I spend the next week with my head down, doing my best not to disturb the little bit of peace that has settled between me and Seeley. We’re good, but not great, and if I spend too long thinking about that, it feels like I can’t breathe. Meanwhile, my dad and I are still tiptoeing around each other, neither of us bringing up that night in my room. Which is why I’m currently chasing Mr. P down—because if the rest of my life is going to be one giant mess, then dammit, this park can’t be one too.
“Mr. Prendergast,” I call out. He’s making his way down to the front gates, probably to grab the cash drawers since we close in like fifteen minutes. Normally this would be the park manager’s job, but Mr. P gave him two weeks off paid because his wife had a baby. Mr. P is super big on family like that. Even if it means more work for him.
And today, it definitely does. Mr. P looks flushed and tired, sweat streaming down his face. He pulls a little rag out of his pocket and greets me with a smile. “What can I do for you, Elouise?”
“Um,” I say, losing my nerve a little. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
He looks a little bit surprised. “Of course. Is everything okay with your father?”
“Oh yeah, no, he’s great. This is about something else.”
“In that case, how about we meet back in my office in about five minutes? I have to get the cash drawers from the girls up front and then get out of this heat.”
“Perfect.” Now I have to just not lose my nerve for the next four minutes and fifty-nine seconds.
I dip into the first ladies’ room I pass, trying to ignore my reflection as I shove my head under the faucet and let the water run over me. I know I don’t have the face of a woman who walks into an office and demands answers—I have the face of a girl trying to be too many things at once.
But maybe that’s okay.
I wet my hands and dry them off on my pants, straightening up my back and squaring my shoulders. I could be her, maybe, that confident girl whose hair probably never escapes her ponytail, or who doesn’t care if it does. The kind of girl who Mr. Prendergast would have to listen to. Maybe I could be Elle, the real Elle, instead of mousy Elouise, or little Lou. I smooth my hair back a little more and paste on a smile, but it slides off my face into a frown. I look too much like my mother when I stand like this, confident and taking up too much space, so I slouch a little, just to spite her.
“I can’t do this.” I shove my hands in my pockets and walk out the door, fully intending to ditch Mr. P and slink away . . . except he’s there at the end of the path, smiling.
“Hello again,” he says. “Shall we?”
“Actually.” I glance back at the mirror once more. I can still sort of see her, that confident girl who maybe looks a little like her mother, waiting in the reflection where I left her. Screw it, what do I have to lose? “Actually, yeah, that’d be great.”
“What’s on your mind, dear?” He’s got his sweat rag out again, dotting it over his face with a casualness I’m not sure I’m on board with.
“So, basically, I was thinking about how you’re closing the park and I feel like I don’t want you to do that.” Oh. Awesome, Elouise. What a super compelling mature argument you just made. I’m sure he’ll definitely take you seriously now. Ten out of ten would recommend this approach. I sigh.
“I see.” He clears his throat. “And is this what you were coming to discuss with me?”
“Sort of?” I scrunch up my shoulders in a way that says I totally get how messed up this conversation is, but also that it’s way too late for me to back out now.
“I know this is a special place for you kids, I do, and I appreciate your input, but—”
“Hey, Mr. P,” Marcus says, cutting off our conversation. He’s changing one of the garbage cans outside the office, something we all take turns doing at the end of our shifts. “Thanks again for letting me use your car. I seriously owe you one.”
“You’re welcome.” Mr. P smiles, pulling open the door. “Thanks for all your hard work today.”
I follow him inside and drop into the seat across from him. “You let Marcus borrow your car?”
“His wouldn’t start, and he had to get his brother from summer school,” Mr. P says, like it’s no big deal. Like loaning out cars to kids they employ is something bosses do every day.
“See, that’s the thing,” I say, leaning my elbows on his desk. “You’re always doing stuff to help us out, and I was thinking maybe we could return the favor.” I pull out my notebook. “Look, I’ve already been working on ideas. If it’s about money, we could do a GoFundMe or—”
“Elouise.” He smiles at me in that strained way adults do when they really, really want me to stop talking. “It means a lot that you would come to me with this, but I’m afraid it is what it is. Magic Castle Playland will be closing after this season.”
“You can’t really mean that,” I say. “I mean, that can’t be it.”
He sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. “I appreciate how important this place is to you, Elouise, I truly do. But you have to understand that things change; circumstances, people, everything changes. Instead of fighting against the tide, what you really need to do is learn to swim in it.”
“What if I don’t want to?” And I wish that didn’t sound as petulant as it definitely just did.
“Welcome to adulthood.” He smiles, but it’s not a mean smile, more like a pity smile, and I think I hate that even worse.