Read Wish I Might for Free Online

I check my messages. Still no JFK. I text him again and wait for a reply. I put my phone by my pillow so I’ll be sure to hear when he responds.
Have you forgotten me already?
    I close my eyes.
    Soon today’s recap of my life movie begins playing in my mind: Will Havisham’s startling claim, Salty Dog’s betrayal, the little tourist girl on the bluff, kissing JFK good-bye, Jimmy of the Gummy Worms, Tina and Ruby waving from the boat, the eviction notice at the Oceanview Inn.
Where are you, Mariel?
    And what was that in the ocean today? Just what did that little girl see?

CHAPTER 9
American Hospitality
    Little drops of water,
Little drops of sand,
Make the mighty ocean
And the pleasant land.
    — Julia Fletcher Carney
    I didn’t sleep well at all last night, but I wake to the aroma of something delicious baking downstairs. Rosie is making the breakfast sweet treats—scones and breads and muffins—and that puts a smile on my face.
    I check the clock. Five A.M. I might still catch the sunrise.
    I throw on some clothes, head downstairs, lift my bike from the rack, and I’m off. This morning, I head to Sandy Beach. That way I can walk up to Popponesset, a good mile or so beach walk, and end out on the Spit, where Will’s boat should be. It’s way too early for Tina and Ruby to be nosing about. They don’t get up until noon. They need their beauty sleep.
    It’s cool this morning, refreshing. I take a good, deep breath in. The sky is a gorgeous salmon color with ribbons of pink and purple.
    When I reach the beach stairs, I scan the horizon and lucky me,
thank you,
just this very moment the sun is rising out of the blue. A brand-new day. That small fireball is rising at a fast clip, as if some netherworld creature gave it a good toss-up this morning.
    Netherworld creature? I laugh.
Oh, Willa, you are so dramatic.
Where did that come from? Too much thinking about mermaids, that’s where.
    “Mermaids,” I say aloud. “Give me a break.”
    Giggling. Someone is giggling.
    I turn and look around me, up and down the beach.
    I’m alone. No one in sight.
    I walk faster.
Silly Willa, your mind’s playing tricks on you.
    Giggling.
    There it is again. I stop and swirl around. I could swear I hear giggling. Maybe it’s that little tourist girl, the mermaid spotter, hiding so I won’t see her.
    Splat, swoosh, splash.
Sounds out in the water now. I turn and look. Nothing.
    Giggling. I swing back to the beach.
    Splash.
I look to the sea. A few droplets of water spray across my face.
    I shiver. This is crazy. I set off at a run.
    After a bit, I see there are people up ahead of me on the beach. As I get closer and realize who they are, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
    You’ve got to be kidding me.
    My possible brother Will is sitting cross-legged in the center of the pretty pink poshy quilt I recognize from Tina’s princess bedroom. Salty Dog is sitting next to the king, chowing down on something tasty, probably a designer dog treat from Ruby’s No Mutts About It. Furry traitor.
    Tina is sitting on one side of Will. She takes something out of a beach pack, unwraps it, and hands it to Will. A fried-egg sandwich, it looks like.
    Ruby is sitting on Will’s other side. She lifts what looks like a muffin out of a magazine-perfect old-fashioned wicker picnic basket, and when Will’s done chewing a bite of his sandwich, she offers him some.
    Will is smiling like the Cheshire Cat from
Alice in Wonderland
—no, better yet, that comic-strip Garfield cat, happiest when he’s eating.
    Salty Dog looks up and sees me. He lowers his bigbrown eyes shamefully and turns back to his treat. My heart sinks.
    “What are you doing here?” I demand, looking at Tina and then at Ruby.
    “Oh, hi, Willa,” Tina says. “Gosh, you scared me, sneaking up on us like a ghost. I made breakfast for your brother.”
    “Me, too,” Ruby says. “I baked.”
    I sneer at Ruby like she’s that slimy black stuff you devein from a shrimp. “Since