CHAPTER 1
Delaware, Present Day
I was sitting in Grandma Anna’s dusty attic, surrounded by piles of paper. In front of me were two cardboard boxes with faded labels. The naked bulb above me gave just enough light to illuminate the part of the room where I was sitting. Everything else was in the shadows; the countless boxes and covered pieces of furniture farther back merged into weird, bulky shapes. I was a little spooked, but a moving company was coming in two days to clear out Grandma’s house and I wanted to see if there was anything important or interesting up here. My parents were downstairs, sorting coffee mugs and wrapping photos. The house would soon be sold; some potential buyers were actually coming later that same day with a real estate agent.
Digging into the box again, I pulled out another stack of papers. Dust rose and danced in the flickering light, making me sneeze. It was strange; I had never realized that dust could have its very own smell. Old and secretive. Feeling a bit like a grave robber, I kept going. I had no idea what I might find between the old receipts, bills, and newspaper clippings. I sighed, wishing Grandma were sitting next to me so she could tell me the story behind each slip of paper.
If I kept going at this speed, I would wind up spending the whole night up here with the cobwebs. So, determined to pick up the pace, I pulled my hair back in a ponytail and plopped the next two bundles into my discard pile, just as mercilessly as I had with countless other papers. There was absolutely nothing worth a second glance in the next box, and I started to wonder whether I should even bother opening any others.
My stomach rumbled loudly. I tried to estimate the time based on how hungry I was. Still, I was slightly curious, so I decided to try one more box. I figured, why not? My fingers were already black from the newspaper ink.
Pulling the box a bit closer, I was surprised to see that it was even dustier than the others. It looked like it hadn’t been opened at all in the past fifty years. I imagined finding secret papyrus rolls, a gold chalice, or even writing carved into stone.
I took a deep breath and removed the lid. No sign of rare antiquities. But there was something about this box that made me think it was worth taking a closer look. A splash of red underneath a pile of yellowed papers caught my eye. It was a book with a leather cover—maybe a journal or a diary, I thought—and I carefully took it out. Next, I pulled out a huge pile of crumbling newspapers. I had almost given up hope of finding anything else interesting when my fingers ran into something hard. I groped around to get a good grip and tugged it out.
I held it up directly under the bare lightbulb. In my palm was a fairly unspectacular piece of jewelry: a tarnished silver chain and a round silver pendant. On the front was a circle with a bundle of arrows inside it. A ribbon was wound around the arrows and tied in the middle. Some words were engraved on the pendant—they seemed to be written in a foreign language—but it was so tarnished I couldn’t make them out, even though I rubbed it on my jeans to try and get the gunk off. The necklace couldn’t exactly be described as a treasure, but it was the most valuable thing I’d unearthed so far. I couldn’t remember ever seeing my grandma wear it, but I would definitely keep it.
I was still turning and twisting my find in the light, trying to decipher the writing, when my dad called for me.
“Sam! Can you please come down? We could really use your help putting all these boxes in the car.”
I sighed, shoved the necklace into my pocket, and called down the stairs to say that I’d be right there.
Looking over the papers and garbage bags strewn around the attic, I wasn’t sure all of my digging around had been of any use. But that little red book, the necklace, and a pile of letters I’d found—they seemed like they at least might be important. I figured I’d take another look at them at home. I stuffed them into my backpack and started to stand up, but my legs were almost numb from sitting cross-legged for such a long time. As I cautiously made my way down the steps, I heard a creaking sound from above and I turned around for a final look. I guessed this would be the last time I’d be in this house.
“Good-bye, Grandma,” I murmured. “I’m going to miss you.”
It felt wrong to me that we were selling Grandma’s house so soon after she had died, but my parents disagreed. I’d been avoiding them all day. Feeling for the necklace in my pocket, I swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in my throat and put on an artificial smile.
“I’m here. Which boxes first?”
There was a chaotic pile of boxes in the driveway, and it looked like there was no way it was all going to fit into our car. Even if we could stuff everything in, I couldn’t see where I was going to sit.
But believe it or not, we managed to wedge everything in, like a giant puzzle, and I actually wasn’t too squished on the short trip home.
Our house was on Silver Lake in Milford, Delaware, only fifteen miles away from Grandma’s. I thought about how all these boxes with her belongings would now be put into our attic, probably only to be rediscovered when someone went through our stuff after we were gone.
It was already dark by the time we’d carried everything in. While Mom disappeared into the kitchen to make us a quick dinner, I sat down to do my homework. I hadn’t even started it when the phone rang.
“Hi, Kim,” I said as I picked up the phone without even checking the caller ID.
Kim hadn’t said a word, but she didn’t need to. Ever since we’d been in elementary school, she’d called every day at the exact same time to talk about important topics—mostly boys.
“Hi, Sam. How was it?”
“Dusty. But we finished everything.”
I was surprised she’d remembered to ask me about Grandma’s house. She’d been a little self-centered lately.
“Good, I’m glad that’s over with.” Then as expected, she quickly changed the topic. “You’ll never guess who I saw today.”
Kim’s enthusiasm practically radiated through the phone. I knew her cheeks must be pink with euphoria.
There was only one boy in Milford who could evoke such excitement, but I pretended not to know. “No idea… Tell me, who?”
“Ryan Baker!” She shouted so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear. “I was in line in front of him, so that means he got in line behind me!”
There was a meaningful silence. I shook my head.
Ryan was the coolest guy at our school. He was seventeen, a junior, just like us, and the quarterback of the football team. He had wild wheat-blond hair, luscious full lips, and cornflower-blue eyes. And, oh yeah, those devastating six-pack abs. Pretty much the entire school either wanted Ryan or wanted to be Ryan.
“Wow,” I exclaimed, although I didn’t think there was that much for her to be excited about, to be honest.
Hardly listening as she gushed on and on, I went back to my geography homework. I was trying to be a good friend, though, so at regular intervals I’d let out an affirmative mumble or an astonished “Really?” followed by a breathless “Unbelievable!”
For Kim, every day was evaluated in terms of being a good day or a bad day on the Ryan Scale. This was definitely a good day for Kim.
As for me, I tended to avoid Ryan entirely. I’d made a fool of myself in front of him—and half the school—two years before at my friend Grace’s birthday party. Her parents weren’t home, the party was going full speed, and we had decided to play spin the bottle. On Ryan’s spin, everyone held their breath as the bottle wobbled around, telepathically trying to get the bottle to stop in front of them. Everyone was laughing and clapping when the bottle slowed and pointed at me. Ryan had an amused look on his face as he crawled over to where I was sitting. My heart almost stopped beating, and I turned bright red. Then Lisa, of course, had to ruin everything.
“I heard that our little Sam has never been kissed,” she said tauntingly. “So Ryan, honey—do your best to give her something to dream about for the next twenty years.”
Lisa flounced to the side, laughing away in her size-two jeans. I’d always hated that blonde perfectly perfect daughter of a plastic surgeon, and I sure as hell hated her more at that moment.
“So what?” I shouted defiantly.
Ryan pulled me over to give me the first kiss of my life, but I pushed him aside, scrambled up, and ran away. Tears of humiliation ran down my face as I tore through the living room and out the front door. The whole way home, I muttered dark curses to myself, all along the same lines: what a horrible, mean person Lisa was. Naturally, she’d probably kissed hundreds of boys.
Ever since that night, I’d been avoiding Ryan. I’d hide if I saw him in the grocery store, and I’d duck into another classroom if I saw him coming down the hall at school. I certainly wasn’t going to talk to him, much less look him in the eye. Frankly, I thought Kim was getting her hopes a little high by crushing on him. Ryan was the kind of guy who preferred to be seen with the popular cheerleaders, not the whip-smart editor of the school paper.
“Kim”—I interrupted our one-sided chat—“my mom just called me to dinner. We can talk tomorrow, OK?”
“Oh, sure. But think about it, because the beach party this weekend is going to be incredible. And I definitely can’t go alone. Please, please, please, if you’re my friend, come with me!”
“I’m sorry, Kim. I really don’t want to hang out with Lisa and her crowd.”
“Please… Please…” She made whiny little puppy noises. It was unbearable.
“OK, OK. I’ll think about it. But I’m not promising anything.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best!”
“I said I wasn’t promising anything.”
“I know. But I know you’ll come!” I heard her giggle as I hung up the phone.
I sighed and hoped the beach party didn’t involve swimsuits. I mean, I’m fine with my body. I’ve always liked that I’m thin, but I don’t have much to offer on top. And being compared with Lisa and company, well, I bet even someone like Jennifer Lawrence would feel intimidated. But, I thought, if we had to wear swimsuits, I could always wrap myself in a brown towel and try to blend into the shoreline.
At school the next day, Mr. Schneider wanted to see my geography homework. And just as I had feared, he wasn’t happy with the poorly done map I’d drawn of the subregions of Europe and he gave me a C. Wonderful. There was only one month left in the semester to improve my grade. Frustrated, I banged my locker shut.
I looked up and saw Kim barreling down the hallway. Jeez, she practically shoved a ninth-grader out of her path to get to me.
Kim’s black pixie cut and her chunky black-rimmed glasses suited her journalist-wannabe image. Actually, she was well on her way to her dream, with all the reporting and editing she’d been doing for the student paper.
“So,” she said conspiratorially, “I’m on my way to the field to interview some of the football players about healthy food. Want to come with me?”
Although it was spring, the football team still had practice. In the off-season, they’d run sprints, lift weights, and basically just act manly. It was kind of gross, if you asked me, even if their year-round dedication had helped make them the state champions for several years in a row.
Kim was pulling me along by my sleeve when I realized which player she wanted to interview.
“Sorry, I don’t have time,” I told her. “I just got another C and I really need to do some homework.”
“Come on. It won’t take long. And I’ll buy you nachos after, to make up for all our reporting on healthy food.”
Bribery.
Before I knew what was happening, I was sitting on the bleachers behind the school, watching Ryan and the other boys show off in front of the cheerleaders. Lisa squealed loudly when Ryan threw her over his shoulder and ran around the track. They laughed as they rejoined the others. Lisa was shamelessly flirting with Ryan, stroking his arm. Yuck. Kim saw this as her cue, and she marched toward the team with her notebook under her arm, determined to prevent any further advances by Lisa.
“Gentlemen!” she called out. “I’m doing a story on healthy snacks for athletes. Can you help me with some quotes?” She elbowed in, right in front of Lisa, and beamed up at the players, and I wondered if I was the only one who noticed that the football team was featured in the paper with astonishing frequency. I had a sneaking suspicion that raging hormones and starry eyes had distorted most other readers’ perceptions.
I was annoyed. Screw the nachos, I thought.
I got up and started walking home. Silver Lake was pretty close-by, just a few blocks from school, past the hospital where Mom worked
I was about halfway there when Ryan caught up with me. Sure, he lived in the same neighborhood, but we hardly ever crossed paths. And he was still in his football jersey, so I was confused. Had he come after me? That seemed unlikely. I was wearing my favorite Levi’s 501s, which were a bit worn and frayed at the hem, my gray Converse sneakers, and my mom’s old Nirvana shirt. Not exactly the most alluring ensemble.
“Hi, Sam.”
“Uh… hey, Ryan.”
Even an exchange this mundane would rate high on Kim’s Ryan Scale, but I stared at the sidewalk, hoping that aliens would come down and take me away.
“I saw you at practice,” Ryan said.
Man, his voice was sexy.
“Um… yeah. I was keeping Kim company.”
“That’s what she said. She also said that you’re both coming to the beach.”
“If she said it, then it must be so.”
What was with me? Why was I suddenly spouting philosophy? I had no idea what Ryan wanted from me. I truly did not want to spend time with him; I always felt like an idiot around him. I could hardly wait to get to the next corner when I would turn onto my street and Ryan could go along his merry way. We walked silently next to each other until I crossed the street.
“Bye,” I mumbled.
“Bye! See you on Saturday,” called Ryan. “I’ll see you there!”
I almost stumbled. Do not turn around, I told myself. I felt like he was looking at my back as I walked away, but since when was Ryan interested in me?
When I got home, I went into the kitchen and threw my backpack in the corner. My mom was waiting for me.
“I went to help Kim with the school paper,” I said, explaining why I was late.
“It’s OK. I just wanted to talk to you about something.”
Mom took a plate out of the cabinet and loaded it with lasagna. She put it on the table, with a fork and a glass of water. I started to eat, but—ow!—the lasagna was piping hot. There was hot oil hiding underneath the melted cheese. Swearing under my breath, I gulped down almost all of my water.
“What did you want to talk about?” I mumbled as I tried to examine the roof of my mouth with my tongue.
Mom shook her head and made some soft clucking sounds. I burned my mouth all the time. I just wasn’t capable of eating slowly. She set a whole bottle of water next to me and started washing the pans in the sink.
“Uncle Eddie called yesterday and asked if Ashley could visit us for a couple of weeks this summer. What do you think of that?”
I swallowed and gave her a strong, hard stare. She shrugged and turned back to the dishes.
“That’s what I thought. But your dad thinks it’s a great idea. Ashley’s going to come right at the beginning of the summer, since Eddie has a tour to finish then. I’m not sure how long she’ll stay. It’ll probably depend on the weather. She loves the lake, you know.”
Oh, I knew. Ashley is my cousin from Illinois. Her father, Eddie, is a truck driver who seems to always be away on long-haul tours across the Yukon. Her mom died in an accident seven years before, so Ashley had been with us a lot since then. Although we were both the same age, we didn’t really have much in common, and I wasn’t psyched about her coming to visit.
I pushed the plate away and got up, stopping at the window to look out at the lakefront, which stretched right up to our garden. Silver Lake really was beautiful.
When I was still small, my dad and I built a wooden pier so that we could jump off it into the water, and to have a place to tie up our boat. I had happy memories of us sitting there together, letting our feet dangle into the lake. But since last summer, I didn’t like the pier as much.
Ashley had spent the month of June with us, and within a week, half the boys in town were in love with her—if love is the right word. Including Ryan. He’d been glued to her side the entire summer. One evening after I’d said good night, they went for a walk alone and then headed for the pier together, where they did God-knows-what. When Ashley came into the room we had to share, I pretended to be asleep. I couldn’t say what annoyed me more: that she sucked up so much of the town’s attention or that she had ruined my pier.
The thought that that terrible summer might repeat itself was depressing. And I was pissed that my parents had made the decision without me.
“Great. Sounds just great!” I grabbed my bag and stormed up to my room.
I felt quite content with the loud bang that reverberated through the house when I slammed the door. I turned my music way up and dropped onto the bed. I couldn’t believe I’d have to welcome Ashley for her magnificent comeback. And just when Ryan seemed to have noticed me for the first time. Oh well, I thought, who cares about them?
As I raked around in my backpack looking for my homework, I came upon Grandma’s red book.
I’m usually pretty tidy, but my bag is the exception—it’s ruled by anarchy. I thought I’d put the diary, or whatever this leather book was, onto my bookshelf, but apparently I hadn’t.
I leafed through it. Each page was filled with beautiful old-fashioned handwriting—tight, perfect, curvy shapes. I figured I’d have plenty of time to read through it on summer evenings, while dodging the Ashley-Ryan lovefest.
Then I remembered my real find. The necklace.
I tried to recall where I’d left it. I rummaged through the hamper in the bathroom until I found the pants I’d been wearing in Grandma’s attic. Phew, the necklace was there, in the pocket. I pulled it out and went back into my room. Twisting and turning the pendant under my desk lamp, I could now see that there was something written on the front above the arrows. The elegant writing was so delicate it was hardly visible.