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late.”
    â€œ Late for what? We’re not going back, remember?” He rubbed my shoulders and leaned over to kiss me. I turned my head. “What’s wrong?” he asked again.
    â€œI’m thinking we did this backward. Shouldn’t we . . . date or something?”
    â€œCome here.” Luke held me close. “That was beautiful. Beatrice Malcolm, don’t
get distant
on me now!” He tried to tickle me. “No pouting in my car.”
    â€œYour car?” I chuckled.
    â€œSee, you’re in there, I knew it. Come back to me, little Bea. Where are you?” he asked in a goofy voice. And once he made me laugh, I felt better. We got out of the car and walked on the sand near the edge of the water, daring the waves to move closer.
    â€œYou make me feel so alive,” he said.
    And I responded by grabbing his hand. We spoke very little, but my mind was whirling—a dark blizzard of thoughts. Eventually, he led us toward the parking lot, and he kissed me as he opened the car door.
    I wasn’t sure if I’d see Luke again, and then gradually,
not
seeing him became my desire. I didn’t want to see Lucas Drake
ever
again. My dark swinging mood tree was on a rampage. I was grateful when we delivered the car to Simon at precisely 3:10 p.m. and Uncle George showed up—out of nowhere—to give me a ride home.
    Luke hugged me when we said good-bye and I hardly responded—just a light pat on his back. I didn’t even wave as I got into Uncle George’s car and we drove away.

Chapter 5
    I tried my best to forget about what I’d just done with Luke and how rude I had been when I left him standing on the curb. But my focus switched to Uncle George. He’d never picked me up at school. How odd that he chose that moment to show up?
    â€œYou don’t have to watch over me,” I said.
    Uncle George didn’t say anything as he drove. We’d been on the road a while when I realized we were in a neighborhood I’d never seen before.
    â€œWhere are we going?” I asked.
    â€œI have to run a quick errand.”
    I could tell he didn’t want to talk. His lips were closed in a tight line and he shifted his eyes around. So I played with the radio and tried to relax. I thought maybe Luke did want to be my boyfriend . . . Maybe I should have been nicer to him.
    When we merged onto the highway, Uncle George looked even more stressed, but he drove on without saying a word. And then after what felt like an eternity, he parked in front of a dumpy diner. “Are you hungry?” he asked.
    â€œNot really.”
    â€œI need a cup of coffee. C’mon.”
    He found a table in the corner and ordered a slice of pie with his java. When the server left, he whispered, “Go down that hall toward the restroom. Don’t question me, just do it.” He sat back and then tilted his head in that direction. “Now,” he said, with an air of finality.
    I opened my mouth, but before I could ask him for a reason, he shook his head
no
and glared at me. The inside of my skull felt as though it were being raked. He’d never remotely acted this way before. So I headed in the direction Uncle George told me to go. I tapped on the door to the women’s room, and then I heard a whistle from outside the back door. My heart nearly stopped when a man wearing a hoodie popped his head into the restaurant.
    â€œDad?”
    â€œShh.” My father put his finger up to his lips.
    I hugged him and cried. Then in one swift move, he pushed me away, holding me at arm’s length and looking at me as if I might evaporate. He pointed toward a black SUV behind the diner, grabbed hold of my hand, and led me outside. We jumped in the back and the car immediately jerked forward, toppling us into each other. Dad reacted quicker than me when he pulled the seatbelt around my body and snapped it in place.
    The guy in the front passenger seat held a phone up to