Chapter One
D E P A R T U RE
“Do you have your passport?”
“Yes.”
“What about your neckpillow?”
“Yes.”
“What about your sunscreen? Honey, you know how youburn…”
I sigh. “For the thousandth time,yes. I have everything. Ipromise.”
“Whatabout—”
I cut off Mom’s next question by inflating my cheeks and unleashing a series of rapid whooshing noises as my arms rotate around my head in my best impression of chopper blades. The family of four unloading their station wagon a few feet away stare at me perplexed, but Mom just shakes her head, all too familiar with myantics.
“Yes, yes, I get it. I’m being an unbearablehelicopter parent.No need for sound effects,Violet.”
I cease whooshing and shoot a grin at her. She doesn’t return the gesture. Instead, her face wrinkles into a familiar mask of concern — the same one she’s been wearing for the past two weeks, since I broke the news of this trip. “Honey…”
I bracemyself.
“Are you sure you want to do this? It’s not too late to back out, youknow.”
“Mom!”
She holds her hands up in defense. “Okay! Okay. Justchecking.”
“You’vecheckedabout a zillion timesalready.”
“Well, you could’ve changed yourmind.”
“Between now and the last time you asked, approximately twenty minutesago?”
“You’re seventeen. You change your mind every twentyseconds.”
“Way to perpetuate a flagrant, reductive stereotype about teenagers,mother.”
Her eyebrows lift in amusement. “Flagrant? Reductive? Where was this vocabulary when you torpedoed your SATs lastyear?”
I roll my eyes. “Now I’mdefinitelygetting on theplane.”
“Honey…”
“Mom! Stop. It’s only three months. You’ll barely have time to missme.”
“But then you’re straight off to college in the fall.” Mom’s bright green eyes — twins of my own — gloss over with tears, and suddenly there’s a catch in her voice. “I just thought… I guess I thought we’d have one last summer together before everything changed. I wasn’t planning to lose you sosoon.”
“Careful, Mom, you lay on that guilt any thicker and I’llsuffocate.”
Her forehead crinkles. “I’m sorry. You know I’m proud of you for taking on this new opportunity. But… the house will be awfully quiet withoutyou.”
“After all the yelling you’ve done over the years about me blaring loud music, I’d think that would be a sellingpoint.”
She forces a laugh, but I can tell she’s barely keeping it together. In an unfortunate show of solidarity, my own throat begins to clog with emotion. I blink rapidly to keep tears at bay. Clearing my throat has littleeffect.