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I said, thinking. “Julianna—we call her Jules—is really sweet. She has an older sister who gives her clothesand stuff, so she’s into fashion. Makayla’s an incredible swimmer, and she plays the flute, and I think she’s going to be president one day. Marley’s an amazing artist.”
    â€œSounds like a great bunch.” Aunt Shelby pushed Brunhilda off her lap. “And which one are you?”
    â€œMe?”
    â€œIn the group. What’s your identity?”
    I thought for a few seconds. Maybe it sounds weird, but I’d never thought of myself as the X in the group, or the Y person. “I’m the nice one, I guess.”
    Aunt Shelby studied me. “What does that mean, exactly?” she asked sharply.
    â€œI’m the one everybody trusts with secrets. I’m a good listener. I stop fights. And I never fight with anyone.”
    â€œHuh,” Aunt Shelby said, as if she’d never heard the concept of “nice” before. “So why aren’t you with these friends for the summer, if you never fight?”
    I shook my head. I knew this was my chance to tell my aunt everything—about camp, and undressing in the cabin, and how Abi just got her “pd,” leaving only Marley and me. But right then I couldn’t.
    So I said, “It’s a little complicated.”
    â€œIn other words, you’re fighting.” She picked up a stringy piece of mozzarella with her fingers, watched it stretch, then ate it.
    â€œWe aren’t,” I protested. “My friends are all awesome. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”
    â€œYeah? Well, if that’s true, you’re lucky. I know I didn’t feel that way when I was twelve. And you’re making friends here on the beach?”
    I sipped some water. “I’m mostly collecting shells and stuff. And reading.”
    â€œAll day? No social interaction at all ?”
    The truth was: Yes, Aunt Shelby. If you don’t count Tanner and the Two Bikinis, I’m having no social interaction at all. But if I told her that, she’d probably force me to come back to the store to witness her selling powdered unicorn horns, or whatever stuff she kept in those lined-up jars.
    â€œWell, I met a boy,” I admitted. “Once. He isn’t a friend or anything—”
    Her eyes widened. “Yeah? What’s his name?”
    â€œI don’t remember. Tanner, I think.”
    â€œOh, sure, Tanner Clayborne. Nice kid. He’ll be a freshman at the local high school. His mom’s a steady customer.”
    â€œOf yours?”
    â€œDon’t look so shocked, Lia. There are plenty of women around here who rely on my expertise. And in fact, Caroline Clayborne’s become a good friend.” Aunt Shelby stood up from the table to put her plate in the sink. “But I’ve been wondering something, niecelet. If you’re at thebeach every day, how come I never see you washing out any bathing suits?”
    I felt my cheeks burn. “I just wear regular clothes to the beach.”
    â€œYou mean those jeans? You didn’t bring any suits from home?”
    â€œNo, I did, but they’re all . . .” I couldn’t finish the sentence. The problem wasn’t the suits. It was how I looked in them. How I felt in them.
    I chewed my thumb cuticle.
    â€œHey,” Aunt Shelby said brightly, in a “girl talk” sort of voice. “Would you like to go shopping together? Not even just for bathing suits. For things maybe your dad doesn’t know how to buy you. Like the right kind of underwear.”
    â€œI don’t need any new underwear.”
    â€œSure you do! And I know this great place two towns over, Winnie’s Intimates. Winnie’s actually a customer of mine, and also a close friend. She has a schnauzer.”
    Oh sure, I’ll buy a bra from her, since she has a schnauzer.
    â€œNo, thank you,” I