I laughed, but something about what Alexandra had just said didn't sound quite right. I couldn't think what was wrong about it, though.

Oh, well.

"Listen," I said, "my name's Mary Anne Spier."

"I'm Alexandra Carmody. But call me Alex."

"Okay, Alex," I said.

"So, what trip is this for you?" she asked.

"What trip?" I repeated blankly.

"Yeah. I've been on thirteen other cruises. This one's my fourteenth." (Maybe she'd gone with her aunt. Or when she was filming a movie.) "Wow. This is only my first."

"Once we sailed all the way from New York to England."

"Gosh. . . . Who's 'we'? Your brother and you?"

"Oh, no. Just my, um, guardian."

"Oh." Alex looked pained, so I changed the subject. "Guess who is on this boat," I said dramatically.

"Who?"

"Spider."

"From the Insects?"

"Yup."

Alex frowned. "No, he isn't. I happen to know him really well. He's a good friend of mine."

I'd forgotten. She was an actress. Of course she'd know. How exciting to be in on the personal lives of famous people!

Suddenly I wanted to find out all about Alex. I decided to do something really daring. I hoped it wasn't mean. "So," I said, "how come you're traveling ..."

Before the words were out of my mouth, I realized what was wrong with what Alex had said before. In the beauty parlor she'd said she was traveling alone. I was sure of it. But today she had mentioned her brother. If he'd seen her haircut, then he was on the Ocean Princess, too. And that meant Alex wasn't alone after all.

I quickly changed my question. "How come you aren't traveling with your parents?" (I had to know if they'd been killed. I just had to. I was dying of morbid curiosity.) Alex hung her head. "My parents were - were killed. In a car accident. Six months ago. Now I'm an orphan."

"Oh!" I cried. I was horrified. "I'm so sorry. Thaf s terrible."

"I know." Alex's eyes filled with tears. "You can't imagine how it feels."

"No," I replied. "Well, maybe I can. Just a little. See, my mom died when I was a baby. I never knew her. I guess I'm a half-orphan." The idea had just occurred to me. "I wish I had known her."

Alex looked at me sympathetically.

She was about to say something more when Jordan ran to me breathlessly.

"Mary Anne, we've tried everything and we've looked everywhere," he complained. "We haven't found a thing."

"I better go," Alex said quickly. "You look busy."

I tried to say good-bye to her and listen to Jordan at the same time.

"And we have four levels to go and the boaf s going to dock in Port Canaveral," he continued, sounding whiny. "And then the cruise will be over."

"But we can still search for treasure at Disney World!" exclaimed Nicky.

"Yeah!" cried the others, brightening.

Their smiles returned, but mine didn't. I felt very thoughtful. I couldn't stop thinking about Alex. I felt really sorry for her, but I also felt close to her. You don't know how it feels to lose a parent or to grow up without one unless it has actually happened to you.

I knew I had found a true friend.

I just couldn't figure out why she had lied to me about traveling alone.

Stacey.

My day with the Pike girls began a little differently than Mary Anne's day with the Pike boys. The Pike boys knew exactly what they wanted to do. So did the Pike girls. Only they didn't want to do the same things.

Claire and Margo wanted to go to the stores, the children's pool, and the video arcade, in that order. Vanessa wanted to read. Period. She was reading Baby Island, and she was two-thirds of the way through and wanted to sit up on the Sun Deck all morning so she could finish it before the boat docked in Port Canaveral.

A fight was brewing. I couldn't help but think of Marc Kubacki while the kids argued. There was probably very little that he could do. The Pikes were lucky to have so many choices.

"I want to play Centipede!" Claire cried.

"Sun Deck!" Vanessa replied loudly.

"Donkey Kong! Shopping!" said Margo.

"Reading!" shouted Vanessa.

"Girls, girls, girls," I interrupted. "Now hold on and let me think. There must be some way to solve this." (And I thought I was going to have an easy day, with the boys out of my hair.) "I can help you solve it," spoke up Mallory. She was standing in the doorway to our cabin. "I want to go to the Sun Deck to read, too," she said, and I noticed the copy of The Princess and the Goblin in her hand. "Why don't I just take Vanessa with me? I don't mind watching her."

Vanessa looked at me hopefully.

"If your parents say it's okay, that would be great," I told the girls. I knew Mallory was capable of watching Vanessa. She's very responsible.

So we got the Pikes' permission, and the two happy bookworms headed for the Sun Deck. Then I took Claire and Margo by the hands and the three of us headed for the stores.

"What is it you want to buy?" I asked them.

"Gum," said Margo.

"AT sewer-ear," said Claire.

"A sewer-ear?" I repeated.

"She means a souvenir," said Margo with-eringly.

We made a tour of the shops. Margo got her gum, and Claire bought a gaudy pencil that said "Ocean Princess" on it. Then they took a dip in the pool, as planned, and finally, dried off and refreshed, they set out for the video arcade. I followed, carrying their towels, the gum, the pencil, and five dollars from Mrs. Pike that she had said we could change into quarters for the games. I wondered what Marc Kubacki was up to just then.

And believe it or not, halfway between the stores and the video arcade, we ran into Marc and his father.

"Hi, Marc!" I said.

"Hi, Stacey."

At the exchange of h.e.l.los, Claire and Margo halted and turned around. They stared at Marc and his wheelchair, and then came back to us, looking curious.

Please, I begged them silently, don't say anything embarra.s.sing.

"Where are you off to?" I asked the Ku-backis.

"We're just taking a walk," said Marc.

Claire had stepped all the way up to the wheelchair and was standing directly in front of Marc. "We're going to the video arcade," she told him.

"The video arcade?" Marc repeated. He gave his father a pointed look, but I wasn't sure what the look meant.

There was a moment of strained silence. I broke it by saying, "I guess you guys don't know each other. Claire and Margo, this is Marc Kubacki and his father. I met them a couple of days ago. And this is Claire Pike," I went on, touching Claire on the head, "and Margo Pike."

Everyone said hi and I tried to explain to the girls how I knew Marc, and to Marc why I was with the Pikes.

Claire showed Marc her new pencil.

"Awesome!" said Marc.

Claire grinned. "How old are you?"

"Seven," Marc replied.

"My age!" exclaimed Margo. "You're seven?"

"I'm a little small."

"Not smaller than me," said Claire defensively. "I'm five," she added.

"Do you like video games?" Margo asked Marc, and I knew she wanted to get going.

"Yes, I do," he answered, giving his father that look again.

Mr. Kubacki shrugged. "That video arcade is so noisy," he said to me. "I'd do almost anything for Marc, but ten minutes in one of those places drives me crazy."

"Want to come with us, Marc?" asked Claire.

I glanced at Mr. Kubacki, remembering how protective he was of his son.

"I don't know. . . ." said Marc's father.

At least he hadn't said no. Marc began to look hopeful. "Could I?" he asked, looking from his father to me.

"If s fine with me," I told Mr. Kubacki. "We'd be glad to have Marc along."

"That way you could go take your swim," Marc said to his father.

"Well," replied Mr. Kubacki, "all right. I'm sure you're responsible." He was probably thinking about my diabetes, and my diet, and my insulin shots, which we had talked about the night I met the Kubackis.

"Yea!" cried Marc. "Thanks, Dad."

We made arrangements for where and when to meet, and Mr. Kubacki gave me a few quick instructions. Then we separated. The girls pushed Marc's wheelchair toward the arcade and I walked behind them. A few seconds later, I glanced back. Mr. Kubacki was watching us worriedly. I waved to let him know that everything would be all right. He smiled and set off for the Sun Deck.

"So how come you have to ride in this wheelchair, anyway?" asked Margo.

I cringed. But Marc replied cheerfully, "I've got a bad heart."

"Can you walk?" asked Claire.

"Of course," said Marc, sounding insulted. "But I'm not supposed to. It makes my heart muscles work too hard. I can't do anything that's like exercise."

"But you can play video games, right?" said Margo.

"Sure - if I can sit up high enough."

Oops. That hadn't occurred to me. How was Marc going to reach the game controls from his sitting position? But we solved that problem as soon as we reached the arcade and got our quarters. One of the ship's stewards was nice enough to give Marc two big cushions to sit on. Then he even gave Marc, Claire, and Margo each a free game.

The kids' friendship was cemented.

They were so awed by the free games that all they could do was exdaim over their good luck. Then they started talking about Disney World and the rides.

"I can't wait to see the castle!" cried Margo.

"Oh, Margo-silly-billy-goo-goo - " Claire began, and Marc burst out laughing.

"Silly-billy-goo-goo!" he repeated.

Claire and Margo got the giggles.

When they calmed down, the three of them finally played some games. But in between, their conversation continued. I was just thinking that the girls seemed to have forgotten that Marc was wheelchair-bound, when Claire finished a game of Donkey Kong and ran to Marc urgently.

"How are you going to go on s.p.a.ce Mountain in your wheelchair?" she wanted to know. (s.p.a.ce Mountain is supposed to be the wildest ride at Disney World. If s a high-speed roller coaster through dark tunnels that look like outer s.p.a.ce.) "Oh, I can't go on s.p.a.ce Mountain," said Marc soberly. "I can get out of my wheelchair to go on quiet rides, but not on a roller coaster."

The three kids grew silent. It was as if the girls hadn't realized how sick Marc was until he said he couldn't go on s.p.a.ce Mountain.

They were about out of quarters then and we weren't going to meet Marc's father for another half an hour, so I made a suggestion. I hoped it would perk them up. "How about getting a treat at the ice-cream parlor?" I asked.