Page 48

Alex yawns and stretches his arms out all slow and cute, like he’s a fairy-tale character waking up from an enchanted sleep, but then his eyes open and he jumps up at attention when he sees my brother.

“Um, hi, Wally.” His whole body braces as if he’s waiting to be punched. But I know that Wally doesn’t care like that, not anymore.

“Whatever. I won’t tell Mom and Dad,” Wally says, giving me a hard look. “But you two better be on deck ready to go. I’m not going to cover for you.”

With that, he turns and walks into the sliding doors, leaving all my questions about his nighttime wandering unanswered.

“Well, that went better than it could have,” Alex says.

I sigh, shake my head. “Yeah, I guess.”

“You know, you sleep with your arms crossed like a vampire,” Alex continues. “Like...” I turn to him, and he has his arms in an X across his chest, with his eyes closed and his tongue hanging out.

“No, I don’t!” I say, slapping his arms away.

“Uh, yes, you do.” He purses his lips and nods with his eyes wide.

“How did you see me sleeping? Wally woke us up!”

“I woke up at some point, when it was still dark. These drunk moms woke me up, woo-hoo-ing and twerking. I should have taken a video. It was something.”

I throw my hands up. “And you didn’t get me up? We should have gone back to our rooms! You trying to get me murdered by my dad? Or I take that back, you would be the one getting murdered.”

“I don’t know.” He looks a little bit chastened. “You looked... peaceful. It was nice.”

I feel my heart speed up, and I’m suddenly aware of what I must look like. My eyes are itchy, so my mascara and eyeliner are probably smeared everywhere. I can smell my own stanky dragon breath, and my dry skin is probably making all of yesterday’s CC cream flake off like I have some weird infectious disease.

“Yeah, well, I don’t look so peaceful anymore,” I say, gesturing to my face. “You know in movies, when girls be waking up all glowy and perfect, and it’s so fake—not that we’re, like, waking up together, but—”

He cuts me off. “Lenore, you look great.”

My heart beats even faster, and I can feel it all the way in my throat. I look down at the ground.

“Anyway, we better go get ready.” I gesture past the guardrail, where we can see the approaching port of Mykonos, with its bright white buildings peppered across the hills. “I don’t know what time it is, but it looks like we’re getting close.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Thank you,” I say, stealing a glance at him real quick before looking back out at the water. His curly bedhead does weird things to my stomach. “For last night. That was my best birthday in... a while.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Lenore. That’s what friends do.”

The parents don’t have some big itinerary planned for the day (much to Etta’s frustration). Instead our driver takes us over to the north side of Mykonos, past a tavern and a cute little church, dropping us off at a golden sand beach with sparkling turquoise water. On the plus side, it’s not crowded with loungers and umbrellas packed in tight for tourists, like the beaches we passed closer to the cruise ships. On the—well, I don’t want to say negative side, but definitelynakedside, apparently bathing suits are optional here.

“Oh! Oh my lord!” Mom says with wide eyes, hands flying to her mouth as a leathery-skinned man with things hanging that have no business hanging in public comes strutting by us.

I take that back. This is firmly in the negative zone.

Dad rushes to cover Etta’s eyes. “Maybe this is not the best choice for our beach day?”

Etta throws his hands off and crosses her arms. “Dad, this is no different than the statues and paintings we have seen so far on this trip. And I’ve read that America’s stance on nudity is quite puritanical compared to the rest of the world—”

“Yes, you’re a Puritan until you’re sixty-five!” Dad says, putting his aviator sunglasses over her eyes. “Lenore, you too! Eyes on the sand.”

“Oh, loosen up, Edward!” Dr. Lee says, laughing. “Maybe we should all join in. When in Greece!” She bumps Mr. Lee with her hip, and he chuckles along with her.

Alex’s whole body goes from brown to scarlet in a millisecond. “Mom, no. I’m pretty sure that’s child abuse.”

“Alex, you’re eighteen, not a child,” she says with a smirk. “And relax. I’m only kidding. Mostly.”