Alone in my room—strange that I already think of it as mine—I pull out my notebook, ready to write down more about what I’ve learned about Kensington, but instead I find myself writing in it as though it’s a diary, about my frustration at not having found anything, that I can’t say the words “John and Michael Darling” out loud, about the way Jas took on the waves this morning, the way Hughie took on Jas. And finally, I write that I can’t stop thinking about Pete, about my stomach somersaulting every time he comes near. I must have dozed off because I almost leap out of my skin when there’s a knock on my door. It’s Hughie. “Sorry I scared ya awake,” he says. I shake my head, blushing. “No worries,” I say. “What’s up?” “You left this morning without taking a single wave,” he says. I nod. “I know. Those waves seemed a little too advanced for me.”
