Leave me alone!” she said, trying to get around me and through the door. I

grabbed her by the arms and forced her to look at me.

“You want to tell me what the hell’s going on with you?” I asked,

furious.

She looked back, and I could see her eyes were hiding something dark,

yet she smiled at me joylessly.

“This is your world, Nicholas,” she replied calmly. “I’m living your life,

hanging out with your friends, and feeling like I don’t have a care in the

world. That’s how you are, and that’s how I’m supposed to be, too,” she

said and stepped back, pulling away from me.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“You’re out of control,” I hissed at her. I didn’t like who the girl I was in

love with was turning into. But when I thought about it, what she was doing

and how she was doing it were the same things I had done before I met her.

I was the one who got her into all this. It was my fault. It was my fault she

was destroying herself.

In a way, we’d switched roles. She had shown up and dragged me out of

The black hole I’d fallen into, but in doing so, she’d wound up taking my place.

Chapter 1 Noah

While I rolled the window of my mother’s car up and down, I couldn’t stop

thinking what the next hellish year had in store for me. I couldn’t stop

asking myself how we’d ended up like this, leaving our home to cross the

country on our way to California. Three months had passed since I’d gotten

the terrible news that would change my life forever, the same news that

would make me want to cry at night, that would make me rant and rave like

I was eleven instead of seventeen.

But what could I do? I wasn’t an adult. I had eleven months, three

weeks, and two days to go before I turned eighteen and could go away to

college, far away from a mother who only thought about herself, far from

these strangers I’d end up living with, because from now on I would have to

share my life with two people I knew nothing about—two men, to make

matters worse.

“Can you stop doing that? You’re getting on my nerves,” my mother said

as she put the keys in the ignition and started the car.

“Lots of things you do get on my nerves, and I have to put up and shut

up,” I hissed back. The loud sigh I heard in reply was so routine, it didn’t

even surprise me.

How could she make me do this? Didn’t she even care about my

feelings? Of course I do, she’d told me as we were leaving my beloved hometown. Six years had passed since my parents split—and nothing about

their divorce had been conventional, let alone amicable. It had been

incredibly traumatic, but in the end, I’d gotten over it…or, at least, I was

trying to.

It was hard for me to adapt to change; I was terrified of strangers. I’m

not timid, but I’m reserved about my private life, and having to share

twenty-four hours of every day with two people I barely knew made me so

anxious, I wanted to get out of the car and throw up.

“I still can’t understand why you won’t let me stay,” I said, trying to

convince her one last time. “I’m not a little girl. I know how to take care of

myself. Plus, I’ll be in college next year, and I’ll be living on my own in

another country then. It’s basically the same thing,” I argued, trying to get

her to see the light and knowing that everything I was saying was true.

“I’m not going to miss out on your last year in high school. I want to

enjoy my daughter before she goes away to study. I told you a thousand

times, Noah—you’re my child, I want you to be part of this new family. For

God’s sake! You really think I’m going to let you go that far away from me

without a single adult?” she answered, keeping her eyes on the road and

gesturing with her right hand.

My mother didn’t understand how hard this was for me. She was starting

a new life with a new husband she supposedly loved. But what about me?

“You don’t get it, Mom. Did you never stop to think that this is my last

year of high school? That all my friends are here, my boyfriend, my job, my

team? My whole life!” I shouted, trying to hold back tears. The situation

was getting the best of me, that much was clear. I never, and I mean never,

cried in front of anyone. Crying was for weaklings, people who can’t

control their feelings. I was someone who’d cried so much in the course of

my life that I’d decided never to shed another tear.

Those thoughts reminded me of when all the madness began. I still

regretted not going with my mother on that damn cruise to Fiji. Because it

was there, on a boat in the middle of the South Pacific, that she’d met the

incredible, enigmatic William Leiste.

If I could go back in time, I wouldn’t hesitate a second to tell my mother

yes when she showed up in the middle of April with two tickets so we could

go on vacation together. They’d been a present from her best friend, Alicia.

The poor thing had broken her right leg, an arm, and two ribs in a car

accident. Obviously, she and her husband couldn’t go off to the islands, so

she gave the trip to my mom. But come on now—mid-April? I was in the

middle of exams, and the volleyball team had back-to-back games. My

team had just climbed from second place to first, and that hadn’t happened

as long as I could remember. It was one of the greatest joys of my life. Now,

though, seeing the consequences of staying home, I’d happily give back my

trophy, leave the team, and fail English Lit and Spanish just to keep that

wedding from ever happening.

Getting married on a ship? My mother was out of her mind! And going

and doing it without telling me a single word! I found out when she got

back, and she said it all blithely, like marrying a millionaire in the middle of

the ocean was the most normal thing in the world. The whole situation was

surreal, and now she wanted to move to a mansion in California, in the

United States. It wasn’t even my country! I had been born in Canada, even

if my mom was from Texas and my dad from Colorado. I didn’t want to

leave. It was everything I knew.

“Now, you have to realize I want what’s best for you,” my mother said,

bringing me back to reality. “You know what I’ve been through, what we’ve

been through. And I’ve finally found a good man who loves and respects

me. I haven’t felt this happy in a long time. I need him, and I know you’ll

come to love him. And he can offer you a future we could never have

dreamed of before. You can go to any college you like, Noah.”

“But I don’t want to go to some fancy college, Mom, and I don’t want a

stranger paying for it,” I replied, feeling a shiver as I thought how, at the

end of the month, I’d be starting at a new fancy high school full of little rich

kids.

“He’s not a stranger, he’s my husband, and you better get used to the

idea,” she added cuttingly.

I’m never going to get used to the idea,” I said, looking away from her

face to the road.

My mother sighed again, and I wished the conversation would just end—

I didn’t want to go on talking.

“I get that you’re going to miss Dan and all your friends, Noah, but look

on the bright side—you’re going to have a brother!” she exclaimed.

I turned to her with a weary look.

“Please don’t try to sell this like something it’s not.”

“You’re going to love him, though. Nick is a sweetheart,” she told me,

smiling as she gazed down the highway. “He’s mature, responsible, and he’s

probably dying to introduce you to all his pals. Every time I’ve been there

and he’s around, he’s stayed in his room studying or reading a book. You

might even have the same tastes.”

“Yeah, right. I’m sure he’s crazy about Jane Austen.” I rolled my eyes.

“How old is he again?” I knew, of course; all my mother had talked about

for months was him and Will. It was ironic that for some reason Nick had

never managed to find a hole in his schedule to introduce himself to me.

Moving in with a new family before I’d even met all the members of it just

kind of summed up how crazy this all was.

“He’s a little older than you, but you’re more mature than most girls your

age. You’ll get along great.”

Now she was kissing up to me. Mature. I still wasn’t sure whether that

word defined me, and I doubted a guy who was nearly twenty-two would

really feel like showing me the city or letting me meet his friends. If I even

wanted to, which was a whole different question.

“We’re here,” my mother announced.

I looked at the tall palm trees and the streets between the monumental

mansions. Each house took up at least half a block. Some were English Or Victoria style; lots of others were modern with glass walls and huge yards.

I started to get scared as we continued up the road and the houses got bigger

and bigger.

At last we reached a set of immense gates, ten feet high, and when my

mother pulled a small device out of the glove box and pushed the button,

they started to open. She put the car back in gear, and we went down a hill

surrounded by gardens and tall pines that smelled pleasantly of summer and

sea.

The house isn’t as high up as the others in the development, which

means we have the best views of the beach,” she remarked with a big smile.

I looked over at her, and it was as if I didn’t even know her. Did she not

realize what was surrounding us? Could she not see that it was all just too

much?

I didn’t have time to formulate the other questions I had aloud because

we reached the house and the only thing I could think to say was “Oh my

God!”

It was white with a sand-colored roof way up high. It had three stories at

least, but it was hard to tell with all those balconies, windows, and

everything else. In front of us was an impressive porch with the lights on—

it was after seven—and that gave the place a fairy-tale aspect. The sun

would go down soon, and the sky was filled with colors that marked a sharp

contrast to the immaculate appearance of the place.