Spring Break Secret by Holly Rayner
Tom
Tom stood watch over the nest, taking his duties very seriously. It didn’t seem like there were any stray dogs or joggers making their way through the dunes, but he still kept a lookout, scanning the beach just in case. He could hear his friends, still playing volleyball, but he didn’t really worry about missing out on anything. They would be in La Vega for an entire week, after all, and there would be plenty of time for goofing around on the beach. Right now, these little sea turtle eggs seemed much more important.
Confident that no one was approaching the area, Tom crouched down to look at the eggs more closely. They were so perfectly round, and he marveled at the way nature had created something so smooth. He wished he could see through their white shells, and wondered what tiny baby sea turtles looked like before they hatched.
Soon, he saw Louisa heading back toward him, carrying a plastic bucket with stakes and orange tape hanging out of it. He jogged over, taking the bucket from her despite her protestations.
“I carry heavy stuff all the time at the center,” Louisa insisted, walking alongside Tom as they made their way to the nest.
“I was going to ask you about that,” Tom said, ignoring her attempts to grab the bucket back by swinging it around. “The sea turtle center—you work there?”
“No, not exactly. I’ve been a volunteer there ever since I was a little kid, but now I live in California for school.”
“What’s it like?”
“What, California?”
Tom laughed. “No, volunteering at the center. I’ve never been a volunteer anywhere like that.”
What Tom didn’t say was that he’d never been a volunteer anywhere at all. His dad was focused on making sure he learned business skills and got into a good college program, so all his free time was spent on classes and internships or other projects that might build his resume. The idea of Louisa spending her childhood helping out turtles made him feel curious, and perhaps a bit envious.
“It’s a lot of work,” Louisa said, setting the bucket down as they reached their destination. “But it’s really fun, too. We help rescue injured turtles that have been hit by boats, and we go out early some mornings to take water quality samples.”
“That’s so cool!” Tom was brimming with questions but tried to stay focused on the reason they were there. “So,” he gestured toward the bucket, “what do we do now?”
Louisa shrugged. “Well, you’ve done your job protecting the nest while I was gone. You can go back to your friends now if you want.”
Tom realized that he wasn’t all that anxious to leave Louisa’s company. “No, I’ll stay and help. We have to set these up, right?”
Louisa looked surprised at Tom’s willingness to stick around, but then she gave him a warm smile. “Yep. We want a ten-foot radius from the nest—that gives them enough space that no one will step on them, but it lets people get close enough to see the eggs if they want to.”
“That’s important?” Tom pulled out one of the wooden stakes and twirled it lightly in one hand.
“Making sure people can see? Of course. People only care about things if they’re informed about them. We want everyone to take the health of our ecosystems seriously, and people are more likely to support the work we do at the conservation center if they’ve had a personal experience with local marine life.”
“That makes sense.” In fact, Tom had learned something similar in one of his classes about advertising. They had watched documentaries and read research papers that showed the exact same thing: that people need to see something, and connect themselves to it, if they were going to have any sort of investment.
Tom was impressed at how well thought out everything was. Louisa, and the people she worked with, really seemed to know what they were doing.
“So,” Tom said, eyeballing a distance he thought was about ten feet, “right here?”
“Looks good to me.”
With Louisa’s approval, Tom started pushing the wooden stake down into the sand. Louisa came over with a roll of orange tape and started to tie it around the top. Tom went to help, brushing their fingers together and sending an electric charge through his heart.
This girl was something special.
“It’s a good thing you were here today,” Tom said as they continued pounding stakes into the sand and wrapping the tape around them. “I wouldn’t have known what to do.”
“You did the right thing,” Louisa reassured him. “We always want people to reach out to the conservation center if they find a nest, or an injured turtle, or just have any questions.”
“Do you just hang out at the beach every day in case someone needs help with a turtle?”
Louisa laughed again. “No, I was trying to get volunteers for a beach cleanup we’re hosting tomorrow. I’m not usually around here anymore.”
“I guess I got lucky,” Tom said.
Louisa’s cheeks went a little pink under all her freckles, and Tom hoped it wasn’t just the beach sun.
It took a bit longer to finish, and Tom asked Louisa all the questions that had occurred to him as he watched the nest. She was knowledgeable and eager to share, and Tom found himself more and more interested, questions continuing to pop into his head even as she answered each one.
“All right, that’s that.” Louisa clapped some sand off her hands, then put them on her hips, surveying their work. Orange tape was stretched between seven wooden stakes, making a strange, wobbly shape surrounding the turtle nest.
“Is it supposed to be a circle?” Tom tilted his head to the side, trying to figure out what shape they had actually managed to make.
“Eh, the turtles don’t care. As long as it keeps people from trampling on the nest, it’s fine.”
Disappointment washed through Tom as he realized that their project together was well and truly finished. Then he remembered the beach cleanup Louisa had mentioned.
“That thing you’re trying to get volunteers for—you said it’s tomorrow?”
“That’s right. It’s a beach cleanup over on the east edge of town. There’s a beach that got a bit trashed after a music festival last year, and it’s never been fully restored. We’re hoping that if we remove all the garbage, it’ll create a healthier shoreline for native birds to forage along.”
“Can anyone come?” Tom asked. “I’m not from here. I’m just in town for spring break.”
“Absolutely!” Louisa’s green eyes lit up. “In fact, that’s why we do our big annual beach cleanup this week—we try to get volunteers from people in town for spring break. The last few years, though, it’s been harder and harder to get enough people involved.”
“Well,” Tom said, “I’ll be there.”
“Really?” Louisa seemed thrilled, and Tom was more than sure that this was the right decision. “That’s so awesome!”
After getting all the details from Louisa and promising her once again that he’d see her bright and early to help out, Tom made his way back to his friends. They were packing up their stuff, ready to head back to their rental beach house for an early dinner and a nap before another night of partying.
“Took you long enough.” Jason, who looked rather sunburned, slapped Tom on the back.
“Yeah, man, did the turtles need you to lay more eggs for them or something?” Nick tossed Tom a bag of sandy towels.
“Actually,” Tom said, bending over to grab his own towel and shake it out, “I learned a lot of cool stuff about sea turtles. Did you know they only come out onto land to lay their eggs? When the babies hatch, they go straight for the water. They don’t spend any time on land.”
“Cool,” Nick said, but he didn’t sound remotely interested.
In the car, Tom pulled the crumpled flyer out of his pocket before he sat down, not wanting it to get even more destroyed. Louisa had written the directions to the beach cleanup on it, plus her own cell phone number in case he couldn’t find it.
“What’s that? Did turtle girl give you her number?” Nick reached for the flyer, but Tom didn’t hand it over.
“She did,” Tom answered with a smirk. “I’m meeting her tomorrow to help with a beach cleanup. They need more people, actually, if any of you guys want to come.”
Nick laughed. “Are you serious, man? We’re only here for five days. I’m not spending one of them picking up trash.”
“Turtle girl must be really cute,” Kevin said.
“Her name is Louisa, and she is. Cute, I mean. And also smart, and caring, and passionate.”
“Uh-oh,” Nick teased. “Tom’s got it bad.”
“Leave it to Palmer to fall in love with a local over spring break. You plan on flying back here every weekend from Harvard, or what?”
“She actually goes to college in California,” Tom said, but the fact that he already knew so much about Louisa did very little to convince his friends that he wasn’t crushing hard on her.
“Whatever, man. We’ll meet so many cute chicks tonight that you’ll forget all about turtle girl.”
Tom sincerely doubted that.