Playing sick on the remaining day of camp, I didn't see anyone until the following day when they were all loading the busses.

Everyone knew that Summer and I were not on speaking terms, and I just hoped that she hadn't told anyone what had happened between us. I highly doubt that she did blab to anyone. I couldn't picture her saying She's mad at me because I'm prettier than her and guys like me better.

She had always known that was true. But we were sisters. And she would never say it out loud.

Sheryl let me share her bed when we got home. On our first night back, I was lying next to her under too many blankets because I didn't have the heart to tell her that I was roasting like a turkey.

"I sure hope you don't snore," she muttered.

I laughed miserably. Usually it was Summer who warned me not to snore. A fat teardrop slipped down my cheek. "I can't promise anything," I murmured.

"Are you okay?" she asked, obviously hearing the tightness in my voice.

"I'm throwing my family away," I whispered, and then I hated myself as the first tear brought torrents.

"Why, because you and Summer aren't getting along?" Sheryl asked.

I nodded, forgetting she couldn't see me in the dark.

"Lyric, that's stupid," she said, her Southern voice coated with annoyance. "You'll make up. She's still your family. She still loves you. You and Sky are all she has left."

"I don't know what I'm doing…" I did not trust my voice to go any louder than a whisper. "Never felt so lonely before, you know?"

"Listen, Summer loves you, and so does Sky even though he's a jerk, and me and Daddy are happy you're here now."

"You barely know us."

"But you're our family." I could feel her shrug next to me. "Before it was just me and him. And now we've got all you guys." She went quiet in the dark for a moment, and I just waited for her to say something. "I never had a sister before."

Smiling, touched by the ten-year-olds willingness to be there for me, I told her, "Yeah, well, Summer would be more than happy to give me to you."

A grand idea popped into Uncle Bill's head on our last morning of freedom before school started the next day. Why not have a barbecue to celebrate the end of summer? As far as I was concerned, "the end of summer" was not an event one usually celebrates, but we went along with it anyway. Sky invited Petey over, and Summer asked Ronnie. I figured I could hang out with Sheryl. But then I found out that Coach Boone and his family would be coming, and Sheryl was friends with his daughter…so grrr.

Handing me ten dollars, Uncle Bill asked me if I would run to the neighbourhood grocery store and pick up a few items that he had written down on the list.

I took Sheryl with me. On our way home, I was walking on the street, struggling with a bag of charcoal, and she was walking beside me up on the sidewalk, picking leaves off of trees.

"We should have gotten donuts," she sighed.

"Mmm," I said sarcastically. "Maple frosted donuts with a side of charred animal flesh…sounds tantalizing."

"Hey, look! There's Alan!" she cried, pointing up the street, to where he was browsing around a newspaper stand with a cookie in his hand. "ALAN!"

Alan glanced up at the sound of his name being called, saw us, and gave a little wave.

Sheryl took off running to him, while I trailed behind lugging the charcoal.

"--and there'll be corn on the cob and everything!" Sheryl was busy explaining to Alan when I caught up to them.

"Sounds good," he said, and then looked at me. "Hi Lyric."

I shifted the bag to my other arm, noticed I had charcoal dust smeared all over my shoulder and switched the bag back to cover it up. "Hi."

"So, Sheryl was telling me about a barbecue Coach is throwing?"

"You should come!" Sheryl offered.

He raised his eyebrows, and then glanced over at me as if asking for permission.

I shrugged, smirking slightly. "Sure, why not. Summer needs a date."

His expression turned confused; almost hurt. I had been going for the dig, and I apparently succeeded. I immediately felt bad. Alan was a straightforward, sweet, happy-go-lucky guy, and I doubted he was used to being hurt intentionally. Come to think of it, I wasn't used to being the one to intentionally hurt someone else.

"I'll think about it," he said at last. "Here, I'll take that charcoal for you before you strain something."

Laughing, I allowed him to take it from my arms. "You're barely bigger than me."

"Yeah but I got BRAWN."

Cackling, I said, "Whatever BRAWN is." I looked over at Sheryl. "Here, Sheryl, let me take that bottle of barbecue sauce from you before you strain something and so I can look all strong and brawny like my hero Alan here."