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kidding.”
    “Well, that sucks,” I said, surprised at how normal she sounded. “I was thinking maybe we could ride our bikes out to Bristol?” Bristol is a little seaside town with coffee shops and a cool antique store. Jules and I liked to look at the stacks of old photographs in back of the store.
    “Not today,” she said. “My whole family is here.”
    “Oh, right. I just thought, you know, it would be peaceful out there. Anyway, that reminds me, should I bring my bike to Nantucket?”
    “Actually, that’s what I was calling to tell you. You can’t come with us anymore.”
    “Oh,” I said, as I watched my face pale in the mirror. “Okay.”
    “It totally blows, but my dad said only family in the house this summer.”
    “Of course. I understand. Of course.” I sat on the closed toilet seat and hung my head. How could I be thinking of myself? I burned with shame. “I totally get it.”
    She sighed and added, “But you can get your babysitting job back with the Kings, right?”

Four
    THE FIRST TIME I THOUGHT of going to Nantucket by myself, I was about to pick up the phone and call Deirdre King, mother of Andrew. I’d already typed in her number on my phone and was staring at it on the screen. My lip curled. Why, I wondered, was I doing it? I hated that job. Last summer, Andrew was obsessed with the word boobies . He’d say “boobies,” then punch me in the boob. It really sucked. Especially when Mrs. King found it funny, which maybe it was if it wasn’t your boob. I didn’t want to play the straight man for Andrew King’s comedy act again. I hung up the phone. I won’t do it, I thought, falling back on my bed. I won’t.
    I started to think of other babysitting jobs, ones that provided housing, ones that I heard paid twenty bucks an hour or more. Ones on Nantucket.
    A little seed was planted.
    The second time I thought of going to Nantucket by myself, I was sitting on the front porch, texting with Jay. It was supposed to have been my night at Dad’s, but Alexi wasn’t having a good night, so none of us was having a good night. Polly had adopted him from an orphanage in the Ukraine when he was three years old, and he’d had a pretty rough time there, which I guess is why he sometimes had these fits. Alexi loved the Beatles, and that night, after the fifth time of listening to “Yellow Submarine,” I was going a little insane, so I changed the song. I put on James Taylor, one of Dad’s favorites, but it set Alexi off. He started rocking on the floor, kicking his heels and wailing, even after I’d switched it back. Polly had to make him feel better, which meant that Dad had to make Polly feel better. I slipped out the back door without even touching my grilled steak. Dad was too swept up in the chaos to convince me to stay. He just waved good-bye and blew me a kiss.
    At least it was peaceful at Mom’s, I thought as I read a text from Jay. He’d gotten a job as a lifeguard out there on Nantucket, at a beach called Surfside. I started thinking about my almost-kiss with him and the moment when he’d pulled me onto his lap. I was thinking about sitting in a lifeguard chair with him in my new plum-colored J. Crew bikini with a ruffle. I was thinking about kissing him in the sand.
    The seed burst from its husk and sprang green spindly roots.
    The third time I thought about going to Nantucket alone, I was at the Brown University Bookstore. I was looking for my summer reading books when I saw a T-shirt just like Nina’s. My heart cramped. I held my breath. I couldn’t be away from Jules all summer. The Claytons might need alone time now, but in a week or so Jules would want me there, she’d need me. I wouldn’t be in their house, so I wouldn’t be a burden, and they’d still have their privacy. But I’d be close by. Ready to pitch in. Ready to load the dishwasher or run to the store for milk. I’d be ready to whip out a board game when that famous Nantucket fog rolled in. I’d make silver