Page 69 of The Statistically Unlikely Reunion

Lucas nods while Vera watches with a small smile on her lips. Fish brush past our legs as if demanding attention.

“The elusive sea turtle is resting near a crevice, if you’d like to swim over.”

I wonder if Lucas noticed me trying to corner it down there earlier, or if he was independently curious about it and sharing. “We’re supposed to leave them be if they’re sleeping.”

“We can be careful, right, Red?”

I can tell that Vera has questions about the nickname, but she holds her tongue even as her eyes sparkle with mirth. The three of us tread slowly to where the sea turtle is.

“It’s larger than I thought it was.”

“You never got close enough to notice its size.” Lucas’s voice is gently admonishing. He taught Leno and Levi how to swim, started teaching my sisters in the apartment pool, and always encouraged me to at least try to relearn.

Vera gives me an arch look that communicates, I told you so.

And I try to communicate back, Noticing isn’t pining.

Though it’s unclear how effective I am.

“This one is likely male—they have the longer claws in front.” He doesn’t bother looking in my direction as he explains. “Looked it up before coming over, figured you’d want to know.”

Because Vera has also, it seems, been reading about marine life, the two take turns telling me about the migratory patterns of green sea turtles, that they’re quite promiscuous, apparently, as females can store sperm from different males for multiple clutches.

By the time the instructors gather us back on board, I’m almost sorry to see our time end. Vera and I chat easily on the ride back, even when Lucas is eventually drawn back into the larger group.

I’m tired—potentially a little sunburnt and overtired, never a good combination for my body—but at least there’s one person besides Brody and Lucas I feel comfortable talking to here, which I take as a win.

20

THE GAL YOU’D WANT IN AN EMERGENCY

BEFORE

In the two days before we leave for worlds, Brody is so moody it’s distracting. Instead of his normal jokes, he snaps at Lucas and me, irritated by every little thing. (“Why are the birds so fucking loud today?” to “This pizza does not have extra cheese,” and “Why the fuck can’t I find this fencepost error?”)

“Is someone feeling unexcited about Singapore?” We’re about to start our last practice session before meeting early tomorrow morning so we can Uber together to LAX. Brody is squeezing his eyes and rubbing at his temples while his leg bounces up and down, only the last of which is normal Brody behavior. Even hungover, Brody’s usually in an okay mood. And I can’t remember him ever admitting to feeling unwell.

“I’m fucking peachy. The rest of the Lloydies are headed to Tahoe in the morning, but I get to fly almost eighteen hours so I can do a nearly weeklong job fair and competition in one of the most light-polluted cities in the world. Whee.”

It’s so unusually, uncharacteristically bitter that Lucas and I exchange a look. We thought it was a good thing for worlds to be scheduled at the same time as Caltech’s spring break. It meant there would be no classes to miss, no tests or projects to make up, and also more opportunity to focus on practicing.

Neither Lucas nor I had considered that for Brody, for whom class attendance is optional at best, missing out on vacationing with his dormmates was the true cost.

“I’m sure we can find something fun to do in Singapore⁠—”

Brody holds up a hand to forestall the rest of my words. His voice is gruff, another sign I should have paid attention to.

“Sorry, don’t mind me.” He passes a hand over his forehead. “No idea why I’m pissy. Just ignore me. I know you both have family things to take care of. I’ll shut up and be a good boy and practice. Promise.”

My father, of course, would be disappointed in the signs I missed. But in my defense, there really were so many things to do before I could leave for a week. Lucas and I had both picked up extra shifts to justify the time off. For me, there was the weeklong meal prep and the fact that I’d accidentally scheduled Wren’s annual well-check during a time when I wouldn’t be able to take her, and my mother was particularly bitchy about it all when I asked her to bring my younger sister. (“Don’t I normally handle things with your younger sisters?” she asked, even though the obvious answer was no. Usually, she abdicated all the parenting to me, all the time.) There was the fact that I’d be missing Harper’s best friend’s birthday party and had forgotten to buy a gift, neglected to arrange rides to and from the SkyPark located two cities away.

To top it all off, there was my father’s short, clipped voicemail asking whether I’d be embarrassing him at worlds, and if Aurora had finally begun demonstrating academic aptitude.

We pull up the practice contest, and even though Brody’s a little slower than usual, it goes well enough that I put Brody’s mood out of my mind.

Last time, Brody ordered the Uber. This morning, Brody looks as though he’s just finished a workout, except without any of his normal post-gym glow.

I finish finalizing the Uber, which should arrive right around when Lucas does. He texted a minute ago, telling me he was running out now, that Leno had a stomach bug and he’d stayed to help clean up.