Week one of summer, besides that one little planning session, had gone well. A little boring, but it had been okay. I lounged around, slept in, and hung out with Shea. What else do you need? Honestly, if the whole summer went like that, it'd be fine by me.

But by week two, summer's shine had considerably dulled.

The biggest bummer was that Shea was now at camp—sleepaway camp, and she'd be there for the next month. I'd already gotten a letter from her, but basically, now summer sucked. She'd tried to get me to come to camp, too, but I'd declined. Making lanyards and s'mores isn't exactly me. But Shea has been going to this camp since second grade, and she's got lots of friends there and stuff. So yeah.

And that wasn't all. That Tuesday—two days after Shea had departed—my Aunt Katharine dropped by. Aunt Katharine's way young. She's a whole lot younger than my mom. I'm not sure exactly how old she is, just…young.

Her husband's young, too—young and filthy rich! She started dating this guy, Dan, three years ago. I think he's about a year older than her. He's very buff, too. I think he works out a lot. He's tall and handsome and completely in love with Aunt Katharine. And last year they had a baby, Danielle. They were hoping for a boy to name "Daniel" after Uncle Dan, but they got a girl, so she's Danielle.

Anyway, that Tuesday, I was lying on the couch in my pajamas, scrolling through the songs on my iPod and vaguely considering taking a shower, when the doorbell rang. My mom was out running errands, so I went over to the door and opened it.

"Bailey!"

I blinked. "Uh, hi, Aunt Katharine." She was wearing skin-tight jeans, ridiculously high heels, and a neon pink tank top. This was one of her less noticeable outfits. I opened the door. "Uh, come in."

She came in, her heels clattering on the floor. Dan, carrying Danielle, followed, grinning at me.

Confused, I followed the three of them into the kitchen. "You need something, Aunt Katharine?" I asked.

She waved a pink-manicured hand carefreely. "Oh, no. Just thought we'd drop by. Is your mom here?"

"Uh, no. She'll be here soon." I was very aware of my appearance: I hadn't yet showered or put in my contacts, so it was probably not that great. "Do you want anything?"

"Oh, no, we'll just wait for your mom. So how have you been, Bailey? How's your summer going?"

"Uh, fine." I laid my iPod on the table. "Just kind of boring."

"You haven't met any cute boys?" Aunt Katharine wiggled her eyebrows in a way that made me want to throw up.

"Uh, no." Boy inventory for the summer: Brad Nickel, Brad Nickel, and Brad Nickel. Ew.

"That's okay. The summer's still young, after all. I'm sure you'll find someone."

I tried, I really, really did, not to make a face at that comment. But I couldn't do it. Luckily Aunt Katharine had already looked away, but I could tell from Uncle Dan's snigger that he'd caught the disgusted look on my face.

He set little Danielle on the floor, and she waddled over to me, arms outstretched. I picked her up. "Whoa, Danielle. You've gained weight," I said, holding her out to her dad.

Uncle Dan took her back. "Yeah, she's growing like a weed, alright."

"Please, Dan, do not refer to our child as a weed," Aunt Katharine said. "She's a gorgeous little girl."

"It's just an expression, honey," Dan said soothingly. I turned, rolled my eyes, and grabbed my iPod.

"Uh, guys, I gotta go take a shower," I said. "Just…help yourself to whatever. My mom should be back soon." Then I escaped up the stairs and into the bathroom.

I tried to take as long as possible showering and getting dressed, but when I went back downstairs, my mom hadn't yet arrived—sticking me with the responsibility of Katharine and Dan. Ugh.

Dan was watching something on ESPN when I entered the living room, and Katharine was flicking through one of my mom's magazines. Little Danielle was waddling around the room, trying to eat everything in sight.

"Uh," I said, coming into the room, by way of announcing myself. Katharine looked up at me briefly, but didn't say anything. I sat down on the couch next to Uncle Dan.

"Hey, kiddo." I hate the name kiddo. "What's new with you? Doing any sports?"

"No." I'd never participated in sports, not since I was about eight, anyway.

"Aw, no swimming? Tennis? Soccer?"

"Nope. Not my thing."

"Huh." Dan stroked his chin thoughtfully. He had very, very light stubble. "Then what is your thing?"

Of all the questions to ask, I thought dryly. I have an answer to almost everything. But this question—if I was going to answer honestly—had me stumped.

My thing? Did I have a thing? Besides moping and acting surly? Not really. Everybody has their thing, I realized, except me. Shea was a super-star trackster; that was her thing. Jen, Laura, and Dell all had their things, settling into distinct cliques around school. Laura was a hot blond. Her thing was, well, boys. Jen was basically a nerd. Dell was a jock. Normal school cliques, cliques you'd find everywhere.

But me? I was like a mutt, a mix of different stuff. If you saw me from across the street, you might consider me Goth or emo. I'm not, really. I mean, I listen to Pocahontas songs on my iPod, for Pete's sake. You might think I'm a cutter. But no, EW, I would not be able to cut myself.

Those are assumptions you'd make when you saw me. But I'm not really any of those things. I'm surlier than most kids my age, but that's, like, hereditary­­-my mom was, too! And as for things I do-huh. Just about nothing.

Uncle Dan's question really threw me for a loop there. Then what is your thing?

"Uh-uh-" I said, realizing Dan was expecting an answer, "I guess my thing is, like…laundry?"

"Laundry?" I could practically see Dan's thoughts: Okay, my niece is a freak. No big deal. Just don't let her baby-sit Danielle too much…

I felt myself blushing, so I got up, ready to run up to my room, out the door, or anywhere. But then I heard the garage door open and relief flooded through me. Mom was home! Now she could deal with her sister, and I was free to go. (Not like I had anywhere to go.)

A few minutes later my mom entered. She stopped when she noticed Aunt Katharine. "Katharine?" she asked, confused.

"Oh, Tibby!" Aunt Katharine jumped up and hugged my mom, who still looked puzzled. Her eyes searched out mine, and I shrugged. "Hi, Mom. Gotta go." I escaped, grabbing my iPod and running out the door before anyone could stop me.

Unfortunately, running didn't solve anything.

I'd managed to spend most of the day away from the house, hoping that when I got back, Katharine, Dan, and little Danielle would be gone. (I'm a bit on the anti-social side, yes.) I got some ice cream, walked around, walked some more, bought a hot dog, and used up all the battery on my iPod. It was blazing hot out but I didn't want to go home.

When I slipped back into the house around seven-thirty that evening, however, I noticed with dismay that Dan's shiny red sportscar was still parked in the driveway. Danielle was asleep in the living room, drooling on the good couch.

I peeked into the kitchen. My mom, Dad, Dan, and Katharine were sitting around the table, talking. But despite Aunt Katharine's lemonade with a little pink umbrella in it, none of them looked very happy. Certainly not fit for a luau. What was going on?

Before they could see me I slipped quietly away and went up the stairs, careful not to wake Danielle as I passed her. I could sit near the landing, unnoticed, and watch the four adults through the bars; the landing was over the kitchen. Hopefully I'd be able to hear them.

Luckily they were talking at a decent level. I crouched behind a fake potted plant just in time to hear my dad say "…don't throw that on us!"

My mom placed a hand on Dad's arm. "Calm down, honey. It's not their fault." I could see that my dad disagreed. He'd never liked Uncle Dan much. He thought Uncle Dan was irresponsible and reckless.

Aunt Katharine spoke now. "Please. It won't be for long. Just until Dan can get a job."

WHOA! I hadn't seen that coming. Were they asking to live with us? No, I told myself, of course not…were they?

If you're wondering about Dan's financial status, then let me fill you in. (if you're not confused, skip this paragraph, and the next.) Dan's family is rich. His dad started some mega-huge company, or something. Well, Dan's dad died when my uncle was only eighteen. And his dad, John, had left all of his things to his only son. Which basically meant that Dan was now amazingly rich and was set for life.

But Dan didn't want his dad's job. He wanted to go to college (although he's not much of a scholar. If you ask me, he only wanted to meet girls there.), he wanted to goof off with his buddies, probably do some other stuff that I shouldn't mention. And his dad's job didn't appeal to him in the least. So, his mom took the job. Dan's mom is now doing quite well for herself. She took some of Dan's inheritance, not a whole lot, and then took over John's company. So then she and Dan were both happy….but apparently now something in there had changed.

"When will that be?" my dad asked, not too kindly.

"Soon," Uncle Dan promised, his voice soft.

My mom looked towards my dad, her eyes pleading. "Brian," she said, "we can't turn them away."

My dad nodded. "You're right. You can stay with us for as long as you need." He grinned. "Although Danielle may have to share Bailey's room."

WHAT? NO WAY!

Another downer in Week 2 of an endless summer.

A/N—Just so you know, I will explain what happened with Dan's financial status in Bailey's next chapter! So keep reading! BB222