Second Star by Alyssa B. Sheinmel Page A

but the truth is, we were together for all the wrong reasons.”
    I press my hands together, trying to rub away the memory of his touch. “ Were together?”
    Pete nods. “Yeah. I broke up with her.”
    I swallow. “Look, I don’t want to be a home wrecker…”
    Pete smiles, and suddenly I’m furious.
    “Is this just some kind of joke to you? Am I a joke?”
    “Of course not,” Pete says quickly. “It’s just funny to think of you as a home wrecker. You probably have a nicer home than any of us.”
    I don’t say anything.
    Pete shakes his head. “Look. You’re not breaking up anything. Things went wrong with me and Belle a long time ago. But maybe it took meeting you for me to finally face it.”
    I take a deep breath, trying to ignore the warmth that creeps up from my belly at his words. “It doesn’t matter,” I say softly. “You’re not the reason I came back here.”
    “Why did you come back here?”
    “My brothers.”
    Pete shakes his head. “Wendy, I told you—”
    “I know, I know. You don’t know them. But they were here.”
    “How do you know that?”
    “I found a picture of Kensington in their room,” I say proudly. “ Perfect waves . They surfed this beach.”
    “Just because they were here once doesn’t mean—”
    I cut him off. “Someone here might remember them.”
    I think he’s about to contradict me, but instead he says, “Okay. Let me help you.”
    I’m surprised by his offer, but despite everything I’m not about to turn it down, either. After all, he’s the only person I know in Kensington, and I have to start somewhere. “How can you help?”
    “Well, for starters, I can give you a place to stay here in Kensington.”
    “What, at your house?”
    “Were you planning on camping out down here at the beach?”
    I shake my head, but the truth is, I haven’t planned much of anything at all.
    Pete smiles when he realizes I’m considering it. “There’s plenty of room,” he says, heading in the direction of the stairs. I can’t think of a better idea, so I follow him.
    “Just one thing, Wendy,” Pete says.
    “What’s that?”
    “We’ll have to make sure it’s cool with everyone.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “You’ll see.”
    On top of the cliffs, I get in my car, and this time I drive right into Pete’s driveway. He lifts my duffel bag from the backseat, where it’s wedged beneath John’s and Michael’s surfboards.
    In Pete’s living room, sitting on a beat-up couch, are three boys I recognize from the bonfire my first night here, their hair soaked from the sea, surfboards strewn on the floor around them. Perched on top of the kitchen counter off to the side of the room is Belle, her board lying flat beside her. It’s at least twice as tall as she is.
    Pete and I have barely stepped inside the front door when Belle says, “What’s she doing here?” The other boys look from Belle to Pete to me, waiting for an explanation.
    Before Pete can say a word, I begin speaking.
    “I’m Wendy,” I say, avoiding the angry look in Belle’s steely gray eyes. “I’m— I’m just looking for a place to crash.” I haven’t forgotten what Pete told me the day we met: his friends won’t exactly warm to me if I show up and start peppering them with questions. Maybe if they know me first, if they think I’m here for my own reasons, they’ll begin to trust me.
    “Why?” Belle says. “You look like you’ve got a nice plush home to crash in somewhere.”
    I nod. “I do. My parents’ house down the coast. But I just can’t take being around them right now. It’s been a really rough year at home. My parents—they’re in a bad place, and I’m…” I pause. “I am, too, I guess. I just needed to come somewhere a little bit…” I bite my lip, looking out the window at the setting sun. “To get away, I guess.”
    I take a deep breath, before I add, “And I want to learn to surf.”
    The three boys glance at one another, then at Belle. Finally, one of