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what's wrong that you haven't let me meet her? How could you do this, Brett? Why?”
    He knew he'd made a tactical error. Heshould have told his mother about Shayla by now, but he'd been so caught up in winning Shayla, he had forgotten about most everything else. “She's not like other girls.”
    His mother blanched. “You're not—she's not—”
    Brett grasped his mother's meaning and felt embarrassed. “We're not doing anything wrong, Mom, if that's what you're asking. And I'm sorry if I've worried you.” He fidgeted under his mother's wittering glare. “Um—can we sit down?”
    They retreated to the sofa, where Brett struggled to gather his thoughts. “Remember when I asked Dr. Packtor about XP—-where people can't go out into the sun without getting burned?”
    “Yes, and you told me that there was a girl—” His mother stopped abruptly. “Is
that
the girl you're seeing? Why didn't you tell me? “
    “It's taken me some time to get her to date me,” he confessed, “I sort of had to wear her down.”
    His mother shook her head and rubbed her temples wearily. “You could have said somethingto me before now, son. You didn't have to sneak around. I would have understood.”
    “Maybe so, but it just seemed easier to keep it to myself. I didn't want anyone to know, just in case … you know … she rejected me. She was scared, Mom. Kids made fon of her when she was smaller. I—I know what it feels like to have people talking about you behind your back.” He squirmed. “You're probably thinking I just feel sorry for her, but that's not true. I like her, Mom. I really like her.”
    She studied him, her expression softening. He'd never mentioned liking a girl to his mother before now, or the sting of rejection he'd felt during the time he adjusted to chemo while still trying to fit in at school. He was afraid she'd start on some lecture, but she surprised him and said, “I want to meet her. I'll fix dinner for the three of us.”
    “I'll ask her,” Brett said. “Shayla's special, Mom. She doesn't deserve to have XP.”
    “Just like you didn't deserve to have leukemia,” his mother said. “Believe me, I know, Brett—life isn't fair.”

    The night Shayla came to dinner, Brett worked feverishly to make the cabin safe for her. Because the summer sun didn't set until after nine o'clock, lie didn't want her to risk exposure to damaging light. He hung sheets across windows, turned off lamps, and lit candles, His mother set the table with her finest dishes and placed candles in silver holders. Shayla drove her own car over because the windows were specially tinted. By the time she arrived, the savory smells of roast beef and potatoes filled a cabin turned into a safe haven for its guest.
    “Brett tells me you're taking courses at Boston College,” his mother said as the three of them ate together, “Do you have a major in mind?”
    “Night work,” Shayla said, then smiled, which invited Brett and his mother to smile too. “Maybe computer programming,” she added. “I can work from my home that way.”
    Listening to them gave Brett a massive case of nerves, but as the evening progressed, he saw that Shayla and his mother were getting on well, and he relaxed. His mother even surprised him when she told them she'd clean upand they could leave. Outside, Shayla said, “Your mother's nice.”
    “I guess so.”
    “I told my parents about you and they want to meet you.”
    Brett got nervous all over again. He'd liked it better when it had been just him and Shayla. “All right,” he said. “How about when I pick you up for the clambake?”
    On the day of the clambake, it was decided that Dooley and his friends would go early to swim and play on die beach, and that Brett and Shayla would show up after the sun went down. Brett arrived at Shayla's house to face her mother and father. Her father was a baseball fan, so Brett discovered they had plenty to talk about, but despite the ease of the visit, Brett saw