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Conflicting rumors spread for weeks, each one more ridiculous than the last. As she walked the school corridors, she couldn’t help picking up snatches of conversations, as if she were slowly turning a radio dial. “The speedometer was frozen at a hundred and twenty.…” “Prentiss was drag racing.…” “Sonny was the one driving, not Prentiss.…” “They were trying to outrun the cops.…” People simply refused to believe the truth: that some stupid teen with a drinking problem crashed his car and killed his sweet, innocent cousin in the process. No. They’d rather twist the details and make up scenarios, just for added shock value. It was revolting. And selfish.
    But then, Gabby was just as bad. As she went through the rest of the day and that week, stumbling from class to class, crying in the safety of a restroom stall or in the shower at home, she couldn’t help thinking what his death had cost her. She would never again kiss Sonny. She would never know how he’d really felt about her. And her potential new existence, her new specialness, would never, ever happen.
    She didn’t tell anyone what was wrong with her. There was no way she could explain it without its seeming foolish. Besides, her few stolen moments with Sonny were all she had of him. She wouldn’t share them.
    Although she’d always been somewhat aloof, Gabby quickly became even more of a loner, avoiding crowds and meetings and chatty gossips like Jana. She even pulled away from Mule for a while, certain he’d be able to divine that something was horribly amiss. Instead of morphing into abutterfly, as she’d hoped, she withdrew further into a protective cocoon.
    Gradually she came to live with her secret. The trick was to ignore it, to let it fall into her hidden depths like a stray coin or a discarded scrap of paper. Most days she didn’t even think about Sonny. But every now and then, the memories crept up on her without warning. Usually nights when she couldn’t power down her brain. Or times when the world around her seemed so fixated on love.
    “Wha-a-a-a-at!”
    The frogs again. It was as if they were doubting her, teasing her about holding on to some residual lovesickness. That, or they were still upset about the demise of Hoppy, their fellow amphibian.
    Enough thought. What she really needed was sleep. No math, no stress, no memories, no haunting by a faceless dream guy. Just rest. Then tomorrow she could start being a nicer person, an understanding sister, and a more attentive friend.
    “Wha-a-a-a-at!”

 
    “Daddy Daddy Daddy Daddy!”
    Daphne raced across the living room and threw her arms around her father’s neck, squeezing hard to let him know how much she had missed him and breathing in his familiar spicy aftershave.
    “There’s my baby girl.” He clutched her tightly and lifted her off the floor a couple of inches, swinging her back and forth. Then he set her down and put his rough hands on either side of her face.
“Que tan guapa,”
he said. “I’m going to put some guards around this house to keep the boys away.”
    “Don’t you dare!” Daphne laughed, feeling that familiar lifting sensation she got in her chest whenever he arrived, as if her heart was getting pumped up like a balloon.
    She was proud of her dad. Ernesto Rivera was probably the handsomest man in Central Texas. Tall and strong-looking. As a tiny girl she’d always felt so safe around him and made him tell her bedtime stories about rescuing her from monsters or aliens or costumed supervillains. He even lookeda little like Superman, with his thick, dark hair and wavy forelock. But he laughed and joked a lot more, and Daphne was very proud of the fact that she’d inherited his wide smile.
    She wished her mom had done more to deserve him. They had never really told the girls why they broke up, but Daphne could guess. She wasn’t stupid. Her mother was just too cold, too … dull. She only cared about things like bills and college and using