It was one week later.

I stared at the suitcase lying open on my bed, unsure of where to start.

Nonna promised to look after the house, to take care of all our permanent things.

We were now wards of Mr. Charles Frampton, paternal grandfather.

He was coming to pick us up in his car in a few hours.

My friends had a going away party for us scheduled soon. I guessed I was going.

A few minutes later, Nina loaded us into her FIAT and drove us to Aaritra's house, where the party was going to be held.

We pulled up in front and walked to the door. I rang the doorbell. Z squeezed my hand and let go. I hadn't realized I'd been holding it, but I wished he would've kept holding on.

Aaritra appeared in the doorway. "Hi!" she cried, giving me and Willa and Z each a huge hug. "Come on in!"

We followed her in, exchanging pleasantries. I made my voice sound excited, to be nice.

The interior of the Camde residence had a minimalistic design, but with a colorful charm to it, with bright throw pillows and rugs in places. It was a large house and packed full of neighbors, friends of the family, and distant and close relatives.

Z and I were instantly overwhelmed by the sea of people that rushed over to us, a few crying, a bunch greeting enthusiastically. Willa, somewhat surprisingly, thrived in the attention of all these people and hugged them back.

The next hour, for me, at least, was basically me going around with an orange soda in my hand, talking to neighbors and great-aunts and grand-uncles, Mom and Dad's friends from college who decided to show up, and rather nimbly avoiding a certain person I told myself did not want to see right then.

After that, the party ended, and we got back into Nonna's FIAT. As we drove away, my heart slowly sank lower in my chest, until it fell into my stomach, rattling the shattered pieces in it. Would I ever see Aaritra's home again? Or any of their houses? Or any of them?

If I had been brave enough to look over my shoulder at that moment, I would've lost all control and ran out of the car and gone back, back to the boy standing there with a heartbroken look on his beautiful face.

But I did not.

When we reached home, a dented, rusty white minivan was sitting in the driveway, with bright green racing stripes painted down the sides. Gaudily painted flowers adorned the windows and doors, and a tacky brass hood ornament shaped like a willow tree was crudely taped to the hood with duct tape. The entire back windshield and bumper was plastered with bumper stickers, adding to the cheap look of the vehicle.

I swallowed and gripped Z's hand. He must've taken it again. Or maybe I did.

An old man stood patting the hood of the car, grinning at us. He had long white hair and weathered bronzed skin, with dark eyes, like Dad's, I noticed. He wore sandals and cut offs and a half T-shirt, like he was going to the beach. It wasn't a great look for him, who appeared to be in his mid-sixties.

"'Sup, kiddos," he said, waving a hand at us.

I swallowed again. Who was this man, and where was our grandfather?

"Hello," I said politely. "Are you a friend of our grandfather?" He must be, I thought. Our grandfather sent him to come pick us up.

He chuckled. "Y'all could say that." Flipping his long hair, he turned to Nonna. "'Sup, Atri, my bro, how's it goin? Still clam draggin?"

Nonna looked disgusted. "I don't know what you're talking about. Children, this is Charles, your grandfather."

We all stared at him. "You're... you're Charles?" I whispered. "But how—"

Charles shrugged. "Yah, I am. Used to go surfing with Arti here. She's a hodad now. Used to clam drag, but now she don't do nothing." He beamed a smile at us with blindingly white teeth. "Call me Grand-dude, dudes," he said, sticking out his hand for a fist-bump. "How'd you like to come check out the crib with your old man?"

I bumped his fist with mine awkwardly. "I'm Nikki."

"Well hi! We'll get you your first softboard in no time, if ya want."

I smiled. Surfing did sound kinda fun, to be honest.

When Z tried to fist-bump him, Grand-dude (yes, I was actually calling him that) grabbed him in a headlock and gave him what I believe is called a "noogie". Z looked supremely uncomfortable. "Hi-i," he stammered.

"Hey, man! You're a little skinny," Grand-dude remarked. "Cmon, dude, you can't hit the waves like that! I'm stoked to have you bros livin with me, though. It's gonna be sick to teach ya." He spotted Willa. "Hey, bro! You must be Willa!"

Willa grinned, her blue eyes flashing. "Nice to meet you, Grand-dude."

"Hey, someone's catchin on, I see," Grand-dude praised. "You girls are surfers already, just like your daddy. Good bones."

"Z wants to learn how to surf, too," Willa said.

Grand-dude grinned at us. "Of course he does. It's in ya'll's blood."

We stared blankly at him.

"Dad didn't surf," Z told Grand-dude politely.

I suddenly got a horrible picture of Dad with long hair and a soul patch, holding a surf board doing that pinky-thumb thing with his hand. I shuddered. He didn't do that, did he?

Grand-dude guffawed, slapping Z on the back so hard that he stumbled forward, eyes bulging. "Sonny, you sure you knew your Dad as well as I did? Every morning, no exception, he and the dudes and I'd go out for dawn patrol, hittin the crests like a buncha aggro jakes." He grinned that white grin, blinding us. "That's what I'm hopin we'll be doin in a few months."

Willa beamed. "Yeah! Sounds akaw to me!"

Grand-dude's grin increased. "Awesome, dude!" Then he turned to his gaudy minivan. "Well, guess we should hit it, dudes—"

"Wait!" Nonna said quickly. "How about lunch? It'll take me fifteen minutes to set it out."

Grand-dude shrugged easily. "Free grub is rad, Atri!"

We followed Nonna into the kitchen and sat.

"Hold on just a moment," said Nonna, her accent becoming thicker. She went to the refrigerator and started pulling out dishes.

"So, dudes," Grand-dude said, leaning on his elbows. "Ever heard of a place called Kill Devil Hills? That's where I live. On the Outer Banks."

"I think I've heard of it before..." I started. "It's a surf town or something, right?"

Grand-dude made the A-OK sign. "'At's it. There's a group of dudes that I teach, mostly groms, but they got talent. And I surf with some more dudes."

"You're a surfing instructor?" asked Willa, in awe. "That's so cool!"

He chuckled. "Thanks, dude. I love it, for sure."

"What's a grom?" Z wondered politely.

"A student, a surfer who's just started out," explained Grand-dude.

"How big is your house?" I asked. We would need to know anyway, since we were moving in with him.

"Ah..." Grand-dude held out his arms, air measuring. "About... ah, well. You dudes'll see it when we get there." He grinned. "Ready to go?"

We all nodded, but truly? I wasn't. I didn't want to leave Mom and Dad and Nolan. I knew they were gone, but something kept telling me, "What if they came back? What if it was all an accident? What if they aren't really—"

I shut that thought down as quickly as possible.

They were d—de—

Never coming back.

We ate lunch quickly and put our bags in Grand-dude's car. Nonna kissed and hugged us goodbye, shedding few tears and blessing us or something in Italian. I hoped we could visit her sometime. I would miss her, even if she was kind of annoying to have around.

"Arrivederci, miei cari figli," she cried as we drove away in Grand-dude's minivan. "Goodbye, my dear children!"

She stood waving until we turned a bend in the road and she disappeared from view.

I watched as everything I knew and loved disappeared as well, vanishing out of sight in the rear view mirror.

The house I'd grown up in, gone behind me.

The friends I'd made so soon ago, also gone.

Vince. Was I ever going to see him again? I'd ignored him at the farewell party. Was that the last time I'd see him?

I felt like a selfish, useless, shell of a person.

Maybe a fresh start was all I needed.

A fresh start. In Kill Devil Hills, North Carolina. On a surfboard.

Somehow, the future seemed a little brighter now.