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Authors: Julie Gonzalez
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Go get your gear. And don’t forget hats and sunscreen.”
“Man, this is awesome,” called Luke as we climbed aboard. He poked his head into the cabin. “Nice. Hey, Zander, check out the fridge.”
“It has a refrigerator?” Zander asked as he pushed Luke aside.
“And a stove. Like a real kitchen,” I said.
“Galley,” corrected Dad.
“Huh?” asked Zander.
“Galley. On a boat it’s called a galley,” Dad explained.
“Hey, look. Here’s the bathroom,” said Zander after opening a small door.
“Head,” said Dad.
“What?” I was puzzled.
“On a boat you call it a head, not a bathroom,” Dad said.
“So that’s what you’re talking about when you tell Jane to use her head?” Zander said with a sneer.
“Not usually,” said Dad, but I don’t think Zander and Luke heard him because they were laughing so loudly. Dad turned the key. “Just listen to that engine.”
“Can I drive?” asked Zander.
“After we get out in open water,” said Dad. He was beaming like his sweetest dream had come true. “By the end of the summer, all of you are going to know how to operate this vessel.”
“Even Jane?” asked Zander.
“Of course.”
“You’d trust her with your boat?”
I kicked Zander’s ankle. “Why don’t you tie the anchor around your neck and go for a swim, squab,” I suggested.
Betrayal
“W hat’s the matter?” I asked Emma, who was spending the night at my house. She was obviously upset about something.
“I blew my project for Mr. Boucher. Got a B. Knew I should’ve spent more time on the graphics.”
“A B? You’re complaining about a B? What’s wrong with you?”
“Stuff like that eats at me.”
“Geez, people would celebrate if I got a B. I haven’t even turned mine in yet. He’s giving me until Monday.”
“I don’t see how you can be so relaxed about it. I’d be freaking. I wish I was more like you.”
“Me? No one wants to be like me.”
“Things don’t bother you. You laugh. You don’t care.”
I looked out the window across the room. “I don’t always laugh,” I admitted. “Or maybe I do, but I don’t always want to. I just don’t know what else to do. What’s the alternative? Tears? Tears suck.”
Emma grinned. “See. That’s what I mean. You’re invulnerable.”
“Oh Emma, please. I’m way more vulnerable than you are.”
She sighed and fell onto Carmella’s bed. “I don’t think so, Jane. Just more up-front.”
Whatever. I pressed the Play button on my CD player. “This is my favorite song. Maybe they’ll play it at the dance tonight.”
What Sharp and Chord were doing at Kingston Middle School’s dance I couldn’t imagine. It wasn’t like they went to our school or anything. And they looked freaky. Sharp’s hair was crazier that ever, like a million corkscrews had burst from his brain. The faded Sex Pistols T-shirt he wore was so ancient it must have been left over from Elliot’s early years. And the mailman pants with the stripe down each leg were totally geeky. Chord’s fashion statement consisted of nothing but a pair of huge ragged overalls sheared off just below the knees and a pair of Top-Siders.
Chord saw me from across the gym and headed my way. “Howdy there, neighbor Jane,” he said, the twang in his voice underlining his farm-boy attire. He threw his arm around my shoulders.
I smiled. My face felt like it was going to crack. “Chord,” I muttered, twisting away from him. “I see you dressed for the occasion.”
Sharp was now standing there. “What’s up?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I answered flatly. I was certain everyone was wondering who they were and what they were doing hanging around with me. “Why are you two here? You don’t go to this school.”
“But I did last year, and my friends wanted me to come,” explained Chord. “Brought my baby brother with me.” He put Sharp in a headlock and rubbed his head. Sharp laughed and pushed
“Man, this is awesome,” called Luke as we climbed aboard. He poked his head into the cabin. “Nice. Hey, Zander, check out the fridge.”
“It has a refrigerator?” Zander asked as he pushed Luke aside.
“And a stove. Like a real kitchen,” I said.
“Galley,” corrected Dad.
“Huh?” asked Zander.
“Galley. On a boat it’s called a galley,” Dad explained.
“Hey, look. Here’s the bathroom,” said Zander after opening a small door.
“Head,” said Dad.
“What?” I was puzzled.
“On a boat you call it a head, not a bathroom,” Dad said.
“So that’s what you’re talking about when you tell Jane to use her head?” Zander said with a sneer.
“Not usually,” said Dad, but I don’t think Zander and Luke heard him because they were laughing so loudly. Dad turned the key. “Just listen to that engine.”
“Can I drive?” asked Zander.
“After we get out in open water,” said Dad. He was beaming like his sweetest dream had come true. “By the end of the summer, all of you are going to know how to operate this vessel.”
“Even Jane?” asked Zander.
“Of course.”
“You’d trust her with your boat?”
I kicked Zander’s ankle. “Why don’t you tie the anchor around your neck and go for a swim, squab,” I suggested.
Betrayal
“W hat’s the matter?” I asked Emma, who was spending the night at my house. She was obviously upset about something.
“I blew my project for Mr. Boucher. Got a B. Knew I should’ve spent more time on the graphics.”
“A B? You’re complaining about a B? What’s wrong with you?”
“Stuff like that eats at me.”
“Geez, people would celebrate if I got a B. I haven’t even turned mine in yet. He’s giving me until Monday.”
“I don’t see how you can be so relaxed about it. I’d be freaking. I wish I was more like you.”
“Me? No one wants to be like me.”
“Things don’t bother you. You laugh. You don’t care.”
I looked out the window across the room. “I don’t always laugh,” I admitted. “Or maybe I do, but I don’t always want to. I just don’t know what else to do. What’s the alternative? Tears? Tears suck.”
Emma grinned. “See. That’s what I mean. You’re invulnerable.”
“Oh Emma, please. I’m way more vulnerable than you are.”
She sighed and fell onto Carmella’s bed. “I don’t think so, Jane. Just more up-front.”
Whatever. I pressed the Play button on my CD player. “This is my favorite song. Maybe they’ll play it at the dance tonight.”
What Sharp and Chord were doing at Kingston Middle School’s dance I couldn’t imagine. It wasn’t like they went to our school or anything. And they looked freaky. Sharp’s hair was crazier that ever, like a million corkscrews had burst from his brain. The faded Sex Pistols T-shirt he wore was so ancient it must have been left over from Elliot’s early years. And the mailman pants with the stripe down each leg were totally geeky. Chord’s fashion statement consisted of nothing but a pair of huge ragged overalls sheared off just below the knees and a pair of Top-Siders.
Chord saw me from across the gym and headed my way. “Howdy there, neighbor Jane,” he said, the twang in his voice underlining his farm-boy attire. He threw his arm around my shoulders.
I smiled. My face felt like it was going to crack. “Chord,” I muttered, twisting away from him. “I see you dressed for the occasion.”
Sharp was now standing there. “What’s up?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I answered flatly. I was certain everyone was wondering who they were and what they were doing hanging around with me. “Why are you two here? You don’t go to this school.”
“But I did last year, and my friends wanted me to come,” explained Chord. “Brought my baby brother with me.” He put Sharp in a headlock and rubbed his head. Sharp laughed and pushed
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