Serena rearranged her shorts, T-shirts, underwear, socks, Bun-Bun, and Mr. Monkey in her duffel bag and yanked on the zipper again. It moved a few more inches and stopped, stuck now on Bun-Bun’s ear. Serena knew she should probably leave her stuffed animals behind, but they’d always gone everywhere with her, and she saw no reason to exclude them from going to field hockey camp. She pushed Bun-Bun down with one hand and inched the zipper over the rabbit’s ears. Finally clear, the teeth locked together and the zipper glided to the end.

Serena yanked the bulging bag onto the floor and began packing yet another duffel bag, this time with her goalie equipment. She dumped her helmet, chest and leg protectors, padded shorts, neck guard, “moon boot” goalie shoes, gloves, and goalie stick into the bag. She didn’t even attempt to pull the zipper over the lumpy mass. Serena was just glad it all fit into the bag, making her equipment easier to carry.

“I think that’s everything,” said Serena to Tux, “unless you want me to pack you in here, too.”

Tux blinked at her and promptly began washing his leg.

“I’m leaving for two weeks, and all you can do is take a bath.” She flopped down onto the bed next to him and scratched the white V of fur under his neck, which resembled a man’s tuxedo shirt. Within seconds the roar of his purr filled the room.

“You better hurry,” called her mom from downstairs. “Carly and her mom will be here any minute.”

“Coming,” Serena hollered back. After kissing Tux on the head, she rolled to her feet. She grabbed the duffel bags and fell onto the bed again. “Hey, Maddie. Come help me with my bags.”

“No way,” came a voice from the room next door.

“Maddie!”

No answer. Serena pounded the wall of the adjoining bedroom with her fist. Tux jumped and stared, wide-eyed, at the wall.

“Madelyn!”

“Maddie, go help,” said Mom.

Eleven-year-old Maddie appeared in the doorway, a scowl on her face. “I wish you were going to Boston permanently instead of only two weeks.”

“Just make sure you stay out of my room while I’m gone.”

“Maybe I will, and maybe I won’t,” sang Maddie.

Serena grabbed a duffel bag and slung it at Maddie, nearly knocking her over. Maddie tugged the bag by the strap and dragged it down the steps. Serena followed with the goalie equipment bag.

“Wow, Mom!” exclaimed Serena when she reached the bottom of the stairs. Facing her was a large, framed painting propped against the wall. “You finished your painting.”

“I’ve been cranking them out, haven’t I? Can’t miss the peak tourist season.”

“I’m glad I’m missing it this year,” Serena said.

Although she loved Bar Harbor, where her family had lived for four years, Serena had grown to detest the summers, when the streets were clogged with tourists on their one-or-two-week vacations, filling every campsite, motel, and cottage for miles around. The worst part of the tourist season was the first two weeks of August. Everyone on the Eastern seaboard headed up Highway 1 to Mt. Desert Island off the coast of Maine. At least it seemed that way to Serena.

Acadia National Park was the destination point, and Bar Harbor, the closest town, was home base for the vacationers. They jammed the sidewalks as they traipsed from store to store buying moose T-shirts, blueberry jam, and lighthouse hot pads for friends and family.

But the tourists, Serena knew, provided jobs for both of her parents. Her mother owned Maine-ly Paintings, a gift shop filled mostly with her original paintings of Maine scenes. Her father piloted a tourist boat, the Marta, named after her mother, which he’d bought after retiring from the Navy. Twice each day in the summer, he sailed vacationing families into the open ocean in search of whales, dolphins, and puffins.

Serena and Maddie and their brother, Kyle, had made many trips with him, crashing through the whitecaps on a rough sea or gliding smoothly over the surface on a calm day. The condition of the sea mattered little to the Marlowe kids; they didn’t possess a seasick bone in their bodies, unlike their mother who became queasy even before the boat left the pier.

When Serena was younger, she had greatly enjoyed accompanying her dad on the Marta or helping her mom arrange paintings and other gifts in the shop. But this summer, Kyle had left for the United States Naval Academy in Maryland, and Maddie had insisted that, at eleven, she was old enough to help Mom in the shop.

That was fine with Serena. In fact, when Coach Montkin had announced the field hockey camp at Boston University, Serena had wanted to go so badly that she had purposely played up to Maddie, telling her that she was really grown up and could help Mom in the store. Maddie had fallen for her flattery and soon was begging to help out at Maine-ly Paintings, too. Mom had agreed after only minimal nagging from Maddie.
A few days later, Serena had overheard her parents talking, laughing actually, at Serena’s setup of her little sister. But Serena didn’t care if they were wise to her. She was just grateful to be leaving Bar Harbor and escaping the tourist turmoil that transformed her slow, comfortable town into one large traffic jam.

“Are you sure you’ve packed everything?” asked Serena’s mom. “Your retainer, cold sore medication?”

Serena sighed. “Yes, Mom. I didn’t forget a thing.” Serena wished she wouldn’t still treat her like a kid.

“What about your camera?”

“Oops.” Serena hurried back up the steps to her room. A minute later she rejoined her mother and sister with her Polaroid slung over her shoulder.

“Okay, then. Maddie and I need to get set up at the shop. Your dad said to say good-bye since he had that early morning breakfast tour.”

Serena nodded. “We said our good-byes last night.”
“Just lock the door when Carly and Mrs. Ritchie get here.” Her mom stopped then, and Serena saw the moistness in her mother’s eyes and felt the same reaction in hers. Her mother wrapped her arm around Serena’s shoulder. “First your brother leaves for the academy, and now you’re leaving.”

“It’s only two weeks, Mom,” said Serena, assuring herself as much as her mother that two weeks wasn’t long at all.

“Well, have fun and be careful. Boston’s a big city, and you’re used to life in a small town, on an island no less.”

“Sure, Mom. I’ll be fine.”

Her mom gave her one final hug and was out the door.

“See ya, Twerp,” said Serena.

“See ya, Hockey Head,” answered Maddie.

Serena waved to them as the car backed out of the driveway and then began searching for a van to pull in. She couldn’t wait to see Carly. Carly had spent the last three weeks with her dad in Houston and had only returned the day before.

Carly Heiser was Serena’s best friend. She lived just a few blocks away and had spent her whole life on Mt. Desert Island. When Serena had first moved to Bar Harbor, Carly had introduced her to the kids in town and at school, a big help since Serena was used to life on a naval base and had never socialized much with the kids from the nearby towns. Carly had also eased Serena’s worries about fitting in. Although Serena’s dark skin, black hair, and Filipina features contrasted sharply with Carly’s milky white, freckled skin and kinky red hair—indicating her Irish roots—Carly’s friendship with her put to rest any worries Serena had had about other kids finding her different.

During her first weeks in Bar Harbor, Carly had taken Serena to all her special places around the island and in Acadia National Park. She’d led her to the best tidal pools to find crabs, sea urchins, and starfish. They hiked secluded beaches to hunt for driftwood and colored rocks, sanded smooth by the pounding surf.

Carly had also shown Serena her “secret sand bar,” as she’d called it when she was little, which connected Bar Harbor to Bar Island. They had spent hours watching the tide go out, ever so slowly exposing a sandbar in the inlet, enabling them to walk to Bar Island. Another time, when Serena had spent the night, Carly’s mom had driven them down to the water’s edge at three in the morning so they could see the tide roll back in, eventually covering the sandbar, hiding the harbor’s secret again. That adventure and others like it had helped Serena fall in love with the island, all because of Carly.

The girls also shared an enthusiasm for field hockey. Both had tried out for and made the team in seventh grade. Carly played middy, which meant she ran constantly, helping move the ball up the field to the offensive forwards and assisting the sweeper and goalie in defending the goal cage.

A van pulled into the driveway and honked. Serena opened the door and wrestled her baggage onto the porch. Carly, seeing the battle with the bags, jumped out of the van to help.

“What on earth did you pack?” she asked, laughing at the overstuffed luggage.

“Same stuff you probably did,” replied Serena.

They lugged the bags to the driveway, hoisted them into the back seats of the van and then crawled into the middle seat.

“Hi, Serena,” said Carly’s mom. “Missed seeing you the last few weeks.”

“Same here,” Serena replied. She turned to Carly. “I was totally bored without you. So how was Houston?”

“It was terrific. My dad took me to a rodeo, and I got to see Brianne. She’s cute, but she cries a lot.” Carly hesitated.

Serena knew Carly had stopped talking about her new half sister because her mom was right there. Even though her parents had been divorced for three years and both had remarried, she always felt awkward talking about her dad when her mom was present.

“Look what I got,” Carly continued quickly. She reached under the seat and pulled out a white cowboy hat.

“Ride ‘em, cowgirl!” yelped Serena. She slapped her leg like she was cracking a whip.

“Planning to wear that on the streets of Boston?”

Carly snickered. “Of course not.”

“Why not? A cowboy hat would really turn some heads.”

“I don’t want people staring at me. You wear it.”

“Maybe I will.” Serena put the hat on. “Howdy, pardner,” she said with a country-and-western twang in her voice. “Call me Tex. And don’t get me confused with my cat, Tux.”

“You’re crazy,” Carly giggled.

Both girls laughed again and settled into their seats for the six-hour drive to Boston.

“Wow, look at the traffic,” said Carly.

“It’s nuts!” exclaimed Serena.

“I’m glad we’re headed the opposite direction,” Mrs. Ritchie muttered.

As they drove over the bridge to the mainland, they stared at the bumper-to-bumper traffic lined up, Serena knew, for miles, barely moving. Serena took one more look at the island disappearing behind her and then turned to Carly.

“Good-bye, Bar Harbor. Hello, Boston,” she sang out.

They smacked their hands together over their heads in a high five, jarring each other so hard the cowboy hat popped off Serena’s head.

“Here’s to two weeks of fun,” said Serena in her country-and-western voice again.

“And field hockey.”

“And adventure in ...”

“Boston!” they both shouted.