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TWENTY-THREE

Rather than being overcome with sudden inspiration like I am, Quint looks skeptical. “You want people to come pick up garbage?”

“Yes! Remember? Peoplewantto be a part of the solution, but first you have to show them an easy and convenient way to do it.”

“How very generous of them,” he deadpans.

“I’m serious.” I smack Quint on the shoulder and drop into the chair beside him. Reaching across the table, I grab my notebook and pull it toward me. At the top of a blank page, I write “Beach Cleanup.” “Most people have good intentions, they just lack initiative. If you make it seem fun and easy, and make sure there’s something in it for them, you can get people to do pretty much anything.”

Quint ticks off his fingers. “One: That’s a really pessimistic view of humanity. Two: We have nothing to offer people because, again, no money. And three: How, exactly, is a beach cleanup supposed to generate money for the center? Because… see number two.”

I ignore him. My mind is sprinting, racing a hundred miles per hour. I’m already jotting notes as ideas and possibilities rush through me. Quint leans forward, reading over my shoulder.

“We don’t need to offer them something ofmonetaryvalue,” I say, once my initial burst of inspiration has waned. “If we make it seem like a big deal, like something everyone will be doing, then people will come for the peer pressurealone. After all, you don’t want to be the only person in the communitynotshowing up to help. A lot can be said for public shaming.”

“Again: pessimistic view of humanity.”

“But there are other ways to reward people, too. Maybe we can get sponsors from the local shops. Like… everyone who fills a trash bag will get a free ice cream cone from the Salty Cow, stuff like that.”

Quint grunts, and though he doesn’t say it out loud, I can tell he thinks this actually has potential.

“And as far as raising money for the center, we’ll have a donation jar set out for people who want to donate, but that’s not the primary goal here. This is community outreach. After all, I’ve lived here my whole life, but when you brought up the center, I thought it was something you were making up. So right now, we need to focus on getting the word out. Who we are, what we do… Maybe encourage people to come volunteer once in a while? We’ll have a table with a sign-up sheet where people can get on the mailing list.”

“We don’t have a mailing list.”

“Oh, but we will.” I wink at him. He looks momentarily startled, but I’ve already returned my attention to the page. “But none of that makes any difference if we can’t get people to show up. We’re going to have to offer more than free ice cream if we want them to give up a few precious hours of their weekend.”

“Agreed.”

My excitement is boiling over so quickly I have to bite my lip. Quint gives me a curious look and a part of me wants to keep him in suspense, but the idea is so good, so brilliant.

I scoot my chair back so I can face him full-on. Sensing that I’m building up to something big, he turns his body toward me, too.

“How often are we releasing animals back into the ocean right now?”

He thinks about it and shrugs. “We had a release almost two weeks ago. We’ll probably be ready to let Pepper and Tyrion go in another few days…” He trails off. His eyes widen. “Oh my god, Prudence. That’s genius.”

I’m beaming. “We tell people that they’ll be able to come and witness the release of some of these adorable animals back to the ocean. We’ll make it into a huge celebration. People will be lining up to see that.”

“You’re right,” says Quint. “I’ve probably been to hundreds of releases since I was a kid, but they never get old.”

I’m surprised that it gives me a happy shiver to think of being there when some of the animals from downstairs get to go back to the water.

Quint snaps his fingers. “The festival.”

“What?”

“The Freedom Festival for Fourth of July. It’s a week from Saturday, and the beach is always a wreck afterward, so we should do this on Sunday. There’ll be tons of garbage to clean up, and we can sell it as, like, we have these animals that are ready to go back to the ocean, but we can’t possibly set them free with all this garbage everywhere. So we all work together to clean up the beach, and when we’re done, we celebrate with the big release.”

I’m grinning at him. “It’s perfect. We can advertise it at the festival. We could even make a play on the name. Something like, ‘This Independence Day, don’t just celebrate your freedom… celebrate theirs,’ with a picture of the animals we’ll be releasing. We can have flyers and posters and things made up for the festival.”

“I love it.” Quint holds up a hand for a high five, but when I slap my palm against his, he closes his fingers around mine and gives them a squeeze. My heart skips. “Good brainstorming session.”

I laugh. “Go team.”

His eyes crinkle at the corners, and I know he’s thinking about all our failed lab assignments. I know, because I’m thinking about them, too, and wondering if it’s possible I just didn’t give us—theteamus—a chance.

Quint releases my hand. “I can design the flyers and posters.”