MICHAEL RACED DOWN THE DUNE behind the girls, so intent on staying steady in the deep, rust-colored sand that he didn’t look up or ahead as he followed their winding tracks around beach blankets, Frisbee players, coolers, sandcastles, and the lifeguard stand. They stopped just short of the surf. Michael stood next to Ann and stared in awe at the limitless expanse of blue sky and churning gray water spread out in front of him. His lungs and legs burned. He’d seen Lake Michigan plenty of times. The lake was just a puddle compared to the Atlantic. The ocean was as frightening as it was beautiful. He felt as if he were standing at the mouth of a massive and hungry living thing.

Poppy squealed with delight when a wave broke against her leg. She was always in her own world, daydreaming and doodling palm trees on her folders and the textbook covers she made out of old grocery bags and Scotch tape. She changed when she got near the water. It was as if he could see her snap into herself, become her own person.

“It’s even colder than I remembered.” Poppy’s smile was broad, her shoulders glistened, and the thick rope of her braid hung over one bare shoulder. He’d always been so preoccupied with Ann that he felt as if he was only now seeing Poppy. Her looks were more rugged and outdoorsy than Ann’s. Poppy didn’t seem like she’d just arrived at the beach; it was as if she’d been there all along. “Put your foot in, Michael.”

The girls watched Michael expectantly as he took in the rise, curl, and crash of waves against the shore. He couldn’t move. He was overwhelmed by both the power of the surf and the girls’ intense focus on him. He began to feel there was something pressingly selfish about their interest, as though they didn’t really care if he connected to Cape Cod; what they wanted was for him to recognize their attachment to the place.

“C’mon,” Poppy said in her dreamy voice, splashing the water like a dancer. “It’s amazing.”

“It’s cold at first,” Ann said, “but you’ll get used to it.”

He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t shake his fear that the Gordons could still change their mind about him. During the drive out, he was convinced they’d leave him stranded at a gas station or rest stop. He couldn’t believe they’d asked him to come along to this place Ed called “the outermost Cape.” “Outermost” was right: it seemed about as different and as far away as he could possibly get from Milwaukee.