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opportunity.”
    “I guess I better be careful what I ask for.” She bent down and scooped up a stack of papers. “But first, we might need to pick up these Spanish notes.”
    “And this basketball,” I added as I tossed it on the bed.
    “And  these  movie cases.” Mom started snapping them closed.
    “And this half-eaten frozen burrito.” I pulled a crusty plate out from under Jake’s bed.
    The sight made us both smile, and we spent the next hour and a half going through the garbage Jake had randomly tossed throughout the room. Mom and I smirked again when we came across the remains of a glass of milk now solidified into a very stinky yogurt.
    We reminisced as we came across pictures and awards, but stopped when we found a homemade comic book trapped behind Jake’s desk. This one was called
Strong Man and Cupcake Girl Save Elephantropolis,
and it boasted a wrinkled water stain near the long row of uneven staples holding it together. We both smiled at the childish illustrations—Lexie’s artistic talents had definitely improved over the years—and smiled again at the text on the second page: “Dedekatd to Jake.” Though there were only about eight squares of action spread between the next two pages, I remembered how hard she and I had worked on that comic, and how proud we were when we presented our gift to Jake.
    The mood lightened significantly while Mom and I read the corny dialogue. Then we opened Jake’s bedside table and saw a small can opener, the kind you’d use to pop open a bottle. A shadow crossed my mom’s face and she got quiet, like the air had been sucked from the room.
    I usually feel a huge sense of accomplishment when I help restore order to chaos, but seeing Jake’s room so clean only intensified his absence. I could tell my mom felt the same way, and though I desperately wanted to talk to Lexie, I stuck around until Dad got home so Mom wouldn’t have to be in the house alone.
    I did not, however, stick around long enough to see if he wanted to talk, since I couldn’t help but feel it was his fault Jake was gone. All I could think of was seeing Lexie, since I knew she would make everything okay.

7
    Confession
    I was counting on Lexie to restore the carefree freedom of the last day of school, but she was strangely quiet. I tried to cheer her up with a wild ride on the jet ski, but as we anchored by our island, I could tell something was bothering her. I wanted to find out what was wrong, but before I knew it, I was spilling every detail of the afternoon. She listened carefully and was so empathetic about Jake leaving that for a few minutes I just enjoyed the attention.
    Then I snapped out of it and remembered the real reason she was sorry to have him go—she was going to miss him as much as I was. She seemed so sad I did something I’d never been brave enough to do. I actually talked to her about my brother.
    “This has got to be especially hard for you,” I said.
    Lexie frowned slightly. “Why?”
    The blood rushed into my face, and I regretted bringing up the subject. I stammered, searching my brain for something else to talk about, but she wouldn’t let it go. “What do you mean it’s especially hard for me to have Jake leave?” she asked.
    “I mean, just since you’ve always, you know, had a crush on him.” Unable to look at her, I glanced at the deepening colors of the sky as the sun began its descent toward the sandy hills.
    For a minute Lexie didn’t say anything, but then she started to laugh. It was more of a giggle than a full-out laugh, but it made me self-conscious. “What?” I finally said. “What’s so funny?”
    “Nothing. I mean, it’s just—I’ve never had a crush on Jake.”
    My world shifted a little, and I wondered whether I’d heard her correctly. I started to ask about the cross-country meet last fall, and then another idea dawned on me. What if Lexie and Meri had been talking about Jake, not me? What if when Lexie said she really liked his