I stared at Jonah for a long moment, then swallowed nervously.

“I—I don’t know how to answer that question,” I stammered. “I mean—I don’t think I’m ready to go all the way with anyone right now.”

Jonah raised his eyebrow.

I shook my head. “All I know is that I would definitely like to kiss him, and maybe even do some… exploratory fondling. You know, so I can get the lay of the land.”

That made Jonah laugh. “Okay, okay, how exploratory are we talking here, Millie?”

I felt my face flushing hot, and when Jonah smiled at me, I knew I was blushing.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“Come on—”

“I seriously don’t, Jonah. I’m a total noob about this kind of thing.”

He cocked his head and frowned. “Really? Like, how inexperienced are we talking here? Do you need the birds and the bees talk or what?”

I pushed my hand through my messy hair. “I mean that I kissed a boy a couple of times at sleepaway camp last summer—”

“You didn’t tell me that!” Jonah said, looking shocked and amused.

I ignored him. “But I’ve never done anything else.”

He looked at me closely. “Wait, like nothing else?”

“Nothing else,” I confirmed.

“Just kissing?”

“Yeah.”

He glanced over at the clock again, then sighed. “Okay,” he said, coming back into the room and sitting on the bed. “We’re going to transition away from calculus, and I’m going to give you some tips on how to round third base, should the need arise.”

“What?” I asked, shocked. My face was on fire now.

“Relax—which is going to be my first tip, actually, because you’re not trying to choke out a chicken. You’re going to want to start slow…”

***

The next morning I woke up before the sun came up. I wasn’t meaning to—I hadn’t set my alarm or anything—but when my eyes opened, the room was still dark. Despite the dimness, I got out of bed, ready to run.

I pulled on my running clothes and walked quietly downstairs before I put on my shoes, then headed out into the freshness of the morning. I wasn’t really thinking about it, but my feet turned me in the direction of High Head Beach. I wasn’t planning on going back to the beach, but now that I was headed that way, my curiosity was piqued, and I wondered what it looked like this morning.

I passed the fishermen, who waved to me as I ran by, then rounded the dunes to High Head and slowed to a stop.

I walked across the sand, breathing hard. There were still a lot of bones on the beach, so my parents hadn’t started any sort of removal process. Which made sense—they always liked to understand what they were dealing with before they took any action. The big difference was that today the stretch of beach with the bones was roped off, and a sign had been plunged into the sand that read “Do Not Remove.”

I didn’t see anyone around, so I just had to hope people were paying attention to the sign.

Turning, I headed off the beach and ran back to the house. No one was up when I walked in, so the house was still dim and quiet. I headed into the kitchen and poured a glass of water, then made some breakfast of yogurt and fresh blueberries.

Finished, I headed upstairs and hopped into the shower. The cookout festivities started early, so as soon as I got out of the shower, I pulled on the bikini and the yellow sundress.

I didn’t usually do a lot of makeup, but today was a special day, so I actually stood in my bathroom and took my time. I wanted to find the right balance between looking like I made an effort, but also not putting too much on. The cookout was on the beach—hence the bikini—and I wanted to get in the water without worrying about makeup running down my face.

An hour later, I leaned away from the mirror, feeling like I had managed it. Satisfied, I headed downstairs, where I found my dad at the dining room table.

But he wasn’t looking at a book. He was holding that weird bone key we’d found.

He looked up when he heard me coming down the stairs, and his face broke into a smile. “Camilla, you look great.”

“Thanks,” I said, spinning around so my dress whirled around me.

This made his smile slip a little, and something sad crossed his expression. “You look so grown up, my little Porpoise.”

My hand went to my hair. “Thanks,” I said, unsure of what to say to that.

He gave his head a little shake and looked down at the key again, then up at me. “Camilla, will you have a seat for a second?”

“Sure,” I said, coming over to the table. “What’s up?”

He looked at me gravely. “I need to talk to you.”