I didn't say anything. How could I? I mean, the poor guy looked so pathetic lying there. I didn't want to give him more to worry about. But the truth was, I couldn't possibly wait for Father Dom to get out of the hospital. Heather meant business. With every day that passed, she would only get stronger and nastier, and more filled with hate. I had to get rid of her, and I had to get rid of her soon.

So I committed what I'm sure must be some kind of mortal sin. I lied to a priest.

Good thing I'm not Catholic.

"Don't worry, Father Dom," I said. "I'll wait till you're feeling better."

Father Dominic was no dummy, though. He went, "Promise me, Susannah."

I said, "I promise."

I had my fingers crossed, of course. I hoped that, if there was a god, this would cancel out the sin of lying to one of his most deserving servants.

"Let me see," Father Dominic was murmuring. "We'll need holy water, of course. That's no problem. And of course a crucifix."

As he was muttering over his exorcism grocery list, Adam and Cee Cee came into the room.

"Hey, Father Dom," Adam said. "Boy, do you look terrible."

Cee Cee elbowed him. "Adam," she hissed. Then, to the father, she said brightly, "Don't listen to him, Father Dom. I think you look great. Well, for a guy with a bunch of broken bones, I mean."

"Children." Father Dominic looked really happy to see them. "What a delight! But why are you wasting a beautiful afternoon like this one visiting an old man in a hospital? You ought to be down at the beach enjoying the nice weather."

"We're actually here doing an article for the Mission News about the accident," Cee Cee said. "We just got done interviewing the monsignor. It's really unfortunate, about the archbishop coming, and all, and the statue of Father Serra not having a head."

"Yeah," Adam said. "A real bummer."

"Well," Father Dominic said. "Never mind that. It's the caring spirit of you children that should most impress the archbishop."

"Amen," said Adam solemnly.

Before either of us had a chance to berate Adam for being sarcastic, a nurse came in and told Cee Cee and I that we had to leave because she had to give Father Dom his sponge bath.

"Sponge bath," Adam grumbled as we made our way back to the car. "Father Dom gets a sponge bath, but me, a guy who can actually appreciate something like that, what do I get?"

"A chance to play chauffeur to the two most beautiful girls in Carmel?" Cee Cee offered, helpfully.

"Yeah," Adam said. "Right." Then he glanced at me. "Not that you aren't the most beautiful girl in Carmel, Suze....I just meant... Well, you know...."

"I know," I said, with a smile.

"I mean, a sponge bath. And did you get a look at that nurse?" Adam held the passenger seat forward so Cee Cee could crawl into the backseat. "There must be something to this priest thing. Maybe I should enroll."

From the backseat Cee Cee said, "You don't enroll, you receive a calling. And believe me, Adam, you wouldn't like it. They don't let priests play Nintendo."

Adam digested this. "Maybe I could form a new order," he said, thoughtfully. "Like the Franciscans, only we'd be the Joystick Order. Our motto would be High Score for One, Pizza for All."

Cee Cee said, "Look out for that seagull."

We were on Carmel Beach Road. Just beyond the low stone wall to our right was the Pacific, lit up like a jewel by the enormous yellow ball of sun hovering above it. I guess I must have been looking at it a little longingly – I still hadn't gotten used to seeing it all the time – because Adam went, "Aw, hell," and zipped into a parking space that a BMW had just vacated. I looked at him questioningly' as he threw the car into park, and he said, "What? You don't have time to sit and watch the sunset?"

I was out of the car in a flash.

How, I wondered a little while later, had I ever not looked forward to moving here? Sitting on a blanket Adam had extricated from the trunk of his car, watching the joggers and the evening surfers, the Frisbee-catching dogs and the tourists with their cameras, I felt better than I had in a long time. It might have been the fact that I was still operating on about four hours of sleep. It might have been that the heavy odor of brine was clouding my senses. But I really felt, for the first time in what seemed like forever, at peace.

Which was weird, considering the fact that in a few hours, I was going to be doing battle with the forces of evil.

But until then, I decided to enjoy myself. I turned my face toward the setting sun, feeling its warming rays on my cheeks, and listened to the roaring of the waves, the shrieking of the gulls, and the chatter of Cee Cee and Adam.

"So I said to her, Claire, you're nearly forty. If you and Paul want to have another kid, you had better hurry. Time is not on your side." Adam sipped a latte he'd picked up from a coffee shop near where we'd parked. "And she was all, 'But your father and I don't want you to feel threatened by the new baby,' and I was like, 'Claire, babies don't threaten me.' You know what makes me feel threatened? Steroid-popping Neanderthals like Brad Ackerman. They threaten me."

Cee Cee shot Adam a warning look, then looked at me. "How are you getting along with your new stepbrothers, Suze?"

I tore my eyes away from the setting sun. "All right, I guess. Does Do – I mean, Brad really take steroids?"

Adam said, "I shouldn't have mentioned that. I'm sorry. I'm sure he doesn't. All those guys on the wrestling team, though – they scare me. And they're so homophobic ... well, you can't help wondering about their sexual orientation. I mean, they all think I'm gay, but you wouldn't catch me in a pair of tights grabbing at some other guy's inner thigh."

I felt a need to apologize for my stepbrother, and did so, adding, "I'm not so sure he's gay. He got very excited when Kelly Prescott called the other night and invited us to her pool party on Saturday."

Adam whistled, and Cee Cee said unexpectedly, "Well, well, well. Are you sure this blanket is good enough for you? Maybe you would prefer a cashmere beach blanket. That's what Kelly and all her friends sit on."

I blinked at them, realizing I'd just committed a faux pas. "Oh, I'm sorry. Kelly didn't invite you guys? But I just assumed she was inviting all the sophomores."

"Certainly not," Cee Cee said with a sniff. "Just the sophomores with status, which Adam and I definitely lack."

"But you," I said, "are the editor of the school paper."

"Right," Adam said. "Translate that into dork and you'll have an idea why we've never been invited to any of Princess Kelly's pool parties."

"Oh," I said. I was quiet for a minute, listening to the waves. Then I said, "Well, it's not like I was planning on going."

"You weren't?" Cee Cee's eyes bugged out behind her glasses.

"No. At first because I had a date with Bryce, which is off now. But now because ... well, if you guys aren't going, who would I talk to?"

Cee Cee leaned back on the blanket. "Suze," she said. "Have you ever considered running for class VP?"

I laughed. "Oh, right. I'm the new kid, remember?"

"Yeah," Adam said. "But there's something about you. I saw real leadership potential in the way you trounced Debbie Mancuso yesterday. Guys always admire girls who look as if any minute they might punch another girl in the mouth. We just can't help it." He shrugged. "Maybe it's in the genes."

"Well," I said with a laugh. "I'll certainly take it under advisement. I did hear a rumor Kelly was planning on blowing the entire class budget on some kind of dance – "

"Right." Cee Cee nodded. "She does that every year. The stupid spring dance. It's so boring. I mean, if you don't have a boyfriend, what is the point? There's nothing to do there but dance."

"Wait," Adam said. "Remember that time we brought the water balloons?"

"Well," Cee Cee amended. "Okay, that year was fun."

"I was kind of thinking," I heard myself saying, "that something like this might be better. You know. A cookout at the beach. Maybe a couple of them."

"Hey," Adam said. "Yeah! And a bonfire! The pyro in me has always wanted to do a bonfire on the beach."

Cee Cee said, "Totally. That's totally what we should do. Suze, you've got to run for VP."

Holy smoke, what had I done? I didn't want to be sophomore class VP! I didn't want to get involved! I had no school spirit – I had no opinion on anything! What was I doing? Had I lost my mind?

"Oh, look," Adam said, pointing suddenly at the sun. "There it goes."

The great orange ball seemed to sink into the sea as it began its slow descent below the horizon. I didn't see any splashing or steam, but I could have sworn I heard it hit the water's surface.

"There goes the sun," Cee Cee sang softly.

"Da da da da da," Adam said.

"There goes the sun." I joined in.

Okay, I have to admit, it was kind of childish, sitting there singing, watching the sun go down. But it was also kind of fun. Back in New York, we used to sit in the park and watch the undercover cops arrest drug dealers. But that wasn't anywhere near as nice as this, singing happily on a beach as the sun went down.

Something strange was happening. I wasn't sure what it was.

"And I say," the three of us sang, "it's all right!"

And, strangely enough, at that moment, I actually believed it would be. All right, I mean.

And that's when I realized what was happening:

I was fitting in. Me, Susannah Simon, mediator. I was fitting in somewhere for the first time in my life.

And I was happy about it. Really happy. I actually believed, just then, that everything was going to be all right.

Boy, was I ever in denial.

CHAPTER 17

My alarm went off at midnight. I didn't hit the snooze button. I turned it off, clapped my hands to turn on the bedside lamp, rolled over, and stared at the canopy over my bed.

This was it. D-day. Or E-day, I should have called it.

I'd been so tired after dinner, I knew I'd never make it without a nap. I told my mother I was going upstairs to do homework, and then I'd lain down with the intention of sacking out for a few hours. Back in our old place in Brooklyn, this wouldn't have been a problem. My mom would have left me alone like I asked. But in the Ackerman household, the words I want to be alone were apparently completely meaningless. And not because the place is crawling with ghosts, either. No, it was the living who kept on bugging me for a change.

First it was Dopey. When I'd sat down to another gourmet dinner, immaculately prepared by my new stepfather, an interrogation of sorts had begun because I had ended up not getting home until after six. There was the usual "Where were you?" from my mother (even though I'd so conscientiously left her that explanatory message). Then a "Did you have fun?" from Andy. And then there was a "Who'd you go with?" from, of all people, Doc. And when I said, "Adam McTavish and Cee Cee Webb," Dopey actually snorted disgustedly and, chewing on a meatball, said, "Christ. The class freaks."

Andy said, "Hey. Watch it."

"Well, jeez, Dad," Dopey said. "One's a freakin' albino and the other's a fag."

This earned him a very hard wallop on the head from his father, who also grounded him for a week. Meaning, I couldn't help pointing out to Dopey later as we were clearing our plates from the table, that he would be unable to attend Kelly Prescott's pool party, which, by the way, I – Queen of the Freaks – had gotten him invited to.

"Too bad, bubby," I said, giving Dopey a sympathetic pat on the cheek.

He slapped my hand away. "Yeah?" he said. "Well, at least nobody'll be callin' me a fag hag tomorrow."

"Oh, sweetie," I said. I reached out and tweaked the cheek I'd just patted. "You'll never have to worry about people calling you that. They call you much worse things."

He hit my hand again, his fury apparently so great, it rendered him temporarily speechless.

"Promise me you'll never change," I begged him. "You're so adorable just the way you are."

Dopey called me a very bad name just as his father entered the kitchen with the remains of the salad.

Andy grounded him for another week, and then sent him to his room. To show his unhappiness with this turn of events, Dopey put on the Beastie Boys and played them at such high decibels that sleep was impossible for me... at least until Andy came up and took away Dopey's speakers. Then everything got very quiet, and I was just about to doze off when someone tapped at my door. It was Doc.