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I’m not sure what he means by that.

“Mostly just fundraising ideas,” I continue, ignoring him. “And some community outreach. Things that I think will help bring more attention to the center, raise awareness for the animals… hopefully even increase revenue. It sounded like money has been tight.”

Rosa lets out a weary groan. “Understatement.” She opens her palms, waving her hands over the stacks of teetering piles on the desk. “We’ve tried fundraising over the years. It’s hit or miss.” She looks despondent. Like this is merely a fact of the nonprofit world. And maybe it is. But I’m convinced it doesn’t have to be. At least, not for this center. “Thankfully we’ve had much more consistent success with grants.”

“Right,” I say. “I heard that, too. But, well, you know Quint and I did this project for biology this year.” For some reason, I find myself avoiding Quint’s gaze as I say this. I can feel him watching me, frowning, and it’s making me nervous. In part because I have no idea what he has to be upset about. “And I think I can use my research to help the center, which in turn will help with my extra-credit assignment. I’m thinking of this as a symbiotic relationship. Like sharks and those little suckerfish that help them clean off the parasites.”

I grin, proud of myself for remembering that lesson from class, and I can’t help casting a look at Quint. He looks radically unimpressed. His voice is flat when he says, “In this scenario, are you the shark or the suckerfish or the parasite?”

His words hit hard and I gape at him, even as Rosa chastises, “Quint!”

But I don’t need her to defend me. I take a step toward him. “I’m sorry, but what is your problem? I did everything you asked yesterday, I showed up today,on time,even though you clearly didn’t expect me to. So what is this about?”

His eyes are blazing and he opens his mouth to speak, but then hesitates. He glances at his mom and his expression darkens. Crossing his arms over his chest, he gives his head a shake. “Nothing. I’m just dying to hear these ideas of yours.”

“Quint,” Rosa says again. “You’re being rude. And heaven knows any sort of financial boost would go a long way around here.”

“Thank you,” I say. I hold Quint’s eye a second longer before turning to Rosa. I tighten my grip on the folder and launch into the speech I practiced a dozen times in front of my mirror last night. “Consider me your new business consultant. First, I want to start with a community event, something we canuse to really get the locals involved. I’ve lived in Fortuna Beach my whole life, and I just learned about this place, so it’s clear that we’re lacking visibility in the community, and that needs to be remedied. Plus, people want to be a part of something. They like to think they can make a difference through their actions. It’s not just about clicking the donate button on Kickstarter, right? But once they see what great work is happening here, I know more people will want to contribute financially, too.”

Rosa stops me with a laugh. “Well, Quint didn’t exaggerate. You are certainly dedicated. Prudence, I do appreciate your optimism.” She scratches the back of her neck. “But I have to stop you there, because, to be honest, I feel like we’ve triedeverything,and nothing seems to stick. We have fundraisers every year, but the money seems to evaporate as fast as it comes in. We’ve tried hosting events, and we had that Facebook page at one time, although it’s probably been a while since it got updated.” She shakes herself, as if realizing how cynical she sounds. “The thing is, no one here has time for any of that. Including me. Especially me.” She sighs and stands. “I don’t want to discourage you. Maybe we can talk more in the next couple of days? But right now, I need to check on Luna and some of our other patients. And I know you both have a lot of work to get through today, too. I’m sorry, Prudence. I hate to leave you hanging, but…” Despite her words, the look she gives me is the definition ofdiscouraged.“We’ll talk more about this later, all right?”

I don’t think she means it. I don’t think she’s trying to dissuade me from coming up with ideas, but she looks exhausted as she walks away, and her day has only begun. Maybe she’s just so overwhelmed with the day-to-day trials of keeping this place going, she simply can’t process the idea of adding anything else to the mix.

Which means, if this is going to work, my plans can’t revolve around Rosa, at least not beyond getting her approval.

I’m far from discouraged. In fact, this will work out even better. I didn’t really want her looking over my shoulder anyway as I’m doing my best to breathe new life into this place.

As Rosa heads into the corridor—what they call the critical care wing—I feel a hand on my shoulder. I startle and turn to see Shauna smiling at me, the wrinkles pronounced around her eyes.

“She’s just under a lot of stress. It’s been a tough season,” she says. “For one, I think some new fundraising campaigns could help a lot. I hope you give it a try.”

I nod. “Thanks.”

Shauna departs, too, then, heading up the stairs to the second floor.

I thump the edge of the folder in my palm and turn to Quint. His eyes are dark, his lips pressed tight.

“What?” I snap. “Why are you looking at me like that?” My cheeks have already reddened and we’re not even arguing,yet,but I can feel his animosity and it’s making me defensive, though I have no idea what we’re fighting about.

“No reason,” he says, in the most blatant lie of all time. “I have work to do.” He turns and shoves open the screen door.

I follow him, still clutching my folder. Quint snatches a pool brush that was leaning against the wall and starts in on one of the kiddie pools. It had sea lions in it yesterday, but it’s since been emptied out. I wonder how often the pools have to be cleaned. How much time is spent shuffling animals around. I mean, can that possibly be necessary? Their natural habitat is gross, sludgy seawater, after all.

“What is your problem?” I say. A couple of volunteers are feeding fish to the animals in the next pool. They turn to me and Quint, startled, but we both ignore them. “And give me a real answer. I thought you’d be excited about this!”

“Oh yeah, it’s thrilling.” Quint squirts some dish soap directly into the empty pool. “Good thinking, partner. So glad we have you on the team.” He takes the brush and starts scrubbing furiously.

I throw my free hand into the air. “You haven’t even heard my ideas yet! Don’t youwantthis place to make more money? To be successful?”

He stops scrubbing, both hands gripping the brush handle like he’s resisting flinging it at me. “You’ve been here for one day, Prudence. One. Day. Do you even know how to tell the difference between harbor seals and sea lions yet?”

I blink at him, bewildered, then glance to the nearest pool. At the plump, shiny-bodied creatures diving in and out of the water. “Seals,” I say, waving the folder at them.

“Wrong.”

Shoot.

“Sea lions are the ones with flaps over their ears, among other things.”