"I meant the ladies," Gary says.

"Typical," Matty mumbles.

"What do you say, Kaitlin?" Ava asks. "One picture?"

"Make it two," I tell her, looking at my brother. "As long as one includes Matty."

We're in the middle of posing for the second shot -- which is more like the twenty-second since Gary shoots so fast -- when I hear a familiar voice.

"Kaitlin? Matty? Where are you?" It's Mom and she doesn't sound happy. Calou must hear her too because he starts to growl again. I look around. My parents aren't on the beach boardwalk, but they must be close by.

"We should go." I grab Matty's arm roughly. "It was good seeing you guys."

"What are you doing later? We're having a little party at my cabana," Ava says, oblivious to the yelling coming from the bushes. Any minute Mom and Dad are going to push through those palms and come face-to-face with us.

"Thanks," I say hurriedly, "but I have some studying to do. My SATs are in another month and I'm so behind." My personal assistant, Nadine, who is very pro-education, bought me these practice books and I've been lugging them to the beach every day. Even so, how are you supposed to memorize thousands of words for one test?

"Nerd," Matty mutters under his breath.

But Lauren and Ava don't look offended. Lauren looks sympathetic. "That's smart. I have my GEDs next month and I haven't even opened a textbook yet."

"We'll take a rain check." Ava smiles. "Maybe we can meet up in L.A.?"

"That sounds good," I say distractedly as my parents' voices -- and Calou's barking -- grow louder.

Ava, Lauren, and Gary make their exit just in time. Two seconds later, Mom and Dad emerge between two palm trees and step onto the boardwalk. Mom's honey-highlighted hair is hidden under a wide-brimmed straw hat, and her beach cover-up conceals her beautiful, size-four Prada bathing suit. She's wearing oversized black Gucci shades, but if I could see her eyebrows, I know they'd be raised in annoyance. Dad towers over her in a Tommy Bahama shirt, navy Calvin Klein swim trunks and a frown so sullen I'm afraid it's been tattooed to his face.

"Your father and I have been looking everywhere for you two!" Mom points a pink manicured finger in our direction. "Are you trying to kill me before I turn forty?"

"Aren't you forty-two?" Matty asks. I elbow him in the ribs. "OUCH!"

"We were just taking a tour around the island with Pierre," I tell her in my best sweet-as-pie Sam voice. "We should have told you where we were going."

"Don't actor us, Kaitlin," Mom says coolly. "We saw your limited-edition Dolce & Gabbana bikini flying over the island when your father and I were coming back from our scuba lesson."

Oops.

"How did you and Matt get past the waiver?" Dad wants to know.

Matty and I look at each other guiltily. Then Rodney coughs, which makes Mom give him the evil eye as he's gathering up our swim bags. We silently begin the short walk back to our golf cart, which will take us back to The Residence, the private villa where we're staying. The Residence is a five-bedroom mansion with two three-bedroom villas that is about a seven-minute buggy ride from the main Parrot Cay resort. The place has a full kitchen with butler service, an indoor and outdoor dining area, a media room with a plasma TV and DVD player, and a deck with a heated swimming pool and beachfront access. Anyone can stay at the world-renowned resort, but it's usually Hollywood folk and computer geeks with cash to burn that ante up the $16,500 a night price tag. Which leads me to the first of many new secrets I want to spill.