Chapter 1

The lake looks angry again.

Ive always wondered how a baby could survive out there. How could a newborn,
swaddled in seaweed at the bottom of a boat, possibly stay alive? That old rowboat crashed
into our dock, right in front of our house, on the edge of Lake Superior.
It seems so impossible.
No one ever understood why my Mom got up in the middle of the night during a storm
that was battering half the state. But she swears she heard someone singing to her, a
melody so beautiful that she couldnt resist its pull. She felt like she was being called to the
water.
My Mom woke up my Dad because she wanted him to go with her. He wanted to go back
to sleep, but she insisted.
They fought the wind and the rain and trudged down the slope that led to the beach. My
Mom was pregnant with my sister at the time, so my father held on to her tightly, worried
that she might fall. They made their way to the waters edge, where they saw an old
wooden rowboat stuck underneath the dock. Dad urged my Mom to go back inside, but she
wanted to keep going. They braced themselves against a strong gust of wind, then made
their way toward the end of the dock.
The rowboat was coming apart. They stepped closer to it, looked down toward the
bottom.
And there I was.
A perfect baby girl, as my parents love to say.
Dad climbed into the boat and gently lifted me out. He handed me to the only Mom Ive
ever known. She took me in her arms and I started to cry. From that very moment, I was
part of their family.
As they walked away from the dock, they noticed a name written across my back in
some kind of strange ink.
Avalon.
But everyone calls me Ava.
My adoptive parents are Ron and Sara Blue. Theyve raised me alongside their own
daughter, Bianca, who was born just two months after I arrived by boat. The two of us have
been like twins ever since, and some people even think we are real sistersexcept Im a
redhead and shes a blonde. We have the most loving parents in the world and we live in a
really great house right on the lake in northeast Minnesota. I feel lucky. Everything in my
life is pretty much wonderful, or as wonderful as it can get in Sweetwater.
Except for one thing.
Im an aquaphobe.
I cant get too close to the water, because being an aquaphobe means Im petrified of the

lake and anything that resembles a body of water, even rivers. Every time I get near the
waters edge, it hits me. The most brutal panic attacks Ive ever seen, said a doctor at the
Mayo Clinic.
The attacks are always the same. They squeeze the breath out of me. My heart races
faster and faster, begging me to run away. And then the shocks come. They feel like a giant
Taser, shooting millions of watts right through me.
Posttraumatic Stress Disorder.
The doctors say its a textbook case of PTSD, caused by my watery abandonment at
birth. In other words, its mostly in my head.
The psychiatrists say theres only one cure: exposure therapy. I need to face my fear
head-on until I desensitize myself to the lake. I need to expose myself to it little by little
until it no longer hurts me at all. At this point, Ill try anything.
So, every day I go outside and try to drag myself just a little bit closer to the lake. A little
bit closer to normal.
I may have escaped that rowboat, but Ill never escape the lake.
Lake Superior. The greatest of the Great Lakes, so they say. Practically every window in
our house faces it. And I know it sounds crazy, but I feel like it calls to me. I feel, in some
odd way, that its my friend. My temperamental friend. The lakes angry today but
sometimes its joyful and bright. Sometimes its magical. It wants me to come close. I know
it does.
But Im not going anywhere near it. No way.
Its the first day of school and, honestly, I dont want to face the lake or my high school.
But I do want to be normal some day and since the doctor says I need to do my therapy
every day for it to work, I guess I should just go do it. Its a new year, so I need to deal
witheverything.
I throw on my flip-flops and head downstairs in my nightgown. Its this ridiculous pink
thing that Bianca made us get at a two-for-one sale at Victorias Secret. Its way too short
with ruffles everywhere, but thats what happens when you dont do your laundry. Youre
stuck with whatevers at the back of the closet.
Luckily, the house is empty. I would die if my Dad saw me in this thing. But Biancas off
to an early cheer practice, Moms off to work at the hair salon, and Dads off to Superior
College, where hes the Dean of Arts and Professor of Mythology.
I glance at the clock. Its 7:25 am and if I dont hurry Im going to miss the bus. Ill just do
my therapy, run back in and get ready to go.
I go downstairs and into the hall. I pull open the front door and get hit with a big gust of
wind. I really should have gotten dressed first.
On the way out, I almost slip on a manila envelope lying on the floor by the front door.
Looks like another college is trying to recruit me with their fancy brochure. Theyre
relentless. More and more brochures arrive every day. Bianca gets them, too. But I dont
even like to look at them because I just dont want to deal with picking a college right now.

Making decisions about the future is way too much for me. And I have no idea where I want
to go, no idea where I belong.
Im shivering as I walk around the back of the house, but I keep on going down the slope
to the beach, putting one foot in front of the other.
Why am I doing this? Honestly, the lake, the weather, everything on this beach is totally
hostile. And those shrieking crows look like they want to swoop down on me. We really
ought to get a scarecrow.
I take a deep breath as I step onto the beach, about thirty yards back from the water. I
tiptoe over the cold stones and concentrate on my breathing. In. Out. In. Out. I take a small
step toward the waters edge.
Wow. I think I must be six inches further today than yesterday, getting just a tiny bit
closer to our dock. I lift my head from the ground and stare out at the water. The whole
time, Im breathing in and out and keeping my eyes on the horizon.
Im doing it. Even though Im freezing cold and my teeth are chattering, Im doing it. Im
going to beat this phobia one day. I know I am.
I focus on the ground, like the doctor told me to do. Just one step at a time and then,
eventually, Ill make it to the water. I breathe deep as I take a tiny step forward and
I hear a loud splash off to my left. I cover my chest with my arms and scan the shoreline.
I look back toward the dock. WTF?
Theres a guy standing at the end. Where the heck did he come from? Its like he just
appeared on the dock from out of nowhere. He has his back to me and is staring out at the
lake.
I blink my eyes to focus them better. Whoais he ever hot. Im only looking at the back
of him and Im already blushing like crazy. What if he turns around and sees me? But he
seems fixated on something far out on the water so I guess Im free to stare.
I cant help myself. I take one small step closer to him. Everything feels so dreamy. But
as I step forward, I get zapped with pain. I panic as it becomes stronger. My head spins and
my vision blurs. I have to take ten steps backwards until it finally stops. It serves me right
for looking at him.
I can still see him even from here. Andoh my God!
Hes about six-foot-four and wearing tight black surfer pants. Hes very definitely been
swimming. Normally guys wear a full-body wetsuit. The lakes too cold not to. But this guy
is shirtless. Hes got tanned golden skin, platinum surfer hair, and a body like I have never
seen. Ever. Anywhere.
Hes all muscle. The good kind. The really good kind. Not like Biancas pit bull football
players. Hes built like a Greek god. He has these broad, sculpted shoulders and arms, a
ripped back with about a hundred muscles I never knew existed, and then everything
tapers down into a perfect V.
Oh boy, I have got to get a grip.
Not only is he beautiful, hes also cool. He looks like someone whos been placesplaces

besides Minnesota. Hes covered with these amazing tattoos. I could stare at them all day if
I wasnt staring at his whole body. And I dont even like tattoos.
I wonder if he can feel me staring. I must be burning a hole in him with my eyes. Which
is impossible. You cant feel someone stare. And its a good thing, too, because then hed
turn around and see me. Im feeling so weak. I honestly dont know whats going on with
me. I am so flushed its like my cheeks are on fire. I can hardly breathe or move. And I cant
even see his face.
OMG. How can I be having such a crazy physical reaction to him? I guess it must be
teenage hormones. When he turns around, Im sure hell be ugly. And I bet hes not very
smart.
Mrs. Mulvey has a bumper sticker that says, Hormones are a Bitch. I think she was
referring to menopause, but as an almost-sixteen-year-old, I think I can totally relate.
Uh oh. Hes turning around.
Crap.
I didnt mean to say it out loud, but I do. And then I cover my mouth to take it back, but
its too late. He hears me. He turns to look right at me and grins. Not that any of it matters
anyway because this guy is so much more beautiful than I ever could have imagined. The
guy who is walking toward me right now, with the I have a secret aqua eyes and a sexy
half-smile, is literally knocking the wind out of me. All I know is that I have to get out of
here now because I am so, so far out of my depth that Im heading for an epic fail.
But he moves so fast.
Hes down the dock in a heartbeat, and on the grass. With every step he takes toward
me, I take a slow step back. His eyes glimmer and lock me in a hypnotic, unblinking gaze,
like a cobra. Hes backing me up the grassy slope toward our house. He wants to see what
Im going to do next. I feel like Im his prey.
OWW!
The next thing I know, Im flat on my behind in the grass, in my too-short, too-seethrough nightgown. And Im sitting on something hard. I reach under me and its a pair of
Biancas high-heeled shoes. Figures. Shes always sneaking down here for make-out
sessions with her boyfriends.
Nice shoes, he says as he offers his hand to help me up.
He has a faint, but definitely sexy accent. He seems to be trying not to laugh. The
corners of his mouth are curled up, and look so cute andI really shouldnt be looking at
his mouth right now.
Theyre my sisters. Im amazed that I can even get the words out.
Ah, the famous Bianca. He says as he extends his hand to help me up off the grass.
When I grab hold, its like a million delicious shivers run up and down my body. I dont ever
want to let go.
You know Bianca?
Then it hits me. I feel all the air rushing from my body. Of course he knows Bianca. Or

wants to. Thats why hes here. It makes perfect sense. Biancas one of the prettiest, most
popular girls in our school. Guys stalk her all the time. Ive been concocting this whole
imaginary encounter in my head.
I really am a nutcase.
Wrong sister. But I guess you already knew that. Im the redhead. Obviously. I let go of
his hand and wrap my arms around my body in my typical self-defense pose.
Suddenly, Im very aware of the fact that Im half-dressed in front of this guy who only
wants Bianca.
Why wont he just go?
Instead, he grins. What makes you the wrong sister? Is there something I should
know?
Wow. Its not what he says exactly, but the way he says it. Its like a dare. My heart beats
faster and now Im flushing crimson right down to my toes, hoping that he wont notice me
blushing.
He has me at a disadvantage because hes so much taller than me, and Im pretty sure he
likes it. He raises his eyebrows and waits for my answer. And there is no way I can possibly
speak now.
So?
Im usually so good with comebacks. Theyre kind of my specialty. But this guy is
making me forget how to speak. I finally manage to confess in a whisper, Everything.
When in doubt, go with honesty.
I doubt that, he grins. The way he says it is so dreamy, I almost believe him.
As he moves even closer, my stomach fills with butterflies. Oh my God, I hope he doesnt
notice Im blushing.
My name is Ava.
I know. He winks at me. OMG. He actually winked at me.
And you are?
He looks taken aback and looks away, as if this wasnt the most normal thing in the
world to say. I try again. I mean, youre new here, right? More awkward silence. Im
starting to feel pretty self-conscious.
I have no idea why he wont answer me, but I really want to know who he is and where
he came from. So I get up my nerve and look straight into those cobra eyes of his with a
confidence I definitely dont possess. And
He frowns. Ugh. I mustve just set the record for making a guy lose interest. I am such a
loser. Who do I think I am trying to flirt with such a gorgeous guy? Id better go before it gets
even worse.
Um, I have to go to school. I am helpless, unable to move even an inch. And all of a
sudden, hes smiling again.
He just stands there watching me, like hes totally amused. I just feel embarrassed. And
so, I turn around, and run toward the house in my ridiculous nightgown.

Is he still looking? Im too scared to look back and see.

I had always wondered if you could feel someone staring at you. And now I know: the
answer is yes. You can definitely feel if someone is staring at you; it feels like hot rocks on
your skin. I had a massage like that once from a Thai exchange student who used to live
next door to us. You heat the rocks up in super-hot water and then someone places them all
up and down your back, pressing down really slowly.
It burns a little at first.
And then it feels really, really good.