"Well? What is it?"

"I don't know where to start," he said. "This . . . it's hard for me, Princess."

"Okay, first of all? Call me princess again and I am so out of here. And second of all, just say it. Whatever it is you came here to say. Spit it out."

He picked up his water and took a long gulp, crushed a few mostly melted cubes of ice between his teeth. I sat there, glaring at him, half expecting him to give me some soap-operaesque tale. But what he said was "I started seeing this shrink about a year ago. In Scranton. I was living in Scranton and I started seeing this shrink because I was depressed. I don't mean like sad; I mean like I couldn't get out of bed in the morning. That kind of depressed."

"Yeah?" I said. "So?"

He sighed. "So I was seeing this shrink, and it turns out . . . well, it turns out I'd been depressed for a while. Probably long before Val-uh, your mom-pa.s.sed away. I guess you could say I wasn't real happy with the way my life turned out."

Oh, this was rich. The fire in my belly rose into my throat. "I suppose that's my fault, right?"

"No," he said. "Not at all. But-"

"But what? Did you actually think I'd feel sorry for you?"

"I wanted you to know why I left. Because it didn't have anything to do with you. Not a single thing. It was about me, about what I was going through. I should've handled things better."

"Of course you should have," I spat, sounding strong even though inside I was starting to shake. "But you've always been a selfish a.s.shole."

He closed his eyes and gave a little nod. "Yeah," he said, eyes still closed. "That sounds about right."

"Well," I said. "Glad we cleared that up."

"I'm not finished."

"So get finished."

He rubbed the corner of one eye, almost like he was coaxing it to open again. "I messed up," he said. "I know it. I'm not looking for you to tell me any different. I was a horrible father. Okay? I said it. I. Was. A. Horrible. Father."

"You were a nonexistent father," I said, my voice cracking on that final word. "And this breakfast is over."

I pushed back my chair and strode toward the door. If I'd stayed there another second, I would've started crying, and I'd already promised myself he wouldn't ever see me cry. I didn't even want to show him how angry I was, but the anger was clearly too much to control.

On the other side of the gla.s.s doors, a hot, dry morning smacked me in the face. It felt good, though, after the overly air-conditioned restaurant. I reached into my pants pockets to see if I had any coins for a pay phone, but all I had was Jesse's bills. It didn't matter. Layla had made good on her promise and taken the day off. I could walk to the Food-n-Stuff and call her collect.

I'd gone all of two steps when Frank came through the doors, spotted me, and jogged over. I willed my feet to work, but they were glued to the parking lot. In fact, it wasn't until Frank's hand reached out and brushed my shoulder that I could move at all.

"Don't you dare!" I screamed, not caring who else could hear. "Don't you dare touch me!"

"Keep your voice down," he begged.

I tried to get around him, but he moved with me, blocking me. "Please, Seattle," he said. "I'm here now, aren't I?"

I thought of my promise to Layla, that I'd at least hear him out. But she should've warned me. Especially if she'd known that all he wanted to do was whine. Pity me, my life sucked, that's why I was a bad father. Screw that.

Frank stood there, staring at me with pleading eyes, but I refused to get pulled in. Eventually I managed to say, "I want to go home." He nodded, pulled out the cloth napkin still tucked into the waistband of his jeans, and walked toward the Olds.

One Foot in Front of the Other.

He didn't say anything to me as we drove back to the house. Even though the Olds had air-conditioning, I opened the window and breathed in the hot wind. As we turned onto our street, I checked the digital clock on the dash and saw that it was quarter to nine. If I didn't go inside, I could still make it to meet Scott on time. Of course, that would mean showing up without my helmet and pads. But I knew that if I went home, Layla would give me the third degree and I'd never get out of there.

Frank put the car in park but left it running. "I know you weren't expecting me to show up like this. But I want to talk to you. There are still some things I need to say."

"Whatever."

I set off in a sprint before he could stop me. It was only six blocks or so to Russ's house, but I landed on the doorstep a panting, sweaty mess.

"Running from the law?" Scott joked as he let me in.

I didn't answer; I just pushed past him so that I could get to the bathroom. I looked as gross as I felt. The sweat had melted my liner into junkie-chic smudges, a look not improved by my now red-rimmed eyes. I spotted a bar of soap next to the faucet and used it to scrub my face clean.

Scott was standing not too far from the door when I emerged, concern clouding his face. "You okay?"

"I left my gear at home," I said, ignoring him. "So I can't hit the skate park with you today."

"You didn't answer my question. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I snapped. "I just need to get my skateboard and then I'll be out of your hair."

Scott frowned. "Who said I want you out of my hair?"

"Look, I have to leave. Now. My brothers-they know Russ, know where he lives, and eventually someone's going to think about coming here to look for me. But I don't want to be found right now, so if you can just give me my board, I'll go."

"Hey," Scott said, rubbing my shoulder. "What's going on?"

I pushed his hand away. "Nothing you need to worry about."

"Seattle," he said. "This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you about Katja. Because now you think I'm just some a.s.shole guy. Right? The thing is, I really do like you. A lot."

"That's your mistake," I said. "I'm not a very likable person." My voice cracked on those last few words, chased by the tears I'd held back when I was with Frank. I tried to turn away, but Scott pulled me into his arms, sort of like Critter had the night before, only different. Scott wasn't as bony, but he had a lot of hard muscle, and the weight of him against me made me feel suffocated. I wiggled out of his arms and took several steps back, trying to regain my balance.

"I'm sorry," he said. "You seemed so upset."

"I told you, I'm fine."

"Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

"I'm fine," I repeated. "Now where's my G.o.dd.a.m.ned skateboard?"

Scott stood there, his face blank. "I took it apart last night. If you wait a few minutes, I can put it back together."

"Never mind," I said, pushing past Scott and out the front door.

I could hear him calling to me, but I didn't care. I had to get out of there. Alone. I wanted to be alone.

Alone was the safest place I could be.

critter.

You Got a Nerve.

Layla shouldn't have made Seattle go. She never should have let the b.a.s.t.a.r.d back into the house-back into our lives. What was she thinking?

I glared at her from across the room as Frank explained what had happened. To hear him tell it, he was this misunderstood saintly father whose daughter had an unfortunate att.i.tude problem. "She won't listen to me, Lala," he said, using his pet name for my mother. Was that how he'd talked to Sea? No wonder she'd run off.

Layla turned to me. "Where would she go?"

I shrugged, even though I was pretty sure I knew the answer.

She sighed heavily, grabbed the cordless phone, and took it into the kitchen. I figured she was calling the Sip-n-Stop, to check in with Jesse. Sure enough, she came back into the living room a minute later. "Jess says she's probably at this kid Russ's house-says you know where it is. I want you to bring her home."

"Why should I do your dirty work?" I asked.

"Don't give me any lip, Critter," she shot back. "Besides, I need to wait here in case Missy comes back on her own."

I should've let her have the last word, but staying quiet had never been a strength of mine. "If you'd have listened to me in the first place," I said in a calm, steady voice, "I wouldn't have to be chasing your daughter across the neighborhood."

Both she and Frank flinched when I said "daughter," which was exactly the response I was looking for.

I hadn't been to Russ Louten's house in ages. Not since the New Year's Eve party he'd hosted when I was a freshman. It wasn't a place I'd cared to go to very often.

But there I was, ringing the doorbell. Pasting on a fake smile when Russ himself answered the door.

"Christopher Carlisle," he drawled. "To what do I owe this honor?"

"I'm looking for Seattle," I said.

Russ grinned. "Yeah, I was expecting that."

"That so?"

"Well, I don't know too many guys who take kindly to strangers boffing their baby sisters."

I felt a rush of blood to my head. "What did you say?"

He cackled. "You heard me. Scooter says she's good, too. Real good. Surprised the h.e.l.l out of me. Her being so butch and all."

My fist cracked Russ's jaw so hard that he lost his balance and crashed to the floor. I was leaning down to take another shot when I saw him in the doorway. Skater Boy. I was so busy looking his way that Russ might've popped me one, if his cousin hadn't rushed over and grabbed his arm.

"Settle down, boys," he said.

But my punch had split open Russ's bottom lip, and once he'd had a taste of blood, he could barely be restrained. I felt a little panicky. I wasn't much of a fighter. In fact, I'd never really thrown a punch before that day. Thankfully, Skater Boy did me a favor and dragged Russ back into the house, shutting the door behind them. I decided to wait on the front stoop. I figured Skater Boy knew who I was really looking for, and I was sure he'd come out once he'd gotten Russ squared away.

I figured right. He came out maybe five minutes later, asked me what he could do for me. I stood up, gave him my most menacing glare, and said, "You can tell me where my sister is, for starters."

"You just missed her. She came here to get her board and then took off." When I asked him where she was headed, he said he didn't know. "I do know she was trying to get away from you, though."

"Me? What the h.e.l.l's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged. "She was upset about something. Said one of her brothers would come looking for her here. I guess she was right."

It sounded wrong. Usually, when Sea was upset, I was the first person she ran to. I could see why she wouldn't want to go back to the house and deal with Frank, but to run away from me? It didn't make any sense.

"Anything else I can help you with?" Skater Boy asked.

I didn't like the smugness of his tone. It made me wish I'd decked him after all.

"Yeah," I said. "You can tell me you're not s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g my sister."

"I don't think that's any of your business, Critter."

I hated the way he said my name, like it was natural, like we were friends. I gathered some saliva and spat on the sidewalk to my left. "I think it is my business," I said. "And I better not find out that's what's going on."

"Why's that?"

" 'Cause I know you're not from around here. And if you think I'm going to let some snot-nosed skate rat break my sister's heart over a stupid summer fling, you've got another think coming."

He chuckled. "I don't think you have to worry about that. Your sister doesn't want anything to do with me, okay?"

"Why? What'd you do to her?"

"Oh, for Christ's sake," he said. "Nothing happened. I was trying to talk to her, she wigged out, and that's that. So why don't you take your drama somewhere else?"

There was something about the way he spoke that made me think there was truth in his words. Russ's trash talking was probably just that- trash. Still, I said, "You'd better not give me anything to worry about," which I'd meant to sound tough but which came out as more of a whine.

Even so, I couldn't help smiling as I walked away. If Skater Boy really had slept with Sea, he would've either boasted about the conquest or denied it so strongly I'd know he was lying. I was reasonably certain he hadn't been scoring any home runs on Seattle's field. I felt relieved, but it wasn't until I reached the Sip-n-Stop that I bothered to ask myself why.

Jesse was ringing up a string of customers when I got to the store. One of his rules was that we couldn't talk to him until his line was clear. To kill time I opened the hot dog case and helped myself to a Big-n-Juicy. I'd just finished heaping on a mess of sauerkraut when Jess finally got free.

"I take it you didn't find her," he said.

"Nope."

"Good to see your appet.i.te hasn't been affected. Do you even have money for that?"