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mother to Vladimir Putin for a chance with you. Or else go back to Benjamin, not that I would wish that on Benjamin because he’s a good guy. Just forget about me, all right?”
    â€œNo,” Claire said.
    He bounded up the bleachers to stand over her, his big body blotting out the sun. “What is it? You think you have to take care of me, compensate because you killed my brother?”
    â€œI didn’t kill Wade,” Claire said softly. “We were all drunk. Any one of us could have been driving. If I hadn’t gotten behind the wheel, Wade would have. Then who would you blame?”
    Jake didn’t explode the way she expected. Instead he just laughed cruelly. “That’s not what you said when everyonethought Lucas had been driving. You said he deserved to go to Youth Authority for two years. And when he got out, you said he should be kicked off the island.”
    Claire cringed under his attack. She drew in her legs and hunched over, avoiding his gaze. “I know. I was wrong.”
    Jake laughed out loud. “That’s what is so great about you, Claire. You can just instantly change what you believe so that no matter what, you’re always somehow in the right. So long as you get what you want.”
    â€œI’ve just learned a few things, Jake. Maybe I’m smarter than I was.”
    â€œVery convenient.”
    â€œSo I’m a hypocrite. Call me what you want. I’m in love with you.”
    Jake took a step back in surprise. “In love with me?” He paused for a moment to compose his face into incredulity. “That’s a nice touch.”
    She met his eyes. “It’s true.”
    For a second he wavered. His expression softened. But then he steeled himself. “Even if it is, I don’t care.”
    â€œYes, you do,” Claire said.
    â€œI don’t need you to watch over me when I want to get drunk, Claire, and I don’t need you covering for me when I don’t do my homework. And I just plain don’t need you,” Jakesaid. He turned and walked away across the field.
    â€œYes, you do,” Claire said again, this time to his retreating back.
    Nina found the box in the storage room, a waterproof gray plastic tub with an airtight fitted top. She carried it up the stairs to her room and set it on the end of her bed.
    She made sure her door was closed, then located a cigarette and popped it in the corner of her mouth. The top of the box came off easily and she peered down at the massive jumble of photographs. These were all the shots that hadn’t made it into one of the family’s two big leather-bound photo albums. Those pictures had all been carefully chosen, but none showed what Nina wanted to see.
    She took a big handful of photos and spread them out on her bed, some color, some very old grainy black-and-whites with scalloped edges. Some weren’t photographs at all, really, but postcards from people she knew vaguely, from places she’d never been.
    Most of the pictures were of people she did know. She found several of her mother and father at the Grand Canyon, so young they almost looked like a pair of very uncool teenagers. Nina sifted through the photos, making a small pile of pictures of her mother, ranging in age from childhood to just before she died.It was strange, but the more she looked at the pictures, the less they reminded her of her own faded memories of her mother, and the more they reminded her of . . . someone else. Someone she couldn’t quite place.
    In pictures of her father alone, he always seemed very serious. In his army uniform, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, his creases like knife edges, his lieutenant’s bars just so. Or in a business suit, or even later, wearing a white shirt and slacks, his casual look. It always looked like the photo was being taken against his will. Only when he was in a picture with Nina’s mother did he smile and appear to be having