Read Second Star for Free Online Page B

beam.
    Trying to ignore her acrobatics, I ask, “Is Pete here?”
    “Pete’s always around somewhere,” she says, cocking her head to the side. “Why are you looking for my boyfriend?”
    I can feel my spine curving as I sink into a slouch, like the wind has been knocked out of me. Boyfriend . Pete is Belle’s boyfriend . But he asked me to come back. He stood so close. He kissed me. He wouldn’t have kissed me if he had a girlfriend, right?
    “I’m sorry,” I say, trying to get the words out of my mouth as quickly as possible. I remember the way Pete and Belle stood beside each other on the beach; I thought they moved with the easy intimacy of a brother and a sister, but really it was the easy intimacy of a couple. I can’t tell whether the heat rising to my face is anger or shame.
    Belle smiles, her teeth almost glowing in the dusky light. “Goodbye, Wendy Darling,” she says as she turns to walk away.
    I don’t remember ever having told her my last name, but maybe I told Pete and he told her. What else did he tell her? Does she know I kissed him? I press my fingers into my lips. She must hate me. She has every right to.
    When Belle is gone, I ignore the looks from some of the other kids and rush back down the stairs, sliding my hand over the railing even when the stairs get so steep that it’s like running down a slide face-first. I can’t believe Pete kissed me with his girlfriend just a few yards away, waiting for him in the house at the top of the cliffs. Was she worried when he didn’t come home that night? Did she know he was with me? I wonder if she yelled at him when he walked through the door the next morning; I can’t picture it. Belle seems more the strong, silent type than the type who would scream and shout.
    I grip the railing to keep from falling then run across the beach and through the reeds. The tide is coming in, flooding the path and soaking my jeans, but this time, I don’t let it stop me. I want to get out of here before Pete sees me. I never want to see this place again.

9
    That night, I sleep restlessly in a bed that feels like it’s rising and falling with the waves. In my dreams, I’m sharing a surfboard with Pete, his hand steady on the small of my back, giving me the balance to stay on my feet. I wake up scolding my subconscious for thinking about him.
    It’s early. Nana is fast asleep at the foot of my bed, twitching her legs, having dreams of her own.
    I should try to go back to sleep, but I’m not tired. Actually, it feels as though my skin is buzzing, like I’ve just had a dozen cups of coffee, like I’ve been struck by an electric shock. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, stand, and walk into the hallway. Nana’s head pops up; she makes a human kind of sound, a little moan, complaining that I’ve woken her up so early.
    “Shhh,” I say to her as she hops off the bed and joins me in the hall. “It’s okay, girl.”
    My brothers’ room is directly across from my own, and I stare at their closed door for a split second before crossing the hall and turning the doorknob. I haven’t stepped foot inside their room since the day they disappeared.
    The room is surprisingly bright; I never realized that their windows face the sunrise. Other teenage boys would have complained that the light woke them too early; other teenage boys would have wanted to sleep late. But they liked to wake up hours before anyone else, always determined to get in a few waves before school. I inhale deeply, expecting to smell some remnant of John and Michael, but the air is clear. I guess time can erase anything.
    Nana hovers in the doorway, like even she knows what I’m ignoring, the unspoken rule laid down by my parents: we are not supposed to even look inside this room. It’s been left exactly as it was the day the boys left. The police searched it months ago, hunting for some clue to where my brothers went. They didn’t find anything.
    I step inside. Two twin beds, the same ones