Selena answered. “Sorry, Moonbeam. Kayla isn’t here.”
“Really? You volunteer that right away?” If Selena had been covering for her, she would have instantly failed.
“Kayla! How did Operation Maya go?”
“Badly. And we’re not calling it that.”
“Operation Tikal? The Great Stone Quest?”
“Selena. Stop.” She noticed she was squeezing the phone so hard that her knuckles were white bulges. She loosened her grip and tried to force a smile at Moonbeam, who was waiting between a stack of books and a basket of amulets. She felt as if she were grimacing instead and looked away. With luck, Moonbeam would think she’d merely had a bad date. Without luck … Moonbeam couldn’t guess the truth, could she? She’d known that time when Kayla had sneaked out for a party on the beach. And another time when she’d failed a geography test and tried to hide it. But on the flip side, Moonbeam hadn’t caught on about Kayla’s extracurricular activities with the jewelry stores and ATMs on State Street. “I need you to come over and save my phone. I … sort of dropped it, and it has a photo on it that I really, really want to save.”
“Tell me you didn’t take any naked pictures of anyone.”
“Selena. Please. Remember when you dropped your phone into the ocean and you said you found a miracle-working phone guy? I need a miracle. Come on, please. Best Friend Code.” She hadn’t said those words since she was about eleven. They’d sworn a blood oath to each other after school one day under Stearns Wharf, to always help when the code was called, not unlike Batman with the Bat Signal. Selena mentioned it all the time, but Kayla quit calling the code pretty much the same time she discovered mascara and hair dye, leaving it behind with other childhood things. Invoking it would get Selena’s attention now.
“Seriously? Fine.”
Kayla heard a sigh, a car door slam, and an engine purr to life, then a click as the phone shut off. She put down the house phone and then laid her poor lifeless phone gently on the kitchen counter.
In the middle of the cottage, Moonbeam paced in tight circles. She was working herself up to say something, Kayla could tell. Kayla cast around for an exit strategy. She couldn’t leave; she was stuck here until Selena came. Maybe she could duck into the shower?
Moonbeam stopped and faced her. “Kayla, this boy … If he endangers you, then he’s not serving his purpose. As much as I want to approve—”
“You do?” Kayla blinked at her. She’d thoroughly expected Moonbeam to forbid her seeing him again. She’d been positive that Moonbeam had already started construction on the beachside equivalent of Rapunzel’s tower. It would be guarded by a fleet of garden gnomes.
“Yes, of course. Having a boyfriend will tie you closer to this place. It will help make you part of the community and the scenery, which will make you safer.”
Kayla felt her mouth drop open. She didn’t know what to say. So it wasn’t about whether or not Kayla was happy; it was about hiding from her father. Everything was. “Moonbeam, he didn’t … I don’t … I … I need to shower.”
Scooting into the bathroom, Kayla locked the door. Was there anything in her life untouched by fear of her father? She stripped off her clothes and dropped them to the floor. They set off a plume of dust when they landed. She turned the water on as hot as she could stand and tried to scrub away every speck of dust and every bruise. Not everything was about Dad. She was in the middle of a crisis that was happening right now, not eight years ago, and her life was in enough danger without the presence of an old bogeyman. Those rocks could have crushed her. She could have fallen down the stairs and cracked her head open. And all her “special power” couldn’t have done a damn thing about it. She couldn’t even hang on to one measly backpack.
When she finished, her skin felt tenderized. She’d made about twelve thousand mistakes today. So much for her supposed superhero status. She dried herself and dressed in clean clothes, transferring all the contents of her pockets, except her poor phone, which still lay on the counter. If she couldn’t fix that phone, then she was useless. Worse than useless, because she’d led the enemy right to the parchment. He never would have found it if not for her. Instead of saving the day and Daniel’s mother, she’d made everything worse.
Coming out of the bathroom, she blow-dried her hair by the kitchen sink, keeping the dryer blowing long after her hair was crispy so that she wouldn’t have to talk. Beside her, at the table, Moonbeam organized a stack of coupons for the next supermarket run, though Kayla thought she wasn’t actually looking at them. She switched off the blow-dryer only when Selena breezed through the door.
“So … how was the date?” Selena asked in her perkiest voice.
“She came home filthy and bruised,” Moonbeam answered for her. “If I were a good mother, I’d forbid her from ever seeing that Daniel again.”
Selena waved her hand in the air dismissively. “If you were a typical mother, you would. But since you’re a good mother, you understand that making him forbidden would only increase the odds that Kayla will sneak out and see him for the pleasure of being her own person. As it is, by approving of him, you’ve actually shortened his shelf life.” Sailing across the cottage, Selena scooped up the lifeless phone and pushed the buttons. “Ooh, yep, you broke it.”
“Can your guy fix it?” Kayla asked.
Selena pursed her lips. “Yeah, see, here’s the problem. I kind of alienated him a bit.”
“How do you alienate someone ‘a bit’?” As Selena opened her mouth to reply, Kayla interrupted. “Wait, don’t answer that. I don’t care. I just need it fixed.”
“Got that. You called code. You never call code.”
“I saved it for a serious crisis, unlike some people.”
“Hey, shoes are serious.”
“You wanted help with flip-flops!” Kayla said. “Flip-flops barely count as shoes. They’re footprints with straps.” Last summer, Kayla had been in the middle of a complex heist at one of the Montecito mansions, and she’d had to abandon it because of a cryptic text from Selena that called on the code. She hadn’t let Selena forget it. Kayla jabbed her finger at her phone. “I need this.”
Selena sighed, rolled her eyes, and then sighed again. “You have to come with me.”
Both Selena and Kayla turned as one to look at Moonbeam. Moonbeam tossed her hands in the air. “Go on and fix it. And tell him it was malfunctioning before you dropped it or crushed it or whatever you did. The GPS said you were out of range, which never happens in Santa Barbara. Coverage is excellent within a ten-mile radius. I’ve tested it.”
Kayla felt all her muscles clench. She should have known her mother would try to track her. “Hah! Okay, yeah, must fix that.” She tried to read Moonbeam’s face, to see if she was at all suspicious. She couldn’t tell. Hopefully, Moonbeam blamed the broken phone. Grabbing Selena’s arm and the dead phone, Kayla propelled her toward the door.
“And Kayla?” Moonbeam said. “I won’t forbid you from seeing that boy. But please … before every action, ask yourself, ‘Would I rather be home or in the emergency room?’ Your choice, not mine. I trust you to make your own smart choices.”
Kayla wanted to curl up into a ball. Being trusted was almost worse than being grounded. If Moonbeam ever found out what she was doing, flitting around the world, using her power right and left … Moonbeam couldn’t find out. It was that simple. She’d never discovered the thefts; she wouldn’t learn about this. “I’ll try,” Kayla promised.
Moonbeam smiled, so sweet and trusting that it made Kayla feel like the worst human being on the face of the earth. “That’s all I ask.” She kissed Kayla on the cheek, and Kayla waved as she followed Selena out to the garden.
Outside, Selena said, “Your mom is amazing.”
“I know.”
“I can’t believe she didn’t ground you.”
“She wants me to have a love life.” Kayla didn’t say why Moonbeam wanted that.
“She wants you to be happy.” There wa
s a note of wistfulness in Selena’s voice.
“Maybe.” Kayla walked through the red gate, and the wind chimes sang a tangle of notes. A shockingly blue bird startled from a bush. It darted into the sky. “I wish she didn’t have to be so afraid all the time. And here I am, making it worse.” She got into Selena’s car.
Selena hopped into the driver’s seat and peeled out. Uncharacteristically, she turned the volume down on the radio. Wind drowned out the mariachi-like guitar riffs. “So, are you going to tell me what happened?”
“Yes. I nearly—” Her voice caught in her throat. She swallowed, and then she forced herself to recap events. When she got to the cave-in, Selena nearly swerved onto the median. “And that’s why I need the photo. Someone wanted that parchment enough to nearly kill me. I at least deserve a look at it.”
Selena nodded. For once, she didn’t have a witty response. She drove faster down the palm-tree-lined streets until she squealed to a stop outside a rundown shop that looked plucked from the seventies. Its front window was stuffed with appliances from vacuums to tape recorders to electric tie racks. She parked the car, and Kayla got out. Cradling the phone to her chest like it was a sick baby, she followed Selena to the door.
At the door, Selena hesitated.
“What is it?” Kayla asked.
“You remember when I was coming over to your house to vent because my parents had flipped out about something, and then Daniel was there and we kind of got distracted?”
“Yeah, I vaguely recall getting myself caught up in some kind of perilous quest.”
Selena took a deep breath. “Well, it was about him. Sam.”
“Who?”
“The guy. The phone-miracle guy. The one we’re about to see. Seriously, Kayla, did a rock land on your head?”
Kayla held up her hands in surrender. “You never said his name.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry. Anyway, we were supposed to go on a date, and he came to the house and—”
Kayla stopped her. “You had a date and didn’t tell me?”
“Can we skip to the important part? He met my parents.”
Kayla’s mouth formed an O at her doomed tone, ready to be sympathetic, though she wasn’t sure exactly why it was warranted. “And I take it it didn’t go well?” Admittedly, Selena’s parents could be intense. Selena’s father was kind—jovial and loud to the point of being overwhelming, but kind. And her mother was the most graceful, most intimidating person that Kayla had ever met. Not a hair out of place, ever. Taken together, they were so overpowering, they made you feel as articulate as a dishrag. “Did they intimidate him?”
“Worse, they disapproved.”
“Oh. Why? What’s wrong with him?”
Sighing, Selena seemed to deflate. “Absolutely nothing.” She opened the door and gestured for Kayla to enter first. A bell rang as Kayla walked through the door. Selena followed. “Hi, Sam,” she squeaked.
Sam looked like a surfer. Very blond. Very tan. He wore a muscle shirt and Hawaiian flower-print shorts. He had bare feet and wore an anklet made of shells. He was using a jackknife to clean out some unrecognizable gadget. “Whoa. Your Highness. I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again.” He got to his feet and looked at Selena with an expression that flashed from surprised to angry to wistful in a matter of seconds. It was an impressive display. Eyebrows raised, Kayla looked at Selena.
“I’m here for my friend Kayla.” Selena gave Kayla a push forward between her shoulder blades. “She desperately needs her phone fixed, and, well, you’re the best.” Kayla heard a breathless nervousness in her friend’s voice. Selena was never breathless.
“I can’t take your money.” Sam had a deep voice like a baritone opera singer. It was the kind of voice that Kayla knew Selena liked, the kind that thrummed in your bones when he spoke. “You know that. You know why.” The words were loaded with that same mix of emotions.
Kayla looked from Sam to Selena and back again. Sam’s eyes were fixed on Selena’s face as if glued, and Selena was looking everywhere—floor, ceiling, walls, windows—except at Sam. Kayla felt like she’d walked into some kind of soap opera. She so didn’t have time for this.
“You shouldn’t be here. I can’t fix it.” Sam didn’t look at Kayla or the phone. “You should take it to the mall. They’ll either fix it or send it back to the manufacturer. If it’s under warranty, they’ll send you a new phone. Maybe even upgrade it.”
Whatever was going on between them, it didn’t matter right now. Kayla had other things to worry about. Hugging the phone, she said, “There’s a photo on it that a friend of mine desperately needs. It’s more serious than you could imagine.”
Sam shook his head.
“Please,” Kayla said. “Selena says you’re the best.”
“Genius,” Selena clarified.
“You said that?”
“I’m a lousy liar. Ask Kayla.”
Kayla nodded. “Back in fifth grade, she even stopped the school play because she couldn’t manage to deliver her lines without breaking character. She was supposed to be a tree.”
Sam sighed. “How dead is it?”
“It may have been in a cave-in,” Kayla said.
“May have?” He arched his blond eyebrows.
Kayla shrugged and held out the phone. She felt as though she were delivering a family member for surgery. She couldn’t explain why it mattered so much to her. She didn’t owe Daniel’s mother anything, and Daniel wouldn’t blame her if they failed—no one could have predicted that light spell or the cave-in. If the phone wasn’t fixed, she’d have a great excuse to end this craziness right now, before her life was in danger again. Daniel could try another way to find his mother. Or maybe the police would succeed. But she couldn’t quit now. She had firsthand knowledge of how serious the situation was and how dangerous the people who had his mother were.
Sam took the phone. Examining it, he went behind the counter and pulled out a set of tools and a USB plug. “Not sure how long this will take.”
“I’ll wait,” Kayla said at the same time that Selena said, “We’ll go.”
“No, thanks, I’m not letting that phone out of my sight.” Kayla located a stool and perched on it. Selena shifted from foot to foot, looking as if she wanted to vanish like Daniel. Kayla had never seen her like this, even during the worst of middle school—like eighth-grade graduation when her mother’s cell phone rang and she left just as Selena’s name was called, telling another parent it didn’t count since Selena was only ranked second. Selena had overheard. Even then, Selena had held her head high and gone home with Kayla as if she’d intended that all along. Or last fall, when a boy who’d had a crush on her started spreading rumors—she’d stood up to them, literally standing on a cafeteria table and systematically shredding everyone who’d spread the lies. She didn’t embarrass easily. Kayla admired that about her. She was never breathless or embarrassed or whatever she was now. She always embraced her inner diva. Except around her parents. And now, apparently, with Sam.
Sam looked up from the phone. His gaze lingered on Selena before switching to Kayla. “You realize by bringing this to me, you’re violating the manufacturer’s warranty.”
“Can you fix it?” Kayla asked.
“I can fix anything,” Sam said. “Except her.”
Kayla turned to Selena. “Selena?”
Selena examined her manicure and frowned at one fingernail. She was trying to pretend nonchalance and failing miserably. “Long story. Kind of boring.”
“Short story,” Sam corrected. “Not boring to me.”
Selena winced. “Sam … I’m sorry.”
Kayla didn’t think she’d ever seen Selena apologize for anything. Ever. She looked slowly from Selena to Sam and back, feeling as if she’d tuned in after a commercial break and missed the show intro. “When my current crisis is over, I’ll help fix this.” She gestured at the air between Selena and Sam.
Sam frowned at the phone. He slid a tool into its side and popped off
the back. Holding it up to the light, he blew gently at its innards. “You can’t.”
“I can fix her,” Kayla said confidently.
“In that case”—he picked up a tiny brush and gently cleaned the electronics—“this is free of charge.”
Glowering at both of them, Selena waved her hands. “Hey, I’m right here. And I don’t need fixing. I’m perfect in every way, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
Kayla ignored her. “What happened?” she asked Sam.
“I asked him out, okay?” Selena said. “And my parents said no. End of story. He’s right; it was a short story. Can we please not talk about it?”
“Wait, you asked him?” Kayla said. “And you didn’t tell me first? You tell me before you buy shoes. Where did you meet? What did he say? Why did your parents say no?”
“He fixed my phone, that’s when we met,” Selena said. “And he laughed at my jokes.”
“Then her parents took one look at me”—he gestured at himself—“and no one was laughing anymore.”
“Because you’re white?” Kayla guessed.
“Because he doesn’t wear shoes,” Selena said. “And because he works here and barely pays his rent and can’t afford a car that doesn’t sound like it’s murdering dolphins.”
“Her Highness neglected to tell me that her parents are richer than God,” Sam said. “When I came to pick her up, they looked at me like I was a bug smeared on the windshield of their Lamborghini.”
“Bad analogy. Bugs don’t touch the Lamb.”
“Your parents like me,” Kayla said. She’d never felt any disapproval from them, even though she lived in a cottage that was approximately the size of their master bathroom, even though she’d eaten her fair share of meals scrounged from the local restaurants’ Dumpsters, and even though the closest she’d come to designer handbags was to the ones she’d pickpocketed.
“Yeah, but you don’t have sperm,” Selena said.
Kayla noticed a smile was pulling at the corners of Sam’s mouth, and she decided that she liked him. Anyone who appreciated Selena’s humor was a keeper. There weren’t many boys who were more amused than intimidated by her. Or, really, any boys. “She’s blunt,” Sam commented.
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