Free Sea Change by Aimee Friedman

meet—and sometimes touch—a few of Selkie’s most interesting inhabitants.”
    I gripped the brochure in my hands, barely noticing the illuminated, sand-bottomed tanks full of crabs, jellyfish, and the famous baby alligators. Why, why did Leo speaking the word touch make my whole face flame? I was grateful for the darkness of the room, but I peeked at CeeCee to make sure she hadn’t noticed my blush. Thankfully, she was checking her BlackBerry.
    “Feel free to roam around on your own,” Leo announced. “The placards next to each tank will tell you a lot about each little buddy inside, but if you have any questions, just holler. And for those of you who want to befriend a baby alligator, follow me.”
    There was promptly a stampede toward the baby alligators, while a handful of kids admired the tank of spider crabs.
    “I’m going to step outside for a minute,” CeeCee murmured with a grimace and a toss of her hair. “Call me if this gets fun, okay?” she requested. And before I could tell her that I hadn’t brought my cell phone, she blew me a kiss and trotted out of the room.
    Inexplicably, my heartbeat sped up. Tucking the brochure into the back pocket of my jeans, I found myself wandering toward the alligator tank, and Leo. When I got there, I stood a bit away from the crowd that oohed and aahed.
    Leo’s right arm was outstretched and on his hand sat a small alligator, its tail thumping against Leo’s wrist and its ancient, reptilian eyes blinking steadily. The boy from the ferry daringly stroked the alligator’s scaly body.
    “You’re doing great,” Leo encouraged, nodding at the boy. “I think he really likes you. Maurice—that’s his name—Maurice can be a little wary of strangers.”
    I can relate, I thought with a small smile. I was impressed by Leo’s ease around kids. If I were in his position, I would have been dolefully reciting facts about the anatomy of cold-blooded animals.
    “Now,” Leo said, glancing around at the circle of saucer eyes, “can anyone tell me the only two places in the world where alligators are natives?”
    “North America and China.” The answer shot out of me automatically, and then I bit my lower lip. Why did StudiousMiranda have to show up now ? “Um, I DVR basically every show on the Discovery Channel,” I added awkwardly, avoiding the stares of parents and children.
    Leo’s eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled. His dimples emerged.
    “Thank you, Miranda,” he said. “That’s right.”
    He remembered me.
    Why did that fact make my stomach somersault? Twice?
    I decided that now would be a good time to go check out the snapping turtles, but something kept me rooted to the spot. And as the kids pushed past me, heading toward the other displays with their parents in tow, I realized that only Leo and I were left standing by the alligators.
    Leo’s gaze met mine briefly. He glanced at the neuron symbol—my school’s logo—that was printed on my T-shirt. Then he looked down at the alligator in his hand.
    “Hi, again,” I ventured, my voice uneven. When Leo didn’t answer right away, my breath stopped. Why did this boy have such a strange effect on me?
    “What’s that, Maurice?” Leo finally spoke, addressing the alligator. “You think she’s the smartest girl we’ve had in the center so far?”
    My heart fluttered, but I felt a spark of irritation. People who blurred the lines between animals and humans irked me.
    “Do you always pretend that alligators can communicate with you?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest.
    Leo glanced back up at me with a lazy half smile. “I’m not pretending.”
    “Oh, really?” I shot back. “What other things does Maurice over here tell you?”
    Leo raised one eyebrow mischievously. “Can you keep a secret?” he asked. When I nodded, he took a step closer to me. Despite myself, I drew a deep breath. Leo smelled fresh and sharp, like rainwater and sand. Incongruously, I recalled the scent of Greg’s