Authors: Katherine Applegate
CLAIRE SPILLED OUT HER FEAR
to Zoey and Lucas. She had told Jake the truth early that morning. Jake had said very little, just turned his back on her, and when she had tried to put her arms around him, he had told her to leave.
Later that afternoon she had tried to call him, but there had been no answer.
She had gone over to his house. His yellow pickup was gone, and when Claire peered through the sliding glass door into his room, she had seen a pile of empty beer cans shoved half under his bed.
She had looked for him everywhere, called everywhere, but no one had seen him. She was worried. He was probably drunk, and in his truck, somewhere on the island.
“I don't know where to look that I haven't looked,” she said, sitting stiffly on the chair in Zoey's room. “There's only one place . . . And I don't want to go there alone.”
Lucas caught Zoey's eye. “We'll go with you,” Zoey said.
The three of them piled into the Passmores' island car, a wreck even by island standards. Zoey drove along South Street to Coast Road. There was no question in anyone's mind where they should look.
At the end of Coast Road where the asphalt gave way to gravel and sand, where a huge tree still bore the scar of a deadly impact, they spotted the pickup truck parked in the ditch.
Jake was slumped over the wheel, unmoving.
Claire leapt from the car and ran, followed closely by Zoey and Lucas. She threw open the door, her heart pounding, her mind swimming in fear.
She saw Jake's breathing and, putting her hand to his cheek, felt the warmth. She nearly collapsed with relief.
“He's all right,” she said. “Just passed out.”
“Thank God,” Zoey whispered.
Lucas gently pushed Jake back onto the seat and raised his legs into a prone position. Then, with a glance at Claire, he removed the keys from the ignition and handed them to her.
“I'll wait here with him,” Claire said. “Till he wakes up.”
THE WHISTLE SHRIEKED, OBLITERATING EVERY
other sound. The ferry strained and vibrated and churned the dark water to a cheerier blue-green. It pulled back from the dock, turning clumsily away from the already failing sun, and pointed its blunt nose across the cold, oily chop toward the island.
Nina Geiger pulled the red-and-white pack of Lucky Strikes from her purse, extracted one cigarette, and popped it in the corner of her mouth. She drew deeply on it and exhaled contentedly.
The young man on the bench behind her leaned forward over her shoulder. “Do you need a light?” A yellow plastic lighter was in his hand.
“No thanks, I don't smoke,” Nina said, speaking around the cigarette. She turned to Zoey Passmore, a willowy blond seated beside her. “The guy's trying to kill me,” Nina said with mock outrage.
Zoey refused to look up from her book. Nina bent forward
and looked past Zoey to Aisha Gray. “What's with Zoey?”
“Studying,” Aisha said with a shrug. Her eyes were closed and her head tilted back to savor the cool breeze on her face. Her mass of black curls floated and bounced like something alive.
“She doesn't need to study,” Nina said to Aisha.
“Yes,
she
does,” Zoey muttered.
“I'm the one who needs to study,” Nina said. “Algebra. It's only the third week of school and I'm already four weeks behind.”
“Who do you have for algebra?” Aisha asked, cracking open one eye.
“Ms. Lehr.”
“You don't have to study for Ms. Lehr's class,” Aisha said.
“Maybe
you
don't have to study for algebra, but trust me,” Nina said, “I do. You can't b.s. algebra. History you can b.s. English is the ultimate b.s. subject. But not math. Math is either right or wrong.”
“Aisha's right,” Zoey said, still studying the book open on her lap. “I had her last year. You can't get less than a
B
-plus in Ms. Lehr's class.”
“Watch me,” Nina said.
Zoey looked up at last, turning amused blue eyes on her friend. “You're not listening, Nina. Ms. Lehr is all into
self-esteem. Everything is self-esteem. She took some seminar or something where they taught her that students have to have self-esteem, and you can't have self-esteem when you're flunking algebra, right? So she gives everyone a good grade.”
“No way.”
Aisha held up her hand as if taking an oath. “True fact.”
Nina laughed. “You're saying I can blow every testâ”
“And you'll get a
B
-plus,” Zoey said. “If you want an A-plus, you have to work a little harder.”
Nina thought it over for a moment. “Wait a minute. How about if I tell Ms. Lehr that my self-esteem will be crushed unless I get an
A
?”
Zoey and Aisha exchanged a look.
“Damn,” Aisha said.
“Never thought of that,” Zoey admitted.
The ferry was up to top speed now, heading across the harbor with its cargo of high school students, homeward-bound shoppers loaded with bags, and early commuters hunched over folded newspapers. The trip to Chatham Island took twenty-five minutes.
Nina saw her sister, Claire, come up from the lower deck. She appeared first as a head of glossy, long black hair rising from the stairwell, then step by step revealed the body that had half the guys at Weymouth High quivering.
Okay, three quarters of the
guys
, Nina corrected herself.
Claire glanced at Nina, then looked away, searching the deck uncertainly for a place to sit. Nina felt a momentary twinge of sympathy but suppressed it. Claire could take care of herself.
Jake McRoyan was leaning against the forward railing, looking thoughtful and distant, his big football player's shoulders hunched forward. Zoey's brother, Benjamin, was toward the back with his earphones on, staring sightlessly ahead through his Ray Bans and taking an occasional bite from a Snickers bar.
Poor Claire
, Nina thought, without too much pity. Trying to find a safe, neutral place to sit, somewhere between her two ex-boyfriends and her sister.
Zoey nudged Nina in the side. She too had caught sight of Claire. “Come on,” Zoey said. “It won't kill you to be nice to your sister.”
Nina made a face. Zoey was a hopelessly nice person. But then, Zoey had spent her life growing up with kind, considerate, decent Benjamin as her only sibling, while Nina had grown up under the ruthless tyranny of Perfect Claire. Ice Princess. Holder of the Record for Early Breast Development. Claire the Zit-proof. Claire of the perfect taste in clothing who had never once worn anything to school that caused large numbers of people to wince and turn away. Claire who must have sold her soul to the devil because she certainly didn't have one that Nina had everâ
“Come on, Nina,” Zoey said in a chiding voice that Nina hated.
Nina growled at Zoey. Then she called out, “Oh, Claiaire.”
Claire came over, looking reserved as always and a little skeptical. “Yes?”
“Would you like to join us?” Nina said, using her fingers to squeeze her mouth into a happy smile.
Claire rolled her eyes. “It's come to this. You're actually feeling sorry for me.”
“No, we're not,” Zoey said quickly.
“Yes, we are,” Nina told her sister. “No one's ever seen you looking pathetic and lost and boyfriendless before.”
Claire sat down beside Nina. “So, of course, you're enjoying it,” she said dryly.
“No, we're not,” Zoey said sincerely.
Aisha made a so-so gesture with her hand.
“You bet we're enjoying it,” Nina said. “At least I was.”
“How are things between you and Jake?” Zoey asked. “I mean, we haven't really talked since . . . since that night.”
Claire shrugged, her eyes uncharacteristically troubled. “I told him everything. He told me to get out.”
Aisha and Zoey stared at her expectantly.
“That's it,” Claire said.
“You know, you're quite a storyteller,” Nina said. “You really made the moment come alive.”
“I went to his room. He was asleep, so I knocked louder. He eventually woke up, and I told him the truth,” Claire said simply. “I said, âHi, Jake, you know how for the last two years you blamed Lucas for crashing the car the night your brother was killed? Well, guess what? It's all come back to me now, and it turns out
I'm
the one who was driving. I ran the car into that tree. Surprise!'” She shook her head. The lightness in her voice had turned to bitterness. “Then he told me he never wanted to speak to me again.” She paused, her eyes studying her hands. “Does that make the moment come alive for you?”
Nina lowered her gaze. “Sorry.”
“Yeah, so am I,” Claire said sharply. “Sorry about what happened two years ago,
sorry I didn't remember, sorry Lucas suffered. Where is he, by the way? I could grovel for him a little.”
“He's at his parole officer's. He still has to go until you guys get all the legal stuff cleared up,” Zoey said.
“Excellent,” Claire said. “Another thing for me to be sorry about.”
“Well,” Nina said, for lack of anything better to say.
“You know, we're all still your friends,” Zoey said, reaching across Nina to put her hand on Claire's arm.
“Really,” Aisha joined in. “What happened two years ago is ancient history. And just because it took you a week longer than it should have to decide to do the right thing, that's not going to turn us against you. It's not like we ever thought you were Joan of Arc.”
“We know how hard it was for you,” Zoey said. “And I know Lucas is cool with it.”
To Nina's amazement, her sister actually looked touched. Claire nodded mutely and looked away. For a moment Nina was afraid Claire might actually cry. It was an unnerving possibility.
“So. All forgiven, all forgotten,” Nina said cheerily. “I guess there's nothing left now but the big group hug.”
Claire gave her sister a dubious look.
“Anyway, we're all friends, right?” Zoey asked hopefully. “I mean, you know, island solidarity and all.”
“I am glad you guys don't hate me,” Claire admitted.
“I never hated you,” Aisha said. “By the time I found out what was going on, it was all over.”
“
I
still can't stand you, Claire,” Nina said helpfully.
Claire smiled her rare, wintry smile. “We're sisters, Nina. We're not supposed to get along. Although Dad will probably want us to try, for a while at least.”
“What do you mean?” Nina asked. “He knows better.”
“You know. While Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Mark are here.”
Nina felt her heart thud. The unlit cigarette fell from her mouth and rolled across the gray-painted steel deck, “What are you talking about?” she demanded.
“Didn't Dad tell you? They're doing the leaf-peeping thing through Vermont and New Hampshire, then they're coming to stay with us for a week. What is the matter with you, are you choking?”
Nina realized her hand was clutching at the collar of her shirt. She forced herself to release her grip. “I better pick up that cig,” Nina said in a low voice. She bent over to retrieve the cigarette, but her fingers were trembling. She took a deep breath and sat back up.
“Are you okay?” Claire asked.
“Fine,” Nina said with forced cheerfulness. “Fine.”
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