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  Her parents and Grandma Kath had stopped talking and were looking at her now. Lena raised her eyebrows at them and said to Cole, “Happy.”

  Lena’s parents did, indeed, make her stay home for the rest of the day.

  Lena texted Pem that she’d had a fight with her dad, leaving out the part about the beach and the fugue and the drama. She just said she didn’t feel good, and would talk to her tomorrow.

  By four o’clock, Lena was going stir-crazy. “Mom, please,” she said. “I feel totally fine! Kai called and asked if I could go to the Creamery with him. Please?”

  Her mom shook her head.

  “I’ll bring you home some ice cream,” Lena wheedled.

  “No.”

  “Caramel Mocha Madness? Come on, you know it’s your favorite . . . those little chunks of dark chocolate . . .”

  Her mom laughed and put her arm around Lena. “No, honey. Not even for Caramel Mocha Madness. Grandma told me to keep an eye on you, and I take her orders very seriously.”

  Lena heaved a sigh. “Mom, I know you think I . . . zoned out or fugue’d out or whatever . . .”

  Her mom frowned at this evidence that Lena had listened in on her conversation.

  “But I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m sure I was fully conscious the whole time I was on the beach. I just didn’t hear you calling.”

  “I’m glad you feel better, honey. You’re staying home, though.” She let go of Lena and said, “But if Kai wants to come over here, he’s more than welcome.” She moved into the kitchen. “We’re planning a wild night of football watching. Cole and Dad are fired up about the Raiders game. I’m fired up about lying flat on the couch.”

  “Fine.”

  Lena went to call Kai. “My mom won’t let me out of her sight. Do you want to come over here?”

  “So your parents are home?”

  “Kai! Of course they’re home. They’re going to watch the Raiders game on TV.”

  “They are?”

  “Um, yeah, why?”

  “Well, even I—who knows nothing about football—know the Raiders suck.”

  “They do?”

  “Pretty reliably.”

  “Aw, that’s too bad. Cole likes them because they’re pirates. Which is also why he likes the Buccaneers. So do you want to come over?”

  “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  When the knock on the door came, Lena opened it and Kai burst into the house, his hand on his heart, singing, “Summer lovin’. . . had me a blast!”

  She laughed. “I take it the Drama Club decided on Grease.”

  “Yes, and you are going to help me practice for the audition.”

  “I am?”

  “Of course you are. And Lena, seriously, with your voice, you should try out for the show, too.”

  “Not even maybe,” she said. “But thank you. That’s sweet.” She headed for the stairs.

  Kai followed. “Well, yeah, I am totally sweet. But for real, Lena, you should audition. It’s just not right to keep that amazing voice hidden. And wouldn’t it be great if we both ended up with the lead roles? You and me . . . Sandy and Danny!” At the top of the stairs, he caught her in both arms and kissed her.

  Just then Lena’s mom came out of her bedroom, and her eyes widened.

  Kai and Lena sprang apart.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hello, Kai.”

  Then no one spoke for a long moment. Finally Lena’s mom said, “Why don’t you two join us downstairs for the game?”

  “Uh, Mom?” said Lena. “We’re not into football.”

  “Neither am I,” said her mom. “But it’s nice to be with the family, right?”

  “Sure.”

  “Lena’s going to help me practice some songs for an audition,” offered Kai. “We’re doing Grease this year.”

  “Oh. How nice.”

  Nervous, he added, “I told her she should try out, too.”

  “Lena does have a beautiful voice,” said her mom, smiling. “But the only person she ever sings for is Cole.”

  “Come on,” said Lena, pushing him down the hall toward her room. “We’ll join you later,” she called back to her mom.

  “Don’t forget to—”

  “Yes, Mom, I’ll leave my door open.” She rolled her eyes.

  Flopping down on her bed, Kai crossed his arms behind his head. “I guess I’m pretty special.”

  “Why is that?” asked Lena, sitting down next to him.

  “Your mom thinks you only sing for Cole. But you sing for me, too.”

  “That’s only because you heard me singing to Cole and wouldn’t shut up until I sang to you, too.”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her down next to him. “I remember. It was his bedtime. You sang, ‘I Can See Clearly Now.’” His expression softened. “It was so beautiful.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s one of his favorites.” She rolled on her side and looked at Kai.

  “So will you help me practice for Grease?”

  “I guess. But I’m not trying out, so you might as well give up on that idea.”

  “Oh, Sandy,” he sang. “I sit and wonder why-yi-yi-yi . . .”

  She giggled. Kai trailed off, gazing at her, and she knew what was next.

  They kissed for a few minutes, until Lena heard her dad making a lot of noise coming up the stairs. She and Kai sat up hastily, and Kai moved to the chair beside her desk.

  Her dad appeared in the doorway, wearing a Raiders bandanna and carrying Cole’s plastic sword. “Arrgh!” he cried. “Come downstairs, me hearties.”

  “Oh,” said Kai. “Yo ho.”

  Lena stood up and walked out of her room. Kai followed, and her dad brandished the sword at him as he passed, saying, “Ye scurvy knave! I’ll teach ye to eye me daughter with yer filthy peepers!”

  “Right,” said Kai. “Um, argh.”

  After the Raiders lost, Lena walked Kai out to his car.

  “Sweet dreams,” he said.

  She kissed him, then backed away, singing, “My head is saying, ‘Fool, forget him’ . . . My heart is saying, ‘Don’t let gooooo’ . . .”

  Grinning, Kai put his hands to his heart in a display of theatrical devotion.

  When Lena woke up on the beach that night, she sank to her knees.

  Oh, God, she thought, her heart leaping with fright. There is something wrong with me.

  Shipwreck Rocks were closer this time. She watched the sweep of light from the lighthouse and listened to the call of the foghorn. After a few minutes, the terrified pounding of her heart was calmed by the regular pounding of the waves.

  One thing she knew for sure: it was time to tell Kai and Pem.

  Chapter 7

  “Would you stop looking at me like that?” said Lena.

  Kai jumped. “Like what?”

  “Like I’m dying!”

  They were eating lunch in the middle of a noisy bunch of drama people—Kai’s friends, mostly—who kept bursting into songs from Grease and doing the hand jive.

  “I’m sorry! I can’t help it. Are you sure you’re okay?” Kai put his arm around Lena, even though they had resolved not to force Pem to witness public displays of affection.

  “Of course. Don’t I look okay?”

  “You look fine,” said Pem. “But what if—” There was a tightness to her voice that Lena had never heard before.

  She’s scared for me, thought Lena. She’s scared I’m really sick.

  And what if there was something seriously wrong with her? Would Pem be able to handle it? Pem hated sad movies and sad songs and sad news in general. She still talked about the time her parents had let her watch E.T. when she was eight years old. “He was dead,” she always said. “The bag was zipped up. It was horrible. I had nightmares for weeks.”

  In the cheerful light of day, Lena’s sleepwalking seemed less ominous. But coupled with her fainting episode, she could see why her friends were worried.

  “Pem,” she said, making her voice
as reassuring as she could, “I’m sure it’s nothing. But . . . well, I wanted to tell you guys. I thought maybe one of you would say, ‘Yeah, I sleepwalk all the time.’”

  “No, I’m glad you told us,” said Pem. “But you really have to tell your parents.”

  “What? No.” Lena shook her head. “No way.”

  “Lena, I’ve never heard of anyone doing that before. It doesn’t sound like normal sleepwalking. What if you have—?” But she wouldn’t finish the sentence.

  Lena finished the sentence inside her own mind: a brain tumor.

  “Fine,” said Pem impatiently. “If you won’t tell them, I will.”

  Outraged, Lena burst out, “NO! Do not tell my parents.”

  “Lena, we’re talking about your life—”

  Kai waved his hands between them. “Wait a minute, wait a minute. It’s so obvious what’s going on. Don’t you see it?”

  “See what?” asked Pem. Her arms were crossed, and she was glaring.

  “The reason she’s sleepwalking.”

  “The reason?” repeated Lena.

  “It’s so obvious,” said Kai again. “I can’t believe you didn’t figure it out. It’s the surfing.”

  “The . . . what?”

  “Okay, listen: Lena has been obsessed with learning to surf, right?”

  “So?”

  “So she talked to her dad about surfing lessons again, and he said no, like he always does, and she’s been upset about it. So her subconscious has been fixated on that, right? And even though she’s asleep, her subconscious is trying to figure out how to . . . to make her dad change his mind. And for some reason, her subconscious makes her leave the house and go to the beach. Where the surfing is.”

  Both girls stared at him.

  “That’s crazy,” said Lena finally.

  “No, it actually makes sense,” said Pem.

  “It does not!”

  “Right,” said Kai. “I’m crazy. Meanwhile, you’re not the one zombie-ing around at midnight.” He stood up and staggered around, arms outstretched, groaning, “Brainz!” Then he pretended to be a zombie doing the hand jive.

  Pem cracked up, and even Lena smiled. She got up and tossed her apple core into the trash. She opened a bottle of iridescent white nail polish and began to apply it to her fingernails, signaling the end of the discussion. “Pem, if it happens again, I’ll tell my parents. But not right now.”

  Pem frowned. “You’re making a mistake.”

  “I’m starting to think it was a mistake to tell you,” said Lena.

  Kai froze, mid-jive.

  “That’s harsh,” said Pem.

  “Can I trust you?” Lena looked up from her nail polish, all hint of humor gone from her expression.

  After a moment, Pem nodded.

  There was an uncomfortable minute while Lena continued to paint her nails, Kai focused on his pizza, and Pem sat in wounded silence.

  Finally, with an attempt at lightening the mood, Pem said, “Guess who I saw on my way in this morning?”

  Lena and Kai exchanged looks.

  “No idea,” said Lena, smirking.

  “Do tell,” said Kai, propping his chin on his hand and making wide eyes, as if hanging on her every word.

  “You know who,” said Pem. “Max.” She beamed.

  “Mad Max?” said Kai.

  “Quit calling him that!”

  “I’ll quit calling him that when he quits gunning his motor like a poser.”

  “Kai, he drives a 1971 Mach One. Of course the motor is loud. That’s why they call them muscle cars.”

  “Pemberley, there’s a difference between merely driving your muscle car, and revving the engine like it’s an extension of your manhood,” said Kai.

  Lena hid her smile with her hand.

  Pem narrowed her eyes. She hated to be called Pemberley. “You don’t even have your driver’s license yet. I think you’re just jealous.”

  “What does having a license have to do with your boyfriend’s overcompensating?” said Kai. “I have ears. He revs his engine. Loudly.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” muttered Pem.

  Max had been a senior at their school last year, and he went to San Francisco State now, so he still lived at home. He drove his brother to school sometimes, which allowed Pem to maintain her crush on him.

  “He was looking at me, though,” added Pem, glancing at Lena.

  Of course he was, thought Lena. Who wouldn’t? Pem was all big chocolate eyes, clear tanned skin, and bright white teeth. Her black hair hung almost to her waist. She was like a tall drink of gorgeous. Lena pondered her own boringly pale face, with its freckled nose and cheeks, and the scattering of zits that showed up like clockwork once a month. Next to beautiful Pem, Lena knew she was a single shot of nondescript. More than once, Lena had wondered what made Kai choose her.

  “He’s got the poutiest lips,” continued Pem, staring off into space. She opened her vintage I Dream of Jeannie lunchbox—which she used as a purse—and extracted a tube of lip gloss.

  “Hmm.” Lena thought Max’s pouty lips made him look spoiled.

  “Hey, Leen,” said Kai.

  “Yeah?”

  He folded his second slice of pizza in half. “Why don’t you ask my sister to teach you to surf?” He took another massive bite.

  Lena hesitated. “Did she tell you about that?”

  “Abou’ wha’?” he asked, mouth full.

  “She offered to teach me.”

  “When?”

  “The other day at Back Yard.”

  He swallowed. “Oh, cool. I didn’t know. She’s a really good teacher. She taught me and Jamie.”

  “That’s a great idea!” said Pem.

  “I don’t think so,” said Lena. “She’s too intimidating.”

  “Nah,” said Kai. “It’s true she’s a big old Amazon, but don’t let that scare you. She just looks fierce. She actually cries every time she has to go back to school and leave her cat.”

  “What about a board?” said Lena.

  Kai swallowed, then scratched the dozen scraggly whiskers on his chin. “There’s a soft-top board in our garage. It’s the one we all learned on.”

  A thrill of rebelliousness fluttered in Lena’s belly. She could almost feel the waves lifting her on the board, could almost taste the salt of the sea on her lips.

  “Want me to ask her?” said Kai.

  “Yay!” said Pem. “Finally!”

  Lena opened her mouth to say yes. “I better not,” she answered. She was almost as surprised as Pem and Kai to hear those words.

  Chapter 8

  After school, Lena went home to an empty house. Her mom was still at the banking conference she had organized. Cole stayed at after-school daycare when both parents worked.

  Lena cranked her favorite band—the Blue Lunatiks—on the iPod stereo while she searched through the cupboards in the kitchen. Where’s the—?

  She reached for a bag of chips, then stood looking at them. The chips?

  She opened the bag and munched a few. No, but there was never a wrong time for chips. She looked around the kitchen, even opening the freezer. Not in here.

  Lena wandered out to the living room. She opened the hall closet and peered inside.

  This is crazy, she thought. WHAT am I looking for?

  She ate a few more chips and put the bag away. She went upstairs and stood in the middle of her room, frowning. It must be in here . . . whatever it was. She went to her bureau and looked at her collection of cobalt-blue glass—started for her by Grandma Kath, whose birthplace was Bristol, England, famous for blue glass. Lena had some animals—a cat, a swan, a seal, and an angelfish, plus a few little perfume bottles and a sea-glass marble with veins of cobalt in it. She even had a miniature blue teapot with creamer and sugar bowl, all on a tiny tray. Nothing was missing.

  Her gaze fell on the wooden hope chest at the foot of her bed. It was full of old toys, books, schoolwork, and photos. Hmm . . . maybe it’s in he
re. She lifted the lid and propped it open.

  Her favorite stuffed animals—the ones she had not been able to part with when Cole was born—lay on top in the chest.

  Aw, Pinky, she thought, pulling out a stuffed pink hippo. She set Pinky down on the floor next to her, then extracted a plush bunny, a chenille teddy, Puss-in-Boots (complete with shiny black boots and feathered hat), and a green sea turtle.

  The next layer down was a bunch of file folders containing elementary-school assignments and artwork. I really can’t draw, she thought, perusing her crayoned stick figures.

  Oh, here was her family tree. That was the big fourth-grade project. Lena remembered worrying that her tree would look strange, with three parents on it. But when she saw her classmates’ family trees, she stopped worrying. Pem had two moms—she had been adopted from Guatemala when she was a baby—as did Zoe. Their friend Ryder had two dads. Andre and Kenny, who were twins, lived with their grandmother.

  Lena slid her old school papers back in the file folders and set them aside.

  Underneath a fuzzy pastel baby blanket, Lena found a photo album, its pages tied shut with yellow ribbon. She lifted it carefully out of the trunk. It was full of photos from her early childhood, before her mother died. She hadn’t looked at it in years.

  Even as she opened the cover, Lena knew the photo album wasn’t what she was looking for. It’s too big, she thought, then made a frustrated sound. What wasn’t too big?

  Lena flipped the pages in the album. Here she was as a newborn, plump and squished-looking, without any hair. There was a shot of her parents surrounded by flowers and balloons that said, “It’s a girl!” and “Congratulations!” She was just a tiny bundle in her mom’s arms in that one. Her dad looked so young and happy as he gazed at his wife and baby.

  She turned the pages. There were more baby pictures . . . sleeping, posed in various outfits, wide-eyed and solemn, grinning toothlessly through a faceful of mashed peas, clapping, reaching for her dad, laughing . . . so many photos.

  Lena turned the last page of the album and stared down at the photo of her mother. Lucy looked radiant in that shot, with her brilliant green eyes and reddish gold hair. The color of honey on fire, Lena remembered her dad saying once, long ago. Despite her beauty, Lucy’s heart-shaped face was pale. She must have already been sick, thought Lena.