She opened her eyes, but she was crying, trying to catch her breath, and I figured she’d been holding it to avoid breathing in the spray. Now she was forced to drink in the odorous air in big gulps. Looking down at her wounded arm, she let out another scream. It was ugly, a two-inch-wide band scraped raw along her forearm, dots of blood breaking through here and there.

“It’s okay,” I said, but she held her arm to her as if it were a fragile thing and let out a wail.

I knew I was not going to be able to persuade her to get back on her bike. The fog was thinning, and I tried to find a landmark to tell me how far we were from the house. There were woods on both sides of the road but I could see the opening to the blueberry lot a distance ahead of us.

“Get up, and we’ll walk our bikes home,” I said. “We’re not that far.”

She peered down the street, then shook her head. “I don’t want to touch my dumb bike,” she said.

Where was her bike? I looked around, finally spotting it several yards away from where she’d landed. She must have flown over those handlebars, and I felt sorry for her. She was lucky a scraped arm was all she’d suffered.

“Okay,” I said, “then we’ll leave the bikes here and walk home.”

Sniffling, she got slowly to her feet.

“You’re an old lady in a girl’s body,” I told her, helping her up. “Grandma has more energy than you.”

“Shut up,” she said.

We heard the sound of another vehicle on the road and Lucy gave me a look of alarm before running a few feet into the woods.

I turned around to see a red car heading toward us. “It’s only a car,” I said. Then I realized what car it was: Ned’s red Corvette convertible! “Hey!” I called to Lucy. “It’s Ned!”

Lucy came out of the woods and stood by my side, still cradling her arm. I waved as Ned stopped the car in front of me. Bruno Walker was in the passenger seat, and the radio poured “Cryin’ in the Rain” into the air all around us.

Bruno grinned at me. “Hey, good-lookin’,” he said, and I wasn’t certain if he was being serious or just teasing me, so I kept a half smile on my face which I figured would work either way.

“What’s going on, Jules?” Ned asked. I liked that he used Isabel’s nickname for me.

“Lucy crashed into the woods on her bike,” I said.

Ned turned off the engine and he and Bruno got out of the car. They were both tan and gorgeous, slender Ned with his softlooking blond hair and Bruno with his sexy black ducktail and muscular build. I didn’t think there were two better-looking, non-movie-star guys in the universe and I wished I was with one of my Westfield girlfriends instead of with my little sister.

“Are you okay, Lucy?” Ned asked.

Still sniffling a bit, she stuck her arm out for him to look at. He held it gently in his hands, studying the injury, and for a moment, I wished it had been me who had fallen off her bike.

“It’s not broken, is it?” he asked her, carefully moving her arm this way and that.

Lucy shook her head. “Just bleeding,” she said.

“Not much blood,” Ned stated the obvious. “Your mom just needs to clean it up and put a bandage on it.”

I stood right next to Ned, feigning my own interest in Lucy’s arm but really just reveling in the cigarette-and-Coppertone smell of him.

Bruno had found Lucy’s bike in the tangle of weeds and vines at the side of the road. He lifted it up over his head as if it were made of feathers and set it down on the road, studying the front wheel as he moved it back and forth. A cigarette hung from one corner of his mouth, and I could see why some of the girls thought he looked like Elvis Presley. His eyes had that hooded look to them, and his lips were thick and pouty.

“You fucked up your bike pretty good,” he said to Lucy.

“Hey!” Ned said sharply. “Cool the language.”

I was both shocked and thrilled by his use of the forbidden word. I watched as he carried the bike to the back of the car and opened the tiny trunk. It didn’t look like either of our bikes would fit in there, but he managed to get them both in partway, cushioning the Vette’s shiny red paint with beach towels at Ned’s request. The trunk would have to stay wide-open, but we were only going around the corner. He handed me the bag of things we’d bought at the little store.

“Well,” Ned looked at his car with its two bucket seats. “Lucy, you sit on Bruno’s lap, and Julie, I’ll share my seat with you.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! I couldn’t have dreamed up a better scenario. Ned sat far to the left of the driver’s seat, and I squeezed in next to him. My body was inescapably pressed against his. My legs were crammed into the passenger side along with Bruno’s and Lucy’s, but I was very comfortable.

Ned drove slowly so the bikes wouldn’t bounce around, and I wished we’d had farther to go.

“How’s that gorgeous older sister of yours?” Bruno asked me as we turned onto Shore Boulevard.

Why don’t you ask Ned? I wanted to say, but figured that wouldn’t be appreciated. Every time I saw Bruno at the beach, he said something to me about Izzy. He had a thing for her, that was clear, and I wondered if Ned had figured it out.

“She’s fine,” I said.

“She’s fine, all right.” Bruno laughed, holding his hands in front of his chest—as best he could with Lucy on his lap—and I realized he was alluding to Isabel’s breasts.

“Knock it off,” Ned said to him. Then he spoke to me. “Hey, Jules, I have something for you to give her.”

I wasn’t surprised when he reached down to the floor of the car and came up with the toy giraffe. He handed it to me, and I cradled it on my lap.

“What’s that?” Lucy asked. She reached for the giraffe with her uninjured arm, but I held the toy away from her.

“It’s for Isabel,” I said, and she withdrew her hand.

“Izzy and I appreciate your tight lips, Jules,” Ned said.

I twisted my neck to try to get a look at his face. The sun was a bright star in each lens of his sunglasses. I thought I would treasure that moment forever.

We pulled into the Chapmans’ driveway. I saw our car in our own driveway and knew that my mother and Isabel were home.

“You know,” I said to Ned, putting on the most grown-up voice I could manage. “If Bruno went with you, I think my mother would allow Isabel to go in your boat. Safety in numbers and all of that.” I’d heard my father use that term when he talked about Isabel going out with a crowd.

“Oh, yeah?” Ned exchanged a look with Bruno. Lucy walked across the yard, sliding her feet through the sand, holding her arm, already working up the tears she would show our mother.

I nodded. “Want me to ask?” I asked him.

“Would you?” he said. “If she can, you can send her over. Otherwise, come tell me yourself, okay?”

I nodded and tried not to look like a jerk as I walked carefully between the holly leaves that littered his yard.

In our living room, I found Isabel folding the clean laundry while my mother and grandmother clucked around Lucy and her arm. They painted it with Mercurochrome, which I knew had to sting like the devil, but to Lucy’s credit, she held her arm still and squeezed her eyes shut.

“Izzy,” I said, handing her the giraffe, which she quickly buried in the pile of clothes in the laundry basket. “Ned wants to know if you could go for a boat ride with him and Bruno.”

Isabel gave me a sharp warning look before turning back to the laundry.

“Bruno’s going, too,” I repeated.

My mother unwound a long piece of gauze from a box in the first-aid kit. She snipped it from the box with scissors, then looked over at us.

“I suppose that would be all right, Isabel,” she said. “Just a short ride, though. After you finish the laundry.”

“I can fold the laundry,” I said.

Isabel looked at me in astonishment. I had somehow, miraculously, won her a ride in the boat with Ned and was offering to take over her task, as well. I knew she wondered what I was up to, but she was so happy at the turn of events that she didn’t bother to ask me.

“Thanks,” she said, either to me or my mother, I was not sure which. Surreptitiously, she took the giraffe from the laundry basket and walked toward the porch. I knew once she was outside, she would break into a run.

I folded the laundry, burying my face in its clean smell as I tried to imagine what was happening in Ned’s yard. Izzy and Bruno and Ned would climb into his boat, and maybe something would change on that ride. Maybe she would notice Bruno’s handsomeness. He had certainly noticed her beauty. Maybe she’d realize that, compared to Bruno, Ned was a little dull.

I knew it was wrong to pray for small things, but I couldn’t help the prayer that ran through my head. Let Isabel forget about Ned and fall in love with Bruno. If that happened, then maybe Ned would realize what a wonderful girl I was. I knew he saw me as a kid and that if he were free, he would probably find some other girl his own age to date, but my fantasies ran rampant. I couldn’t bear that Isabel had him when I wanted him. He wasn’t perfect. He smoked cigarettes and I had the feeling he drank a bit too much when he was out with his friends, but maybe the love of a good woman—even if she was only twelve—could change him.

CHAPTER 31

Julie

There was not a single solitary sexual thought in my mind as I sat at my kitchen table stuffing giant pasta shells for the dinner I would serve Ethan. What had happened to my lusty yearning from the other day? It was gone. A fleeting hormonal aberration. I not only lacked desire, I didn’t care that I lacked it. It was almost a relief. I wouldn’t have to worry how I looked nude. My hips were bigger than they should be from too many days in front of the computer. My breasts seemed to hang a little lower every time I looked in the mirror. I didn’t have to worry about all that if I didn’t care about sex. But I was worried that I might have given Ethan the wrong idea during our last, faintly suggestive phone conversation.