The Cupcake Queen by Heather Hepler Page B

do?”
    “You just have to get approval from the rest of the club.”
    “Oh,” I say, nodding.
    Marcus bends and pets Sam, who is still leaning against me. “Looks like you have one vote,” he says.
    “Just one?” I ask.
    Marcus looks up at me, and even in the moonlight I can see him blush. He straightens up and gazes back out over the water. “I think it’s unanimous,” he says. We stand quietly for a bit, just watching the waves and listening to the sounds of the pebbles shifting against one another.
    “So what’s it saying now?” I ask.
    “It’s more of a feeling, really. Not words.” He’s quiet again. The wind is cold against my damp skin, making me shiver, but I stand as still as I can. If I move, even a little, I’m going to ruin this moment. “It’s sad tonight.” His voice is soft. I wonder if it’s always sad for him. And if it is, why does he keep coming out here?
    Sam sneezes. The sudden noise startles us. Marcus shifts a little away from me, and it’s like the bubble that we made burst.
    “We should get home,” Marcus says. He smiles slightly. The mouth-only smiling must run in their family because it’s the same smile Mr. Fish has. I wonder if that’s how it’s always been with them or if it’s something that crept in after the accident and never left.
    I try to think of something to say, but like so many other times recently, I feel like I have nothing and too much in my head at the same time. When I look at him, I realize whatever was between us has vanished. I try to hand him his sweatshirt.
    “Keep it,” he says. “I’ll get it back later.” He smiles one more time then starts heading away down the beach. Sam stays beside me, leaning heavily, until he, too, takes off into the night. His weight against my leg disappears so quickly that I almost fall again. Over the sound of the waves and the shifting pebbles, I imagine I can just make out the sound of sneakers hitting the hard pebbles followed by the nearly silent sound of paws striking the hard sand.
    I make my way slowly through the deep sand back up to the house. The house is dark except for the one lamp in the living room that’s on a timer. I feel a little like that—cold and dark, with just one small light deep inside. But when I think about Marcus, I feel guilty for feeling so sad about my problems.
    I stomp on the mat near the back door, trying to knock off as much sand as I can. I don’t bother flipping on any lights. Sometimes with the lights on it feels like I’m even more alone, like I’m on this tiny, lit island in a sea of darkness. I sit back on the window seat, feeling the dampness of my sweatpants seep into my legs. I should change, I think. But I don’t. I just keep sitting, listening to the sound of the waves filtering in through the open door. I lift Marcus’s sweatshirt up to my face and breathe in. Somehow the strange smells just make me feel like I don’t belong here even more than before. I keep breathing in, trying to find something familiar, but it just smells salty and musty and slightly of wet dog.

chapter ten
    My eyes all puffy from all the crying. It feels like they are permanently sealed shut. I manage to open them enough to stumble into the bathroom. I stare at myself in the mirror and try to open my eyes wide, but they stay squinty and pink. I stick my tongue out at myself and shut off the light. “Penny,” Gram calls from downstairs, “you’re going to be late.”
    I sigh and walk to my closet. I flip past a bunch of clothes that I haven’t worn since I got here. In the City, I would dress to be noticed. Here I try to dress to disappear. I yank on a pair of cords peeking out from the top shelf in my closet, but they don’t budge. I pull harder, and a whole stack of sweaters falls on top of my head. I pick up the sweater on top, a navy blue one with just the tiniest hole in the sleeve. To climb out of the closet I have to kick aside a suitcase that I haven’t bothered to