take a picture, and Daphne, put your hand in the tank.”

“How about I …” I began, but Carter, taking hold, stuck my hand in there anyway. I cringed.

“Now, look at your father and smile,” Mom said.

I tried to paste a

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