Shipwreck Island (2 page)

“Where are we going?” asked Nacho.

Both Sarah and Marco glared at him as Yvonna answered. “Fiji.”

John added, “Once we're there, we'll take a five-day cruise among the islands.”

Sarah had been on a family cruise to Alaska the summer before. There had been tons of other kids to hang out with, she'd barely seen her dad the whole trip, and she was clinging to the hope that this cruise would be similar. Maybe she wouldn't even have to see her new family the entire trip.

The two adults gazed at each other and smiled.

Sarah wanted to throw up.

Yvonna said, “We've reserved a sailboat just for us five, with our own crew to take us on a private cruise.”

Before Sarah had a chance to protest, Marco blurted out, “Are you kidding me? A stupid sailboat?”

“Marco!” Yvonna's eyes narrowed and she pointed at him. “You are being rude. We're all going, so stop being this way.”

Nacho raised his hand. “I want to go on the sailboat.”

Sarah yelled, “I'm not going! And you can't make me.” She stomped to her room and had stayed there until morning, when her father had barged in. “Sarah, you will pack your suitcase and pack it now or I will pack it for you. Understand?”

Which was how Sarah found herself sitting on her floor beside her bed, wishing she could do something about the fact that she was about to embark on a trip with the new family she wanted nothing whatsoever to do with. And she was furious because she knew there was absolutely nothing she could do to keep it from happening.

 

2

Marco Murillo sat on one of his new twin beds in his new room in his new home with his new stepfamily, listening to the slamming going on in the room next to his.

He wondered what that stupid girl had to be mad about.

When their parents married, she hadn't lost a thing.

Marco, on the other hand, had been forced to leave
everything
behind in Texas: his friends, his house, his school, tae kwon do, his soccer team, which was going for their fourth straight league championship … the list could go on and on and on.

With a huff, Marco kicked his suitcase shut. He didn't have to pack, because they had arrived only the day before, and he hadn't yet
un
packed. He knew what was going on. He knew
exactly
what was going on. His new stepfather was one of those rich guys who
bought
younger, beautiful wives. They used their money to make themselves look strong and powerful. And his mom had been sucked in.

His younger brother opened the door and strolled in, wheeling a red suitcase behind him.

“You could knock,” said Marco.

“Didn't feel like it,” said Nacho. He left the suitcase by the door and plopped onto the other bed and bounced a bit. “My room is just like this. Only it's light blue.” He frowned. “Actually, it's almost a turquoise. Yours is dark blue. More like a navy.”

Marco rolled his eyes. “I noticed.”

“Did you see the pool? This house is really clean. Mom says they have a housekeeper.” Nacho nodded. “Yeah, this place is way way
way
better than ours.”

Marco had to agree. Since their dad had died in a car accident when Marco was barely two, the three of them had to live on their mom's salary. She wanted them to go to a decent school and live in a good neighborhood, so their house in Texas had been small. But he felt that saying so aloud would be disloyal to his old life, which he already missed. So he didn't say a word.

They heard a crash from next door.

Nacho sighed. “Our new sister sounds ticked off.”

“She's not our new sister!” snapped Marco, his face growing hot. “Don't ever call her that again.”

“But Mom and John are married now, so that makes her—”

“Our stepsister,” finished Marco. “And the only thing that makes her that is a dumb piece of paper.” He shook his head. “She's not our family. Her dad is not our family.
Mom
is our family.
You and me
are family. Got it?”

Nacho tilted his head. “But we're all a family now. Mom said.”

“No.” Marco sighed. “This won't last. We'll be back in Texas by the time you start fifth grade.”

Nacho's eyes widened. “But that's this fall.”

“Exactly.” Marco smiled at the thought, hoping he was right: that the new marriage, this whole new arrangement, wouldn't last the summer.

There was a knock on the door. “Boys?” Their mom peeked in. Her hair was up in a ponytail and she wore a pink sundress. She smiled. “May I come in?” She stepped inside and sat on the end of the bed by Nacho. “Are you all packed?”

Marco frowned and pointed at his suitcase.

“Oh, sweetie.” His mom reached across the space between the two beds and set a hand on his knee. “I know this is an adjustment, but it'll get easier.”

Marco stood up and walked over to the dresser. “Whatever.”

Nacho said, “He says John and Sarah aren't our family.”

Marco glared at Nacho.

Yvonna frowned at Marco. “Why would you say that?”

“Because they're not,” said Marco. “How long did you know him before you married him? A month?”

“Stop,” said his mom. “You just stop. We knew each other nearly a year.”

Marco rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, I forgot. What, you saw each other like twice?”

His mom shook her head. “I know I can't make you understand, but sometimes … you just
know
. You know the person is the right one for you.”

Marco pointed at Nacho. “What about Nacho? Is John the right person for him?” He set a hand on his chest. “Or me? Is John the right person for me?”

His mom scratched her head and didn't say anything for a moment. The silence was not a happy one. Finally, sounding very confident, she said, “I thought about this a long time. Really hard. I love John. And I know it won't be easy at first, but this is a good move for us. He makes a very good living, so I'm retiring. No more flying. I can be a full-time mom for both of you. You'll both go to the same private school as Sarah—”

Slam!

“Speak of the—” Marco stopped when he saw the withering look his mother was sending his way. So Marco jerked a thumb in the direction of the sound. “What about her? You gonna be a mom for her too?”

For the first time, Marco saw the confidence on his mom's face falter. “Mom, I'm sorry, I didn't mean—”

His mom stood up and smoothed down her dress. “It's okay. That is going to be the tough part of this.” She smiled. “Remember, you two have each other. Sarah is alone in this. We all have to remember that. So just … try to be understanding, okay?” She kissed Nacho's head, and then headed over for Marco. She put both hands on his cheeks. “Please? Try to get along?”

He nodded and she kissed his forehead.

After she left, Marco looked at Nacho. “You all packed?”

Nacho nodded.

Marco had a feeling and went over to Nacho's suitcase. He pushed it over and unzipped. “Seriously?” Three large bottles of hand sanitizer took up one half of the suitcase; the other half was full of Eco-Scout paraphernalia: manuals and rope and compasses. “What about clothes?”

Nacho shrugged. “I need that stuff more.”

Marco shook his head. “No, no, no.” He sighed. “Let's go pack things you'll actually need.”

“I do need them! I need to keep earning badges.” Nacho narrowed his eyes at his older brother.

Marco picked up the sash, which bore exactly three badges: reading, computers, and math. “Looks like you've got most of the indoor ones already.”

Nacho grabbed the sash. “I've been studying all the outdoor ones. I'll take the tests when I'm ready.”

“Okay, well, you do realize that you actually have to
go
outdoors to get the outdoor badges?” Marco glanced at the bottles of hand sanitizer. As long as there was dirt in the outdoors, there was no way his little brother was going to be earning any of those badges.

“I know!” Nacho reached in the back pocket of his shorts and pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper. He opened it. “On this trip, I should be able to knock out several badges.” He held up a finger. “Sailing.” He held up another finger. “Water safety.” He held up a third finger. “Astronomy.” And a fourth. “Oceanography.”

Marco held up a hand to stop him. “Is there a badge for packing? Because if there is, you're not getting it.” He stood the suitcase up and wheeled it out the door.

“Hold on!” Nacho refolded the paper, stuck it back in his pocket, and ran after his brother.

 

3

A Tuesday morning, the start of summer, and the airport was packed. Sarah wondered how many other kids were being dragged on trips they didn't want to go on. Looking around, she could pick out a few with scowls on their faces, obviously in the same horrid mood as she was.

“Sarah!” called her dad from the ticket counter. “Put your suitcase up on the scale so they can weigh it.”

Sarah glared at Marco, who stood directly in her way. “Move.”

He hardly budged, so she offered no apology of any kind as she rolled her heavy suitcase over his foot, causing him to utter a loud “Hey, that hurt!”

Their parents were too busy conferring with the gate agent to notice, and Sarah grinned to herself as she wheeled her bag to the front of the line. Her father lugged it onto the scale, where it registered exactly 50.7 pounds. The gate agent, a man with a large head and tiny eyes, wearing the blue suit and tie of the airline, glanced at the amount and declared, “Over. That's an extra fee.”

“What?” Her dad leaned over and read the numbers. “You're going to charge me for that?”

The gate agent's tiny eyes nearly disappeared as he stared down Sarah's father and nodded crisply.

“Dad, hold on.” Sarah opened the outside pocket on the suitcase, extracted an extremely well-worn hardback edition of
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone,
then zipped it back up.

Her dad frowned. “Where's your e-reader?”

“In here.” Sarah patted her backpack. “But you never know.” As she let go of the suitcase, the numbers recalibrated, reading slightly less than forty-nine pounds. “There.”

Her dad raised his eyebrows at her and then told the agent. “I booked seats together. Why does this have us in separate seats?”

Sarah quickly piped up, “I'm fine sitting by myself.”

Her father ignored her and waited as the gate agent typed on his computer. “Sir, you're trading in two first-class for five in coach at the last minute. There's only so much I can do.” The agent typed on his computer for a few moments, punctuated with a few frowns, and finally said, “We can seat two together and three together.” He looked up. “To even get you all on the same flight, I had to put you on an entirely different route. We have you going through Shanghai, then to Sydney, and your flight to Fiji. And this is a very full flight. Sorry about the inconvenience.”

The gate agent didn't seem to be sorry about it at all, thought Sarah. Not in the least.

Her father said, “That'll have to do.”

Sarah smiled. She and her dad would be together, allowing her to pretend they were simply on a trip together, alone, just like always. Her dad waved his arm. “Boys, bring your bags over.”

Sarah stepped aside as her stepbrothers rolled their bags forward, not wanting to risk retaliation for rolling over Marco's foot. She shoved her book inside her bag, already wondering what movie she would watch on the plane while her dad slept beside her and she pretended the whole marriage/stepfamily debacle had been nothing but a bad dream.

When everyone had checked their bags, they went through security with little trouble, then found their gate and sat down. Sarah told her dad, “I'm gonna go buy a magazine and some snacks.”

Yvonna jumped up. “I'll come with you.”

Sarah didn't say anything as she twirled around and headed for the closest shop. She sensed Yvonna behind her, but wasn't exactly in the mood to chitchat. She browsed through the section of entertainment magazines and chose two before walking over to the snack section. She grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerated case and let it slam before opening it again to snag a string cheese. She picked out a bag of trail mix, some yogurt pretzels, and two granola bars dipped in chocolate. There was a line at the cash register, where a pretty, dark-haired woman in a sari was checking people out. When Sarah finally reached the counter, she dumped out her goods and threw a green package of gum on top.

“I've got this,” said Yvonna. She handed a bank card to the woman.

Sarah glanced at the card, which had green swirls and the logo of the California bank her dad used.

The woman asked, “Debit or credit?”

Yvonna smiled. “Debit.”

Sarah said, “You bank at the same bank as my dad.”

Her stepmother stiffened and didn't say anything as she punched in her code. The woman handed her the card and receipt.

Sarah grabbed the bag of her things and could barely keep up with Yvonna on the way back to their gate. “Why do you bank at the same bank? You just moved here. How did you—” Sarah felt her face get hot as her steps slowed down. Her stepmother didn't have an account at the same bank as her dad … Sarah stopped in her tracks. Her stepmother had the same
account
as her dad.

About fifteen yards ahead of her, Yvonna had reached the gate and taken a seat. John smiled at her, then stood up and walked toward Sarah, who was still frozen in place. As he reached her, he started to ask something, but she blurted out, “You gave her your debit card?”

The smile on her dad's face fell, and he said, “I didn't give her my debit card.”