Sea Read Online Free

the man I used to believe could fix anything.
    “Okay, Dad,” I said.

THE BACKPACK
    Spider’s room still smelled like crusty salt water and cheese puffs. But now there was a musky scent, some cologne mixed in, that made it even nicer to hang out in.
    Surf posters still covered the walls like ocean-themed wallpaper, and I could barely see the floor, it was so covered in crap. Maybe that’s why we used to get along so well—we both enjoyed lounging around in our own chaos.
    A surf movie was on his flat-screen TV, but I was paying more attention to the fact that we were sitting next to each other on his bed. “Want some more?” Spider asked, dangling a half-empty bag of chips in front of me.
    “No, thanks.”
    Spider shrugged and continued to munch.
    So.
    When are you going to show me the thing you found for me?
    Like he could read my mind, he rolled up the empty bag, shot it easily into the basketball hoop beside his door and watched it swoosh into the trash can underneath.
    “Nice shot,” I said.
    “Some things never change,” he said ironically. “Did you decide about Indo yet?” he asked, facing me.
    I could have told him about the DVD.
    How I watched half of it before with Bev in her room. That I didn’t finish it. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I couldn’t. It was too scary hearing the kids’ stories mixed in with news camera footage: the massive wave rushing through villages, destroying everything in its wake. The screams as the people ran and swam and struggled for safety. How one little girl, with a white flower in her hair, hid from the camera’s questions the whole time. She wouldn’t speak at all, like she was hiding from her own story. The whole time I watched, I couldn’t stop thinking: Maybe she’d speak to me.
    “Can we talk about something else?” I asked Spider. I didn’t want to admit I was actually considering going. That even though Bev and Oma both thought it was a terrible idea, I might do this.
    I might really go.
    I noticed the summer freckles sprinkled across his nose when he asked, “Come on, you don’t want to go to Indo even a little bit? Because I remember, we used to ... Well, you used to always say you wanted to travel with your parents one day.”
    I narrowed my eyes. “Do you swear my dad isn’t bribing you to persuade me to go? I mean, I know Bev would never succumb to that kind of pressure, but you,” I said with a grin, “are an entirely different story.”
    “Swear.” He held up his pinky—our old ritual. “And I take offense at the suggestion,” he said, but he was grinning too.
    I stared at his tanned hand.
    Did he want me to twist mine into his? I didn’t dare reach out and touch him. From the corner of my eye I watched him pause for a beat before folding his hand back into a fist and reaching over the side of the bed.
    “What’s that?” I asked.
    He set a kid-size backpack on my lap. “Remember when we were eight, your parents were leaving for Vietnam and we thought we’d stow away in your dad’s Jeep? Well, I found yours.”
    “No way!” I held up the Scooby-Doo pack. Sea was written on top in bright pink cursive. “I can’t believe you still have this!”
    “They almost missed their plane when they found us hiding in the back. Your dad was so pissed, but your mom just laughed ... ,” he said, and then stopped when his words stuck to the air like flypaper. I tried to swallow them away, but my throat was a desert.
    I carefully unzipped the top. The inside was still stuffed with the little kid clothes I’d packed all those years ago.
    “I think this is a sign, Sea,” Spider said, his voice low, cautious. “This time you really get to go.”
    Was it a sign?
    I didn’t believe much in signs, not anymore. But this was pretty coincidental. I stared at the bag but didn’t dare look at Spider, who was leaning so close I could feel his breath on my cheek.
    I leaned back, staring at the backpack while I talked. “If I decide to