a little red. When I went to get my drink, on the opposite side of the bar, I Googled can you grow out of a shellfish allergy and learned that while it’s not impossible, it’s highly unlikely, and there’s usually still at least some reaction. Enough that most people would avoid inhaling an entire plate of them in under five minutes.
Maybe I could’ve accepted my alleged cousin as one of the lucky few, if it weren’t for the fact that this boy has never fit as Jonah Story. From the first time I saw him on the ferry, he didn’t make sense. For one thing, he’s a lot better-looking than I remember, even allowing for the space of nine years. For another, although he made a solid early effort at copying my cousin’s obnoxious mannerisms, he hasn’t been able to keep it up. This Jonah is annoying in his own way—he has a bad attitude and a chip on his shoulder about something, clearly—but he doesn’t have the same analytical, academic tone as Jonah Story.
“Are you kidding me?” Jonah’s tense expression turns to outraged disbelief. “A shellfish allergy? Thanks, JT. That would’ve been useful information to have.”
“Who’s JT?” I ask, although I think I know.
Jonah’s jaw ticks, and he regards me in silence for a few seconds like he’s weighing how much to say. “Your cousin,” he finally admits. “We go to school together, and people call him JT so they don’t get us confused. His middle name is Theodore. But I guess you already know that.”
I don’t—or if I ever did, I’ve forgotten—but Jonah North doesn’t need to know that. I can’t help a satisfied smirk at the idea of my cousin being the secondary Jonah somewhere. I’ll bet that bugs the crap out of him. “So he knew you were doing this?”
Jonah hesitates again, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand as conflicting emotions skitter across his face. “He asked me to do this,” he says.
“He asked you to pose as him?” My voice edges upward in disbelief.
“Shhh,” Jonah says, even though we’re the only ones out here. He looks at the dumpster beside us, his mouth twisting. “Look, I can’t think straight with this stench. I’m moving. You can come with or not.”
“Oh, I’m right behind you,” I say, secretly relieved as Jonah heads for the back of the parking lot. When we reach the edge of a grassy path, I grab his arm. “This is far enough. Spill the rest. Why did Jonah—or JT, or whatever—ask you to pose as him?”
Away from the lights of the restaurant, Jonah’s face is nothing but shadows. “I’ll tell you everything, but I have one condition.” He raises his voice to cut off the protest I’m about to launch. “You don’t tell anybody who I really am. Well, you can tell Aubrey. But that’s it.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Jonah doesn’t answer, and I fold my arms tightly across my chest. It feels like the temperature dropped by at least fifteen degrees since we arrived at Dunes, and the sleeveless top that was fine inside the crowded restaurant isn’t doing me any favors out here. Jonah, on the other hand, looks perfectly comfortable in a flannel shirt over his usual faded T-shirt. “You don’t get to make the rules when you’re the one committing fraud.”
Jonah shrugs. “Okay, then. Have a good night.”
He turns away, and I lunge for his arm. “You can’t just leave!”
“I can if we don’t have a deal.”
“That’s—” I sputter for another few seconds until it occurs to me that lying to a liar isn’t the worst sin I could commit. “Okay, fine. I won’t tell.”
Jonah turns so he’s fully facing me once again. “I don’t really believe you,” he says, almost to himself. “But I can always drag you down with me if I get caught, so there’s that.”
“No wonder you and JT are friends,” I snap. “You have a lot in common.”
“I never said we were friends,” Jonah says coldly. “This is a business arrangement.” I force myself to keep quiet, and after a few seconds he blows out a sigh. “Here’s the thing. JT wanted to go to science camp. Which you knew, right?” I nod. “His father said no once they got the invitation from your grandmother. JT was pissed, because he got a scholarship and everything, which is tough to do, and Anders still told him he had to come here. I got into the same camp, but I