Second Star

11

The road leads to Pete’s driveway. Technically, it leads to the stairs, but the stairs up the cliffs snake up behind Pete’s house, so I find myself parking just outside his driveway. I could have pulled all the way into the garage; the door is wide open and the room is empty, the complete opposite of the house I just left behind.

I consider knocking on Pete’s door. Maybe he can help me. I shake my head, get out of my car, and head for the stairs, climbing down to the beach, bringing my notebook with the photo from my brothers’ room with me.

Once on the beach I can see that there’s no denying it: the photo is an exact match. Standing on the beach, in front of the wooden stairs, I hold up the photo. I compare the stairs in the picture to the stairs I’ve just descended. They’re identical. My brothers were here.

“Whatcha looking at?” says a voice I already recognize. I spin around and see Pete, soaking wet, emerging from the ocean, his board balanced on top of his head. He grins at me; he seems actually excited to see me. I guess Belle didn’t tell him that I stopped by the other night, that I know all about them.

I slip the picture back into the pages of my notebook. “Nothing important,” I say carefully.

“Want to head out?” Pete asks, gesturing toward the water. “The waves are amazing today.”

I look out at the ocean. The waves do look amazing; perfect, just like my brothers said. My heart starts to pound, adrenaline swirls around my belly. I do want to head out there. Badly. But I can’t. Not now. Not with Pete. Not after he lied to me. And not when I finally know where to start the search for John and Michael.

“I didn’t come back here to see you, Pete.”

Pete’s grin vanishes.

“I know you lied to me,” I add.

Shock creeps up his face like a rash. It’s strange to see him looking so rattled, this boy who seems so constantly at ease.

“Wendy, I can explain.”

“Explain what? Belle already told me.”

“Belle told you?” He sounds genuinely panicked.

“Why did you kiss me the other night when you have a girlfriend?”

Pete’s face falls. He hesitates for a split second before he says, “I didn’t—”

“Don’t try to deny it.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re a liar, Pete.” I spit the word out like it tastes sour.

“I didn’t lie.”

“Seriously?” Can he really still be trying to deny it?

“I mean—I’m sorry. I can explain about Belle.” He steps closer to me, shadows darkening the planes of his face in the late afternoon sun. He reaches out and takes my hand in his. I try to ignore the electric shock that thrums through my body at his touch. “Please let me explain.”

I wrench my hand away. “I don’t feel like listening to any apologies right now.”

“I’m not sorry,” Pete says.

“What?”

“I’m not sorry I did it. Things between Belle and me—they’re complicated, but the truth is, we were together for all the wrong reasons.”

I press my hands together, trying to rub away the memory of his touch. “Were together?”

Pete nods. “Yeah. I broke up with her.”

I swallow. “Look, I don’t want to be a home wrecker…”

Pete smiles, and suddenly I’m furious.

“Is this just some kind of joke to you? Am I a joke?”

“Of course not,” Pete says quickly. “It’s just funny to think of you as a home wrecker. You probably have a nicer home than any of us.”

I don’t say anything.

Pete shakes his head. “Look. You’re not breaking up anything. Things went wrong with me and Belle a long time ago. But maybe it took meeting you for me to finally face it.”

I take a deep breath, trying to ignore the warmth that creeps up from my belly at his words. “It doesn’t matter,” I say softly. “You’re not the reason I came back here.”

“Why did you come back here?”

“My brothers.”

Pete shakes his head. “Wendy, I told you—”

“I know, I know. You don’t know them. But they were here.”

“How do you know that?”

“I found a picture of Kensington in their room,” I say proudly. “Perfect waves. They surfed this beach.”

“Just because they were here once doesn’t mean—”

I cut him off. “Someone here might remember them.”

I think he’s about to contradict me, but instead he says, “Okay. Let me help you.”

I’m surprised by his offer, but despite everything I’m not about to turn it down, either. After all, he’s the only person I know in Kensington, and I have to start somewhere. “How can you help?”

“Well, for starters, I can give you a place to stay here in Kensington.”

“What, at your house?”

“Were you planning on camping out down here at the beach?”

I shake my head, but the truth is, I haven’t planned much of anything at all.

Pete smiles when he realizes I’m considering it. “There’s plenty of room,” he says, heading in the direction of the stairs. I can’t think of a better idea, so I follow him.

“Just one thing, Wendy,” Pete says.

“What’s that?”

“We’ll have to make sure it’s cool with everyone.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll see.”

On top of the cliffs, I get in my car, and this time I drive right into Pete’s driveway. He lifts my duffel bag from the backseat, where it’s wedged beneath John’s and Michael’s surfboards.

In Pete’s living room, sitting on a beat-up couch, are three boys I recognize from the bonfire my first night here, their hair soaked from the sea, surfboards strewn on the floor around them. Perched on top of the kitchen counter off to the side of the room is Belle, her board lying flat beside her. It’s at least twice as tall as she is.

Pete and I have barely stepped inside the front door when Belle says, “What’s she doing here?” The other boys look from Belle to Pete to me, waiting for an explanation.

Before Pete can say a word, I begin speaking.

“I’m Wendy,” I say, avoiding the angry look in Belle’s steely gray eyes. “I’m— I’m just looking for a place to crash.” I haven’t forgotten what Pete told me the day we met: his friends won’t exactly warm to me if I show up and start peppering them with questions. Maybe if they know me first, if they think I’m here for my own reasons, they’ll begin to trust me.

“Why?” Belle says. “You look like you’ve got a nice plush home to crash in somewhere.”

I nod. “I do. My parents’ house down the coast. But I just can’t take being around them right now. It’s been a really rough year at home. My parents—they’re in a bad place, and I’m…” I pause. “I am, too, I guess. I just needed to come somewhere a little bit…” I bite my lip, looking out the window at the setting sun. “To get away, I guess.”

I take a deep breath, before I add, “And I want to learn to surf.”

The three boys glance at one another, then at Belle. Finally, one of them asks, “Why do you want to learn to surf?”

I smile. “Because I took a wave the other day, and now it’s all I can think about. I even dreamed about it.”

The boy breaks out in a grin. “I’m Hughie,” he says.

“Nice to meet you, Hughie,” I answer.

Beside me, Pete speaks up. “Listen, guys, I think we should let her stay.”

“Of course you do,” Belle mutters.

“It’s not like that,” Pete says, and much to my surprise, Belle stays quiet. “We all came to Kensie because we needed to get away from something. Or find something.”

Across the room, the boys are shrugging as they get up from the couch to welcome me. I look at Pete, smiling.

“Whatever, man,” says a boy whose name I’ll later learn is Matt. “As long as she doesn’t take my room.”

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” I say quickly.

Pete shakes his head. “No need,” he says, smiling. “Like I said, we’ve got plenty of room.”