CHAPTER 1

“Should we stop?” Aunt Meg’s question pierced the air.

Kaia jerked up from her book. “No!” she said. Then clapped her hand to her mouth.

She doubted Aunt Meg and Uncle Mike had heard her from the minivan’s third row seat. Peering through the carefully constructed wall of luggage and duffle bags, Kaia saw Uncle Mike shrug, his go-to gesture. She slumped. They could not stop. Not now. They were almost to Seagate and freedom.

Staring at the backs of Uncle Mike and Aunt Meg’s heads—bald spot and frosted bob—Kaia sighed. She rubbed her sleeve against the foggy window, peering out of the rain-spattered glass. A bright, silver light appeared in the darkness like a zipper opening the sky.

“We’re stopping.” Aunt Meg answered her own question.

Kaia glanced toward her aunt’s voice and then back. The light was gone from the darkening sky. 

It could have been a bolt of lightning, but she knew it wasn’t. It was just another one of those things she could see that others couldn’t, but this time, she would keep quiet. Nothing would mess up her summer in Seagate.

“Did you hear me?” Aunt Meg glared back at her. “We’re stopping.”

Kaia nodded. Of course they would stop. Aunt Meg’s questions were never really questions. Should we have soup for lunch? Better get ready for some chicken noodle. Kaia didn’t mind the not-questions. She knew what her aunt was thinking before her aunt even did. That’s how she knew she wasn’t included in the family reunion trip. Should we find something else for Kaia to do? She wasn’t surprised. Aunt Meg always got what she wanted, like getting a break from the strange little girl she was forced to take in when her brother and his wife died. She is so quiet; it’s unnerving. Kaia still wasn’t sure what that word meant, but she liked to think it was some sort of superpower that she hadn’t discovered yet.

Clambering through the second row, Kaia perched at the edge of the seat. “Are you sure you want to stop? We’re almost there.” She pointed at the spiral-bound maps on her aunt’s lap. A fat red line snaked its way down the page, winding through the Smoky Mountains and ending at a small dot off Florida’s gulf coast.  

Kaia didn’t mind missing the family reunion if it meant she could spend an extra week on Seagate Island. Summer at the beach was the best time of year. Since her parents died, she’d spent every summer on the Florida island with her maternal grandmother, Gogo.

There wasn’t much to do at Gogo’s old cottage, but that was how Kaia liked it. No one to bother her, to point out how different she was. She savored the hot sun, baking her bronze skin a deeper shade of brown. Just painting and drawing and swimming every day. That was how it had been every year until now, but this year would be different.

This year, Kaia was determined not to leave at the end of the summer. She would go to Nautilus Middle School, join her first team, and maybe make a friend or two. No doubt her grandmother would let her stay this time. Kaia turned twelve this year, and twelve was not a kid. Gogo couldn’t use that excuse anymore. This summer, her life would change, and Kaia could not wait to get started.

“It’s the Harriet Tubman rest stop,” Aunt Meg informed the car. “We always stop at Harriet Tubman.” Her uncle’s bald spot bobbed up and down, and Kaia sighed. So, it was decided. Kaia looked at the blue nail polish on her fingers. The color on her left thumb was almost picked clean.

They were already slowing down and, with a bump, veered off the highway, the tires crunching on the gravel road. The minivan’s blinker clicked in rhythm. The tires splashed through patches of sitting water. Kaia sat back against a bag of laundry. For most people spending an extra thirty minutes in a car after you’ve spent eight hours wouldn’t be such a big deal, but for Kaia, the next thirty minutes meant everything.

She peered through the clouds looking for the sun on the blurry horizon. They had to get there before sunset. When the sun went down on Seagate Island, something magical happened. Her aunt and uncle wouldn’t understand. They couldn’t see it, but she did. The skyline absolutely exploded in colors. Burnt orange bled into creamy yellows like a ripe peach rolling on the horizon. The colors literally came to life, diving and swooping, darting and chasing each other across the sky like birds. The sunset called to Kaia, beckoning, like an invitation addressed only to her.

“It looks like rain.” Kaia gestured at the clouds, hoping her aunt’s desire to keep her perfect hairdo would keep them on the road. No such luck. Aunt Meg was already unfolding her clear plastic rain bonnet. She looked like she was wearing a sandwich bag on her head.

“A little rain never hurt anyone,” Uncle Mike said. Kaia disagreed. She patted her frizz and sighed.

Her aunt and uncle weren’t bad people. She had read books about orphans living with wicked stepparents. Aunt Meg and Uncle Mike weren’t mean exactly; they just didn’t care about her that much. Actually, they didn’t really notice her. The skinny brown girl caught in the background of a family photo or two. In all fairness, they never wanted a kid. They agreed to take her in, but they didn’t agree to make her the center of their universe. Kaia would have settled for being a galaxy or maybe a far-off star.

“We’ll be late.” Kaia made one last effort to keep them on the road and on schedule. Aunt Meg and Uncle Mike were afraid of Grandma Gogo. She was a large woman with jangling beads and salt and pepper braids. Unlike Kaia, she wasn’t afraid to say what she felt, and she didn’t like people to be late.

“You’re probably upset because you don’t have money for treats. Spent it all on crayons to make those crazy pictures.” Uncle Mike guffawed.

Silently, Kaia balled her fists against her lap. “I don’t use crayons.” Maybe she would have felt better if he hadn’t been right about the second part. She had spent all her money on new paint supplies. Since she was little, Kaia had always drawn and later painted. She loved to capture what she saw in her own way, making her own world. Where other people saw a blue sky, she’d paint pink. She’d paint a squirrel purple and two feet tall if she felt like it. She could create whatever she wanted. Her paintings were unique. And beautiful.

The minivan rolled to a stop, the only car in the giant parking lot. A forest of tall, dark trees loomed at the blacktop’s edge. Under the streetlights, the wet asphalt glistened like coal.

 “I’m getting some fresh air.” Kaia yanked open the van door.

 “Suit yourself.” Aunt Meg staggered from the van and picked her way across the puddles, clutching an umbrella and urging Uncle Mike on.

One gas pump and a snack shop. Not much of a rest stop, but maybe a good thing. Less shopping for Aunt Meg. They might just make it to Seagate in time.

Kaia paced around the van, skirting around puddles and thinking. She had eight weeks to persuade Grandma Gogo to let her stay in Seagate after the summer. She could help around the house. Collect shells for Gogo’s projects. Go to town to pick up groceries. Kaia stopped. It wasn’t enough. She did all those things every summer. She needed to do more, prove that she was ready to stay on her own.

The air smelled like rain and damp pine needles. She wandered around the lot until she knew what to do. She had to make it through the entire summer without getting into any trouble. If she could convince Gogo that she could take care of herself, she would have to let her stay.

Kaia was involved in her thoughts when something landed in the puddle next to her. She jumped at the splash, her heart racing. She peered at the little wave rippling in the brown pool. It looked like someone had thrown a tennis ball at her, the fuzzy surface of it bobbing in the water.

Something made her look up. A boy emerged at the edge of the brush, but she couldn’t make out his features in the shadow of the trees.

“Is this your ball?” she called out, squatting down next to the pool. Her hand had just touched it when it moved. The ball rolled over. It had a beak.

A bird. A baby bird was staring up at her with huge lavender eyes, blinking. Kaia wasn’t all that familiar with birds, but she didn’t think they were supposed to stare at people. She looked over at the trees. The boy had disappeared.

Just then the shop door chimed, and Aunt Meg and Uncle Mike struggled to the car under the weight of several bags. Aunt Meg was squawking at her husband as usual. “You don’t sound like that, do you?” Kaia asked the tiny bird.

The bird teetered to the edge of the puddle. It was covered in watery mud, but Kaia could see that it had the downy fuzz of a newborn chick. Where had it come from? It couldn’t have fallen from a nest. There were no trees in the lot. What about the boy she’d seen in the woods? Was it his? And why would he throw a baby bird at her? Kaia couldn’t believe anyone would have done that on purpose.

“Kaia, let’s go,” Uncle Mike shouted.

“I’ll be right there.” Kaia scooped up the tiny bird.

“What are you doing over there?” Aunt Meg called.

“Oh, nothing . . .” She couldn’t just leave the bird in the parking lot. It might get run over. Her aunt and uncle would freak if she tried to bring it in the car, so she wriggled out of her sweatshirt and tucked the bird inside.

The van pulled up beside her. Aunt Meg leaned out the window. “Kaia, hurry up. It’s starting to rain.” Her lips were puckered like she had just eaten a lemon. “What do you have there?”

“Just my sweatshirt. It got a little wet.”

“Well, don’t get water in the car,” Aunt Meg scolded. “And wipe your feet. We don’t need mud tracked in here either.”

Kaia crawled into the van just as fat raindrops began to fall. With a crunch of gravel, the van swung out of the lot. Just then, a thought popped into her head. She was bringing a lost bird with lavender eyes to Gogo’s house.

Did that count as causing trouble?