Cry of the Sea by D. G. Driver

However, my momentum was way up
and my patience way thin, so I didn’t even wait for the Council to
say anything before I started speaking my piece. Once my mouth
opened, I kind of couldn’t stop it.
    “Hi guys,” I said. “Sorry I’m late, I was at
the beach all morning rescuing sea animals hurt by an oil spill. It
was slightly more important to me than American History and
Chemistry, because, you know, these are living, breathing creatures
that are dying. A lot of them were dead already, and it took time
to walk through all of that and search for the still-living ones.
It had to be done because you never know what you’re going to find.
There could be something really important out there that needs
help, something that needs to be discovered and saved. The Founding
Fathers are dead and can’t help, really. Memorizing what elements
make superglue stick is also not going to help.”
    Everyone looked very puzzled, including
Haley. I didn’t care. I went on.
    “Another thing more important to me than
colonists and chemicals is getting to live past forty, which won’t
happen if the environment collapses on all of us because we aren’t
taking care of it. Our oil spills kill animals; our trash is
killing ourselves. Now, that may not matter to all of you, but it
does me, and Haley, and several other people in this school who
would like to be in our Recycling Club.
    “What is this club about, you ask?” I went on
before anyone actually could ask. “We just want to get some trash
cans specifically marked for recycling. We want to gather the
recyclables once a week and take them to a recycling center. We
will keep an eye out for containers littering our campus that could
be recycled, and we will put out information to let the students
know how to participate in our club and mission.
    “What do I need from you?” I went on again,
seeing them itchy to interrupt. “Nothing. I mean, it would be nice
if you occasionally put your Aquafina bottles or Red Bull cans in
the recyclable bin. That would be cool of you. Otherwise, all we
really need is for you to give us the big Okay . Because,
really, our club is nothing that interferes with your other plans
around this place and is only going to help you and the school in
the long run.”
    I stopped.
    Haley stared at me for a moment in shock. I’m
not sure her expression had flipped over to totally upset or angry,
although it wasn’t exactly “Way to go, June” either. I hadn’t done
the presentation as we had planned. She had handouts and a Power
Point document with bullet points. She was supposed to be the one
talking—not me. I had skipped all that. After another beat, I
turned my attention to the four seniors in front of us to see what
would happen next.
    The four of them sat in chairs behind one
long table. Marlee Gephalt, our school treasurer, wasn’t looking at
us. She was busy picking all the raisins out of her salad. Ted
Cowley, the group secretary, didn’t have a pen out to record any of
this. Don’t think I saw paper either. He did have a phone in his
hand though and seemed to be endlessly texting somebody. Gary
Donnelly, the vice president, had his feet up on the desk in front
of him and was leaning so far back in his chair he had to be seeing
only his size eleven Jordans and not our faces.
    Then there was Regina Williams, class
president and royal B. Her Blonde Highness leaned way forward and
rested her chin in her hands like a little schoolgirl, pretending
to be amazed and awed by us. She stayed this way for almost a full
minute after I had finished speaking as though she hadn’t noticed I
stopped.
    Finally she asked, “Is that it?”
    Haley cleared her throat and answered
hesitantly. “No.” Regina’s eyes cut over to my friend like she was
an irritating bug. “I mean that we have some charts and... stuff.”
Her voice dwindled off as she noticed Regina was no longer looking
at her and was focused on me again.
    Regina raised her hand like she