“Nope. Some days it’s even worse.” Caroline hopped on her bike. “That’s why I always come over to your house.”

The back door slammed open and the otter fled across the yard and into the dunes. The boys chased after it, and then Mom appeared, yelling at them to get inside and clean this place up.

“Your brothers are kind of nutty,” Sierra observed.

“You think? Let’s go.” Caroline pedaled away from the drama. Her annoyance evaporated as they rode their bikes into town, savoring the feel of the sunshine on their bare arms and legs and the smells of new growth all around them.

They locked the bikes to a rack near the boardwalk and joined the stream of people heading to the beach. The weather was perfect, warm and golden, the light of early evening glimmering across the water.

The beach scene was everything Caroline loved about summer—music drifting from someone’s car speakers, a volleyball game going on in the sand, kites sailing overhead, coolers filled with frosty cans of root beer and candy-colored soda, bowls of chips and dips set out on long tables, grown-ups standing around the clam pit, drinking and gossiping. She loved the clothes people put on for summer, too—white jeans and gold jewelry, fluttery swimsuit cover-ups and bare feet, toenails painted seashell pink. Looking around, she saw nothing as interesting as Sierra’s outfit.

Caroline and Sierra helped out in the church booth, signing up kids for youth group. “We’re getting a mad rush of boys,” Caroline said as Sierra collected a stack of sign-up clipboards. “They’re all checking you out.”

“They can check all they want,” she said breezily. “If my dad catches them . . .” She swiped her finger across her throat. “Dad’s clueless, though,” she added, watching her father passing out summer activities calendars. “Come on, let’s escape while we can.”

They left the booth and went to hang out with their friends. A group of them, led by Rona Stevens, got up the nerve to dance. “Come on,” Sierra said, grabbing Caroline’s hand. “Let’s go for it.”

Madonna’s “Nothing Really Matters” broke the ice. The number loosened everyone up, and pretty soon they were all crowded together on the sand, laughing and bumping into one another and trying out new dance moves. Sierra was practically drowning in compliments on her new dress. Caroline basked in the reflected glow. A couple of high school girls even asked if she could make outfits for them.

After a while, they took a break for a cold drink. Zane Hardy, who had been Caroline’s lab partner in biology last year, handed her a can. “Lemonade okay?” he asked.

“Sure, thanks.” She took a sip, then pressed the chilled can to her neck. “I worked up a sweat out there.”

“Yeah, I saw.” Zane cleared his throat. “I mean, um, you’re a good dancer.”

“You think?” Caroline chuckled. “No way.”

“Sure, you are. I always feel like such a dork when I dance.”

She set down her can. “You’re probably thinking too much. Forget you’re dancing and have fun.”

“New York City Boy” came through the speakers—totally danceable. “Come on,” she said, leading the way. “Nobody’s gonna think you’re a dork.”

He balked, but only for a few seconds. Once they joined the crowd, everybody kind of mashed together, and by the end of the song, Zane was busting a move along with everyone else.

“See?” Caroline teased. “You’re a New York City boy.”

“And you’re cool,” he said. “We should hang out this summer.”

Oh. Well. She didn’t know if he was coming on to her or simply being friendly. There was only one way to find out. “Are you coming on to me or just being friendly?”

His cheeks turned bright red. “I don’t . . . I’m not . . .”

She felt bad for making him stammer. Boys were such a combination of bravado and insecurity. She saw that trait in her brothers all the time. “Sorry. My mom says I’m blunt as a spoon.”

At that moment, Sierra came over and grabbed Caroline’s arm. “Oh, hey, Zane.”

“Hiya,” he said, his face still red.

“I need to borrow Caroline for a minute.” She pivoted away, towing Caroline along behind her. “That kid is totally crushing on you,” she said.

“Who? Zane?” Now Caroline felt a blush coming on.

“Of course Zane. I can tell. He’s cute, too.”

“I guess . . .” Was he? Longish hair parted on the side. Skinny jeans and a vintage T-shirt. He had a nice smile. That made him cute, she supposed.

“I need to show you something. So, remember how I said I’d know him when I see him?” asked Sierra.

“What? Who? Oh, yeah. Mr. Darcy.”

Sierra pointed Caroline toward a lone figure down by the water’s edge, tossing a Frisbee for a hyper little dog. “Well, I just saw him. Only I don’t think he’s called Darcy.”

Caroline stared in the direction Sierra was pointing and felt a jolt of recognition shoot through her body.

He wasn’t Darcy.

He was taller, of course. That was what boys did—they got taller every year. He was lean, but more muscular, too, his shoulders and legs silhouetted against the rushing waves. His shirtless torso glistened with salt water or sweat. The sunlight glinted gold on his hair, and his voice was deep and unfamiliar as he called out a familiar name. “Duffy! Here, boy!”

Caroline’s stomach churned. It was Will Jensen. Will and his grandparents’ dog, Duffy.

“Oh well, shoot,” she stammered, “he’s not—”

Sierra wasn’t listening. When the Frisbee went flying past, she snatched it out of the air like a trained athlete. They’d been in gym class together all year, and Caroline had never seen her friend execute a move like that.

Now in possession of the Frisbee, Sierra laughed as the dog danced frantically around her. “What a cute little guy,” she called out. “Can I throw it for him?”

“Sure,” said Will, scooping up a T-shirt as he came toward them. His stare seemed to be glued to Sierra. Of course it was. She looked utterly, totally amazing in the dress Caroline had made for her. In the deepening light, she was almost too beautiful to be real, like a mermaid. No wonder Will couldn’t look away, even as he yanked on a familiar Go Navy T-shirt over his head.

She flung the disc into the air, and Duffy scampered after it. “I’m Sierra,” she said.

And I’m invisible, thought Caroline.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m—”

“That’s Will,” Caroline interrupted, her voice a bit louder than she’d intended.

The moment she spoke up, his attention swiveled to her. His face lit with a grin that was suddenly familiar, despite the deep voice and big shoulders. “Hey, stranger,” he said.

“Hey, yourself,” she replied, her heart racing as if she’d just sprinted a hundred yards. “You’re back.” She had an insane fantasy in her mind that he would sweep her up like Rhett did Scarlett in Gone with the Wind and kiss her so hard she fainted.

“You guys know each other?” asked Sierra. “That’s so cool.” She snapped her fingers. “Your grandmother’s Mrs. Jensen, right? We saw her yesterday. I should have recognized the dog.”

Duffy came racing back with the Frisbee. Neither Will nor Sierra seemed to notice the dog, so Caroline flung the disc for him again. It caught the breeze and seemed to go for miles.

“Are you hungry?” Sierra asked Will.

“Always. How about you?”

“Starving,” Sierra said.

She was never starving. She barely ate. Maybe meeting Will had whetted her appetite. Chattering away, she walked with him toward the food tables, now laden with steaming trays of clams, potatoes, and corn.

Caroline trailed along in their wake. Her stomach was in knots. Literally, it was. She knew she wouldn’t be able to eat a single bite.

Right before her eyes, Sierra and Will seemed drawn to each other like magnets. Instant attraction, a high school Lizzy and Darcy.

Suddenly the magical summer Caroline had imagined wasn’t so magical after all. She grabbed a piece of driftwood and stabbed it into the sand, furious at herself. She should have said something to Sierra. She should have just come out and admitted the truth. And the truth was, she’d had a crush on Will Jensen ever since she’d figured out what a crush was.

Now they were both lost to her—her best friend and her crush—and she’d been the one who had made it happen.

She glared at the beach scene—people playing and dancing, gathering at the booths, buying chances at the cakewalk and raffle. Summer at the beach—the season she looked forward to all year long.

And beyond it all, the great wild ocean stretched out to infinity.

Part Four

Appreciate the journey, and recognize your strength.

—See the Triumph

Chapter 19