But what came out was “What . . . what about summer swim team?”

Jeremy let out a little laugh as he ran his fingers over the top of his short hair. “I think the team will manage without me.”

“Maybe,” Mia said in her loud new lacrosse-girl voice. “But who will judge our amazing pool handstand competitions and order too many fries at the snack bar so we can steal the extras?”

“Those aren’t extras!” Jeremy protested.

Annabelle made herself laugh along with them, but the sound came out shrill, like the bark of those bobbing seals who wanted their turn on the rocks.

Jeremy stood and brushed the sand off his legs, careful to step far enough away that it didn’t hit Annabelle and Mia. “Wanna swim?”

Mia flopped back on her towel and picked up her phone. “You guys go. I need to text Reagan back.”

Reagan was one of Mia’s lacrosse friends who had just finished eighth grade. She was the loudest girl on the whole team, and she cursed and made fun of people in a way that she pretended was silly but always felt mean. Annabelle hadn’t been that sorry to see her go back to Connecticut.

“She’s super bored at home,” Mia said. “I’m telling her she should visit so we can give her the true Gray Island experience!”

The true Gray Island experience. Like Mia had given Annabelle after they met at an Academy welcome event before sixth grade. Since Mia had come to Gray Island every summer for years, she’d already known that you could watch movies on the beach on Thursday nights in August, and that the Creamery’s cookies were half price after five, and that the burger shack by the lighthouse had the best fish and chips and the best sunset views. She’d made it seem like having Annabelle with her made all of her favorite summer things even more fun. But maybe now, having Annabelle with her wasn’t enough anymore.

Annabelle squeezed the pink quartz rock again—harder this time—before she buried it in the sand. Jeremy held a hand out to help her up, but she didn’t take it. She pushed herself off the ground, shed her shorts, and bolted for the ocean, fighting the pull of the sand with every step.

Jeremy had almost caught up by the time the sand turned cool and mushy at the edge of the water, but she didn’t stop. He liked to ease in a little at a time, and she liked to get in fast. She kept running, splashing cold, salty water up her arms and legs. Then she saw a big wave coming right at her, so she dove under and stayed there, beneath the surface, until it crested and rolled in to shore.

That was the thing about the ocean, even when it was rough: Even the most powerful waves passed if you stayed under for long enough, and Annabelle could hold her breath for ages thanks to swimming.