Tressa rolls her eyes. “Well, that’s real exciting. And what else do you do here?”

I open my mouth to say something to Brandy, but she jumps up before I can get it out and follows Tressa down to the beach.

The little voice warns me.

Chapter 8

A LIAR AND A THIEF

The next day, when I arrive at Seaside, Brandy and Tressa are heading to Sundae School, a fancy ice cream place. They ask me to go, so I find Grammy and ask if I can have some money.

“That place is too rich for my blood,” she says, never taking her eyes off the sink she is scrubbing. “You can get some out of our freezer for a fraction of the cost.”

“Please?”

She sighs. “There’s a five-dollar bill in my wallet. Although you know it won’t get you much there.”

“Thanks, Grammy,” I say, taking the money and running to find Brandy and Tressa. Hoping they haven’t left already.

Tressa stares at my feet. “Shoes?” she asks.

“I’m good without.”

Brandy laughs. “Delsie doesn’t believe in shoes.”

“Great. Like Tarzan. Good for you,” Tressa mumbles. “My cousin doesn’t wear shoes, either. She’s a year old.”

Brandy seems to be thinking about Tressa’s comment. So I give her a gentle shove. “Remember how I got you to give up shoes last summer? You bounced around the hot pavement like a ball in a pinball machine.”

“Yeah, because I’m normal,” Brandy says.

“Why would anyone wear shoes on the Cape? It’s like wearing a wet suit in the bathtub.”

“Yeah, Delsie.” Tressa laughs. “It’s just like that.”

I sigh.

When we finally get there, I swing open the door. I love the ice cream here, but my favorite part of the place is the player piano. For a quarter it will play all by itself.

“Excuse me, miss.” The shop’s manager has spotted me. “You’ll have to wait outside for your friends.”

I was hoping to get away with it, as the manager is usually busy. Today is unlucky.

“Oh,” I mumble.

Tressa is already in line, and Brandy rushes over. “What are you doing? C’mon,” she says, darting her eyes between me and Tressa.

“I can’t come in because I don’t have shoes. So . . . so, I guess I’ll wait outside.” I hand her the five-dollar bill. “Get me a small sweet cream with a boatload of jimmies. Chocolate.”

She half smiles. “Yeah, I know.”

I head back outside and watch them through the window, and I see exactly what I’m afraid to see. Brandy. Laughing like she’s with the best, most interesting friend in the world. She used to look at me that way.

I stare at my dirty feet. Then back up at my reflection. I don’t like what I see and wish I could go to a hairdresser instead of having Grammy cut my hair over the kitchen sink.

Then in the reflection I see something I don’t expect—Ronan, the boy from the beach. He is still wearing black jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt, although the sleeves are pushed up past his elbows. He is drinking a milkshake and doesn’t seem to bother breathing as he does.