OMG.
Get it together, Liv. It was time to stop this daydream in its ridiculous tracks. People didn’t find proof of Atlantis for the same reason that they didn’t find proof of Santa’s workshop or the tooth fairy. Atlantis didn’t exist.
And that’s when I saw it—the last glittering shard of belief. Regardless of all the pain I’d been through, some stubborn, embarrassing part of me still wanted to believe. It had worked its way into me like a glass splinter, so subtle and transparent that not even I had noticed it. I plucked it out, then cocked my arm back and hurled it into the calm blue depths of the caldera.
Metaphorically, of course. We were still having breakfast.
Chapter Ten
#10. ONE PALOMINO BLACKWING PENCIL
My dad always said that when you’re living lean, you need to make sure you have a few luxuries to keep you rich in spirit. My mom’s luxuries were monthly trips to our neighborhood’s fanciest patisserie and her favorite cashmere scarf. My dad’s luxuries were memberships to the Art Institute of Chicago and his favorite pencils. Palomino pencils, to be exact, specialty pencils with lead so smooth and dark they might as well have been chocolate. They’ve been made since the 1930s, and writers like Steinbeck and E. B. White swore by them. They were even used by the creator of Looney Tunes to draw some of the first sketches of Bugs Bunny.
They weren’t terribly cheap, but he wasn’t stingy with them. I always had one in my backpack and one on our little desk for drawing, and I can’t remember him ever telling me to make mine last or to be careful not to lose them. He told me that there are two categories of people: those who know why you’d want to spend $25 on a box of luxury pencils, and those who can’t have it explained to them. I didn’t have to ask which category I was in, because I already knew I was in his. I was always in his.
THEO AND MY DAD WERE both still staring at me. My coffee had gone cool and I felt a bit seasick, like we were already out on the water, not looking at it from a safe distance. I’m not sure they’d followed me on that entire emotional journey I’d been through, but I needed them to stop staring at me. Now.
“What do you say, Liv?” my dad finally asked. “We could really use some help making this look professional. You have the eye. I’ve seen your artwork.”
Small hiccup in my chest. I had to stop thinking about him perusing my social media. It felt like a clash of two worlds.
“It isn’t the same as working on a film. I really don’t have the experience,” I finally said.
Theo clapped one hand on my shoulder. “You’re seventeen. Of course you don’t. But how do you think people get experience? They fake it. That’s what I’m doing with filming.”
“And you are doing wonderfully,” my dad said. “Liv, I’m not asking you to do anything beyond your capabilities. But I know you have an eye for beauty. You always have.”
An eye for beauty. That was something only my dad would say. And to be honest, he wasn’t wrong. When I looked at things—paintings or pictures or outfits or even entire rooms—it was like I could see what needed to be fixed to bring it into alignment. To make it harmonious. It was why I liked collage so much. I could see what was meant to go together, even if no one else could.
“Not to mention the fact that you know a lot about Atlantis,” Theo added. “Your dad said you used to recite parts of Plato’s dialogues as a party trick. We could film that—”
“No!” I said, rubbing my forehead. Thank goodness Liv had picked up some new party tricks, because quoting philosophers wasn’t going to cut it at my high school.
“Only if you want to. There is no need otherwise,” my dad said quickly.
I sighed, then tried to disguise it, then sighed anyway. “Where will they air it?”
Theo mistook my question for excitement. “Online, and possibly on TV. It’s part of a series about explorers, and your dad is slotted for episode four, right after El Dorado. Although I’ll be honest, I don’t think that El Dorado team has much going for them. A lost kingdom made out of gold? Ridiculous.”
A laugh burst out of me. I couldn’t help it. Why could Theo make me laugh so easily?
My dad was smiling too. “The world is made up of people who try for things and people who sit on the sidelines watching them. Every one of those explorers has my support.”
As far as I knew, he’d never sat on the sidelines of anything. “God bless the seekers,” I said, echoing what Henrik had said on the plane about his archaeologist boyfriend and my dad. I settled into my chair and took a few deep breaths of the sea air in hopes of calming my mind. It sort of worked. “And what if we don’t find anything? What then? Will they still air the show?”
Underlying question: When your theory is wrong and you look like an idiot, is everyone going to see?
My dad shook his head. “I don’t think they’re expecting any actual evidence. They want good, solid storytelling. They want to give viewers a taste of what it would be like to look for the city. Deep down, everyone’s an explorer, aren’t they?”
“Not everyone,” I blurted out, but relief hit me, fast and hard. National Geographic wouldn’t air something that made him look like a complete kook, would they? I mean, he’d definitely come across as eccentric, but there was no way around that. Maybe this wasn’t the worst way for Dax and everyone back home to find out about my dad. And besides, if I was on the team, cinematograph-ing or whatever it was they wanted me to do, maybe I could keep it all from getting too embarrassing.
Suddenly I realized I was nodding, my body agreeing even before the rest of me did. I was finally taking the bait. Sort of. Besides, what else was I going to do while I was here?
“So?” Theo said, raising his perfect eyebrows. If they weren’t so gorgeous, I’d be sick of them.
I exhaled. “Okay.”
“Okay?” My dad’s eyes carefully moved to mine.
I shrugged nonchalantly, disguising my racing heart. “I’ll help. But don’t expect too much.”
“Yes!” my father exclaimed. I could tell he wanted to fly around the table and hug me, but he restrained himself. Yep. Too soon for that.
“That’s great news, Kalamata,” Theo said, clapping me on the back again. “Because here’s the kicker. We have just over a week to complete the filming and then get all the editing done. And that includes the dive.”
Dive? Heart-beating-too-fast. “Wait. We are diving?” I glanced out at the water, and it was the entirely wrong thing to do. Panic gripped me. “But I thought you said you would need government funding to find anything underwater.”
My dad nodded. “We need to get something on camera. Something simple. I’m still determining the best spot with Dr. Bilder, but I’m not expecting much besides interesting footage. I can only afford one day of diving.”
“If that,” Theo said. “My mother will have a conniption if you try to do a serious dive.”
My dad’s smile disappeared so quickly you’d think the gods had ordered it to be so. What was that about?
“Because it’s too expensive?” I asked.