He swam on toward the beach, loving the way the sunlight dappled down through the warm waves and made ever-shifting patterns across the seabed. And he still hadn’t even needed to take a breath! This was so amazing! He and Josh should just forget about giving the S.W.I.T.C.H. spray back to Petty and keep it all week. They could swim out in the sea every day—maybe even go offshore for miles and swim down to explore wrecks! He started to say this to his brother—and then he noticed that his brother wasn’t next to him. Or behind him. Or anywhere. “Josh? Josh? Where are you?” He waited, effortlessly treading water as his call traveled through the sea. At first he heard nothing . . . and then . . . a kind of squeak. He flipped round and swam straight for the source of the squeak. He still couldn’t see Josh, though, and now his heart began to skip about, rather fast. What had happened? Had Josh S.W.I.T.C.H.ed back to a boy already? That could mean trouble. Josh had not S.W.I.T.C.H.ed back, but he was still in trouble.
