The Ocean Between Us by Susan Wiggs Page A

joking.”
    He yanked a T-shirt over his head. “Yes,” he said. “You were.”

CHAPTER EIGHT
    “It’s the last official night of summer,” Emma said after they dropped off Katie and Brooke at the theater.
    “How’s that?” Brian asked, jiggling his knee as he signaled to pull out into the road. Even while driving, he never sat still. He was always drumming, tapping or somehow moving around. It drove his teachers nuts, but his coaches appreciated all that excess energy.
    “Dipshit,” she said. “School Monday.”
    “Yippee.”
    “So not only is it the last night of summer, it’s the last Saturday night before senior year.” The last time she’d go school shopping with her mom and Katie, the last time she and Brian would head out into a clear, cool night, looking for a fitting way to mark the end of summer before they went their separate ways.
    He eased out onto the road. “Yeah, so?”
    “So nothing,” said Emma, tucking away an old feeling of exasperation. “It was just an observation.” Sometimes she wished her twin had been a girl. Brian was such a guy. So dense and literal.
    “We should make the most of it, then,” he said a moment later, surprising her. “Where’s the party?”
    “Mueller’s Point,” she said, “as usual.” They knew all thecommon rendezvous points, because they’d had the entire summer to figure out the social scene. Both twins were adept at making friends quickly and easily, wherever they went. It wasn’t a gift, exactly. It was a survival skill. Moving every couple of years, you either learned to adapt and settle in fast, or you died the slow, excruciating, life-scarring death of the social outcast.
    The life of a Navy brat was not for wimps. By the age of six, she and Brian had learned to reconnoiter a place, move in and make their mark in just a short time. The system wasn’t flawless, but it worked pretty well. To this day, she still kept in touch with a handful of kids all over the globe, kids she’d met and brought into her heart, shared a warm but temporary bond of friendship with before moving on. It was frustrating sometimes, because every once in a while, she really clicked with someone, only to have to leave just when it felt comfortable to share her life with that person. Each time she moved away, the goodbyes were filled with heartfelt promises: I’ll never forget you. I’ll write every day. I’ll come back to visit each year. Even though delivered with absolute sincerity, the pledges were never fulfilled. Not even once. Emma figured that was life for you, an unending strain of farewells and false promises.
    “I guess it is pretty weird,” Brian said as he drove toward the waterfront county park. It had a boat ramp, a dock and a fire pit on the beach. Over the summer they’d learned it was the favored hangout for a sizable group of kids. “The thought of no more school, ever.”
    “Except college,” she reminded him.
    “Right. College.” His voice sounded flat and glum.
    “Quit pouting,” she said. “You’ll be playing baseball and running track. How bad can that be?”
    “Dad wants me to go to the Naval Academy.”
    Her brother would be offered an appointment, of course. He was a shoo-in. But getting the appointment was only the first hurdle. Getting through was the harder task. Unlike Brian, Emma had always been fascinated by the process. It took everything you had, and more. It took a willingness to give up your whole life,to surrender everything that made you unique. You had to make yourself over in the image of the Navy. A warrior with a spine of steel. And a degree in engineering.
    “It’s not such a bad idea, Brian.”
    “Geez, not you, too.”
    “It’s a hell of a deal. You get an education and a job, guaranteed. An awesome job, by the way.”
    “And Dad gets his son in the Naval Academy,” Brian said. “That’s what it’s all about, and don’t pretend it isn’t.”
    “Well, sure it is, but so what?”
    “He wants it