So I said I was fine and chose to go on the field trip. If I went on this little excursion, I wouldn’t see Mom all day. That was good enough for me.

“Um, can Abby sit with Josie?” I ask Jenny.

“Of course,” Jenny answers. “We always love to hang out with Abby.”

“There’s going to be a volcano!” Abby exclaims. “But don’t worry; they’re not going to throw anybody to the dogs.”

“That’s good to know, sweetie,” says Jenny, laughing.

I mumble a thank-you, instruct Abby to stay with the Wongs, and flee farther back in the bus in search of Afton.

“Hey, Ada,” says a voice, and there is Nick Kelly again, staring up at me from beneath his shaggy hair in the same slightly worried way he looked at me yesterday. “Are you feeling better?”

“Oh, hi, Nick,” I say. “Yeah. I’m good.”

A lie. A lie.

“Good. You can sit here, if you want.” He gestures to the empty seat beside him.

“Thanks, but I’m sitting with my sister,” I say, and hurry past him, but when I get to the back of the bus, I find Afton already sitting with Kate Jacobi.

It’s for the best, I tell myself even though my feelings are kind of hurt that she didn’t save me a place. I probably should stay well away from Afton until I have this Mom-having-an-affair thing under wraps in my brain.

I throw myself down into an empty seat a couple rows in front of her and stuff my bag under the seat. Then I slump so I’m out of sight of everyone else. I try to force myself to relax. I gaze out the window into the hotel parking lot, where shuttles and minivans and taxis are zooming in and out like bees in a flower garden. Everyone so busy and centered on our own little worlds.

The engine for the bus suddenly roars to life.

“Aloha, everybody!” booms a voice. “My name is Kahoni, which means ‘the kiss,’ but don’t get any ideas, okay, unless you’re a really pretty lady, and then I guess I don’t mind. I’m going to be driving you today to some very special places on the Big Island. Are you ready to have some fun and learn about Hawaiian history and culture?”

There’s a chorus of weak yeses from all over the bus.

“Aw, you can do better than that,” says Kahoni, and everyone tries again, louder. “Okay then, let’s go!” he laughs, and the bus lurches forward.

We ride through the endless sea of desolate black rock for a couple hours as our driver pal Kahoni gives us the lowdown on Hawaiian history. Eventually we stop at a rest area where they let us out in a flat grassy park with picnic tables scattered around. They hand out bento boxes for lunch.