Selena! I need you!” It was my mom. A side effect none of us had expected was that Mom was now cranky as hell. She’d never been like that before. Everything seemed to bother her. How messy the house was getting, what Dad would make her to eat, the smells coming from Pat’s bedroom. I had always been Mom’s girl, her baby, but even I wasn’t immune. She flipped out when I put some special sweater of hers through the laundry.Honestly, I was a little afraid of her.“One sec!” I shouted upstairs. And then to Rennie I said, “Can you come over?” I hoped it was obvious in my voice. I didn’t want to be alone with my mom. I needed her.“Um . . .” I could hear her switching the phone from one ear to the other. “Actually, my mom needs my help with taking down some wallpaper. Sorry. I’ll call you later!”I was mad. I was so mad. But not at Rennie. At my mom. I blamed her for making my friend not want to come over, not Rennie for being a sucky friend. I trudged upstairs.Mom was in bed. Her eyes wer

As always, our class will be singing on Main Street during the Jar Island holiday tree lighting next Tuesday, which means we have a week to get these numbers in tip-top shape. So let’s dive right in!”He tinkles a few keys and we begin our standard warmups. It feels good to use my throat, to hear my voice blend into everyone else’s.Afterward Mr. Mayurnik says, “Great. Now that we’re good and warm, we need to figure out who will be singing our solos. Can all the sopranos to come to the front of the room.”I’m a soprano, so I stand up. As I squeeze through the rows, I get nervous. Instantly nervous. I do okay singing in the back of the class, but here, with everyone looking up at us, I feel my throat close up. My dad pops into my head, because he always says that I have a pretty voice. So pretty he makes me sing “Happy Birthday” twice before he’ll blow out his candles. He doesn’t even care that the cake gets covered in melted wax.But that memory doesn’t make things better. It makes me

I look to give the same rock signs to Mary, because I’m freaking proud of her for getting up in front of everyone like this, but I can’t find her, either. Where the hell has everyone gone?The mayor steps up to the podium and signals for the Christmas tree to turn on. And it does, for a second, before it flickers out. And all the other light too—the streetlamps, the shop windows, the traffic lights—until it’s completely dark out. Then everything starts flashing, on and off, like there’s some kind of issue with the power.Damn, does this whole island need to be rewired?I’m about to run for my life for the second time this year, but then everything clicks back on, good and strong, and everyone in the crowd applauds like it’s a true freaking Christmas miracle.Which, hell, maybe it is. But I’m bouncing out of here either way, to be safe.I’m at lunch with everyone on Wednesday when two sophomore girls nervously approach our table. They look so young, both of them, in jeans that are way

“Leonid . . . I feel wasted.” Her head sways from side to side, her hair hanging in her face. “Will you please take me home?”I peer at her. She’s had, like, two beers. I’ve seen her finish a sixpack in under an hour and not get tipsy. “Wow, I didn’t even see you drink that much,” I say.Rennie’s eyes suddenly snap into focus on me. “Maybe someone put something in my drink.”I reel back a step.Leonid stands up. “Ren, how much did you have?”“I don’t know . . .” Rennie moans, now back to acting wasted. “I lost count.” She’s totally putting on a show. She’s only been at the party for like thirty minutes, and a second ago she was fine. “I’ll drive myself home. I don’t want to make you leave.”“There’s no way in hell I’d let you drive like this,” he says, shaking his head.He helps her to her feet, and then he hoists her up and Rennie wraps her arms around his neck. “You’re the bestest, Leonid,” she sighs, closing her eyes and snuggling closer.“Go get your coat. I’ll meet you by the fro

The plant weighs a freaking ton, but I manage to carry it up to his front door. I hear the party going on inside, people cheering at something on television. I set the plant down on the ground, run my fingers quick through my curls, and ring the doorbell.Okay, Sophia. Showtime. I’m nervous, but I’m excited, too. To make things right, to fix what I’ve screwed up. To feel like myself again.The door opens, and it takes me a second to recognize the person who answers.Rennie. She folds her arms across her chest. She’s dressed in a football jersey and a pair of leggings, bare feet, her hair pulled up in a sloppy bun at the tippy top of her head. I feel completely ridiculous and wrong in my fancy clothes.“I can’t even believe you’d have the nerve to show up here,” she spits out.“I need to talk to Leonid,” I say.She lets out a harsh laugh. “You think he wants to talk to you? He’s through with you. He finally sees you for what you are. A f**king bitch.”Helplessly, I look past her into t