the registration email was due today, on my birthday. I knew it. It was on the calendar. It was on the checklist and I completely missed it. I had been so worried about the Scarlett Experiment that I didn’t even spell-check it once. Forget the spell check. I could miss it altogether.
“We’ll get you there,” Andrew says.
We have to slow down past the guard or Andrew could get ticketed for speeding. Either way, I am sure they’ll hear something from all the people we zoomed by at fifty miles an hour.
10:41.
Once we turn back onto the main street that leads out of Nauset, Andrew goes about seventy miles per hour.
“Turn at Shore Road,” I cry and point down Aunt Nancy’s street. It’s possible that Andrew knows this house or that he’s picked up Scarlett here before. It can’t matter. I cannot walk home and make it in time. I will have to think of an excuse later. The Waterman Scholarship has to come first.
“What happens if you don’t make it?” Andrew asks. We’re nearly there.
10:43.
“I can’t even think about it,” I say.
“Which one is your house?”
“The last one on the right.”
He slows to a stop and I grab my bag from the floor. Any second I am expecting Andrew to mention something about the house and Scarlett, but he doesn’t.
My hair is wavy from the salty water and I probably look like death. I can’t care about it even though I desperately want to. I get out of the car.
I do have a second to say good-bye.
I lean a hand in his window. “I’m sorry about this,” I say.
10:44.
“You’re beautiful,” he says without missing a beat.
“Oh, so you like girls who look like rabid, stressed-out animals?” I ask, picking up a string of wet hair and letting it slap onto my chest.
“Can I call you tomorrow?” he asks.
“I’d like that,” I say. I have to go and before I back away again he lays his arm over the passenger seat and I can finally see what his tattoo says: swim to the moon.
“Hey, I have an idea,” he says through the open window. “You like parties?”
I’m not exactly sure. Party invites don’t exactly fall in my lap every day.
“Want to come to some too-fancy party at a restaurant tomorrow night? It’s not black tie or anything, but it’s dressier than normal.”
I almost say yes immediately.
But I can’t. It’s my birthday dinner at the Lobster Pot and I’ll be with Mom, Dad, Scarlett, and Aunt Nancy. It would be amazing for me to be at a party with Andrew.
“I can’t,” I say. “I have a family thing. But I wish I could.” I back away slowly.
“Okay,” he says with a glance to the clock. “Shit it’s ten fifty. You gotta go.”
“Bye!” I cry and haul ass up the front steps. I pause once I have the key in the door. Andrew’s taillights already swoop around the corner. I want to dance! I want to sing!
I want to complete my damn registration.
I turn the key very slowly. I bite down on my lip as the door clicks and unlocks.
It’s 10:52. I have eight minutes to boot up the computer, sign in, and attach the documents.
Aunt Nancy’s house opens up to a foyer that leads directly into the kitchen. I expect Mom to be sitting there. She’s bound to be in the lounge, in front of the TV. But the den is black, silent.
Forget that I’m late for registration, I’m late getting home. I’ve never even come home a minute after ten. Hell, I’ve never come within an hour of it. Tucker and I always went directly home when we were supposed to. I’ll have to find a way to explain this to Mom and Dad.
I grab Mom’s computer and hug it close to me. Courtesy of many lessons from Scarlett, I hold the house keys closed in my fist so they won’t jingle. The sand on the bottom of my feet makes little crunching noises as I glide through the house. I will definitely leave a trail. I freeze. I’ll clean it after I finish registering. I run up the staircase to the second floor and stop outside Mom and Dad’s bedroom. I rise onto the balls of my feet. . . .
They are both completely passed out.
No one waited up to see if I came home.
No one knows.
With a dash, I run past Scarlett’s room next and only glance in, but she is a lump under the covers. Her blonde hair