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beach, or the seals, or the shells, or even the sea glass I’d slipped into my jeans pocket. Instead she asked me about my book, my friends at home, who I was hanging out with in Benchley.
    I thought it was a little odd but not creepy. Even so, I tried to keep away from her as much as I could. There weren’t a whole lot of other people on the beach, so the ones who showed up every day, like Yazmin, were hard to avoid.
    It was an okay summer, really. But I was lonely, and also a teeny bit bored.
    Although three major things happened. The first was that Aunt Shelby took me bra shopping. Or to be precise: She tricked me into going, since she knew exactly how I felt on that subject.
    One Sunday morning in early August she announcedthat she “needed blueberry pancakes”—not any kind, but the specific ones they made at the Hummingbird Café two towns over, in Wheatly. And she insisted I needed some too, even though I’d already had waffles for breakfast.
    We drove there in the pickup truck. Just as we were pulling into the small parking lot behind the Hummingbird Café, a woman with a small gray dog came running over to us, waving. Her hair was puffy in an eighties sort of way, and she wore a leopard-print top with a too-deep V-neck.
    â€œPerfect timing,” she told Aunt Shelby. “I was just taking Mothball out to do his business.”
    â€œNo rush. This is Lia.” Aunt Shelby turned to me, smiling. “Lia, this is Winnie, my friend who owns the bra store.”
    â€œI sell intimates, not just bras,” Winnie corrected her. “Panties, shapewear, slips, camis, hosiery—”
    A truck roared by, and now she was shouting.
    â€œâ€”and I’m having my big August sale now, so everything is forty percent off. So that’s perfect timing too!”
    She was beaming at me. So was Aunt Shelby.
    I stared at them both.
    â€œWait,” I said. “I thought—”
    â€œAnd afterward we can go have pancakes.” Aunt Shelby patted my knee. “Winnie isn’t usually open on Sundays. She’s doing it as a special favor. Isn’t that sweet of her?”
    I refused to answer.
    We waited for Mothball to finish his “business,” and then Winnie led us around the corner to her store. I was furious at my aunt for tricking me like this, but at least we’d be the only customers, I told myself. At least my humiliation would be semiprivate.
    â€œAll right, then, chickpea,” Winnie said, waving me over to a three-way mirror. “Don’t look so scared. I don’t bite. Tape measure time!”
    â€œCan I please use the bathroom first?” I begged.
    â€œSixty seconds,” Aunt Shelby replied, pointing to her watch. “Hurry.”
    I don’t know how long I was in there, but I took longer than sixty seconds, on purpose. When I came out, I could hear Shelby saying the words “cell phone” and “imbecile.” As soon as they noticed me, they flashed big fake grins.
    â€œAnd here she is, Princess Lia,” Winnie exclaimed.
    â€œYou mean Leia, if that’s a Star Wars reference,” I muttered.
    â€œOh? It’s spelled different?” Before I could answer, Winnie wound the tape measure around my chest. “Because I’m hopeless at spelling. Fortunately, in my line of work, I need just a few—stand still, chickpea—letters: A , B , C , D . Although one day last month a new customer walked in, and I swear, Shel, she was a size G. I had to place an extra-special order.” Winnie scribbled something on aPost-it. “You’re like a skinny little bird, aren’t you, Lia?”
    â€œShe eats like a horse,” Aunt Shelby said, as if I weren’t standing right there.
    â€œAnd I do eat like a bird, and just look at me!” Winnie giggled. “Why don’t you take the fitting room, Lia, and get yourself undressed. I’ll be just a mo.”
    â€œMo?” I said