Chapter 12

Chapter 12 Waiting Period waiting period (waiting period) n. A specified delay, required by law, between taking an action and seeing the results of that action. Jessie wanted to have fun. She really did. But it seemed like the more she tried, the less she had. First, the drive to the beach took two and a half hours because of traffic. Jessie felt the car lurching. Forward, stop. Forward, stop. "Memo to myself," said Mr. Moriarty. "Never go to the beach on the Sunday of Labor Day weekend. Especially when there's been a heat wave for more than a week." In the back seat, Jessie and Megan played license

plate tag and magnetic bingo and twenty questions, but by the end of the car ride, Jessie was cramped and bored. Then the beach parking lot was full, so they had to park half a mile away and walk. Then the beach was so crowded that they could hardly find a spot for their blanket. Then Megan said the water was too cold and she just wanted to go in up to her ankles. She kept squealing and running backwards every time a gentle ripple of a wave came her way. What fun was that? Sure, the water was cold! It was the North Shore. It was supposed to be cold. That's why it felt so good on a hot day like this. When Jessie and Evan went to the beach, they would boogie board and bodysurf and skimboard and throw a Screaming Scrunch Ball back and forth the whole time. They loved to stay in the water until their lips turned blue and they couldn't stop shaking. Then they'd roast themselves like weenies on their towels until they were hot and sweating again, and then they'd go right back in. Now that was fun at the

beach. Megan liked to build sandcastles and collect shells and play sand tennis and read magazines. That's all fine, thought Jessie. But not going in the water? That's crazy. The ride home was itchy and hot. Jessie had sand in all the places where her skin rubbed together: between her toes, behind her ears, and between the cheeks of her bottom. And somehow she'd gotten sunburned on her back, even though Mrs. Moriarty had smeared her all over with thick, goopy sunscreen twice. Jessie didn't even have the patience for ten questions, let alone twenty. But Megan didn't get that Jessie didn't feel like talking. She kept trying to get her to take a quiz in a teen magazine. If Evan had been there, he would have kept quiet. Or maybe hummed a little. Jessie liked it when Evan hummed. As they turned onto Damon Road, Megan asked, "Are you feeling sick?" In fact, she was. For the past half-hour, Jessie

had been imagining walking in the door and facing Evan. And she'd been feeling sicker and sicker with every mile that brought her closer to home.