A Sea of Stars Read Free

waving their arms like mad.
    â€œShe’s perfect, Maya!” shouts Mum, smiling and racing towards me. “Absolutely perfect! You’re going to love her, I know it!”
    â€œAnd she’s so excited to meet you, sweetheart,” says Dad, folding me into a big papa-bear hug. “We’ve got great plans for tomorrow!”
    â€œYou must be so excited!” squeals Mum, dancing on the sand.
    I nod and tug my lips up into a smile, but I don’t truly feel it inside. My head starts clanging with worries, my tummy starts whirring and churning again and the rope twists tight. Mum goes on and on about Cat so much she doesn’t notice Annaand I are alone; she doesn’t even notice I’ve been surfing without a grown-up watching. You’d think I’d be pleased about it, but somehow it feels like she doesn’t care. And deep, deep down at the bottom of my heart, I wish Mum had never found the article on adoption. I wish we could change our minds.

“H uuurrrrrry up, Mayyyyya!” sings Mum, like an opera singer the next morning. “We don’t want to be late for Caaaaat.”
    I don’t remember Mum ever being this cheerful. It’s as if someone has filled her up with flowers and sunshine and light and they’re bursting out of her. I’m hurrying as fast as I can, which isn’t very fast because the damselflies have multiplied since breakfast. They’re whirring and fluttering so much it’s impossible to calm down.
    I can’t decide what to wear. I’ve tried ten things on already, but nothing looks right and my hair’sgone stupid too. Every time I try to brush it straight it flies everywhere like it has an entire life of its own. I wish it was as shiny as Cat’s, or hung down all chunky like hers. I wish it was a better colour, either black or blonde or red, not just wispy rabbit brown.
    Mum’s been going on all morning. She keeps saying Cat this and Cat that and I wish she’d just shut up. The thought of meeting Cat is making my palms feel sticky. It’s different from when we went to pick up Peaches Paradise. She was just a tiny kitten and that was exciting; I was over the moon. And it’s different from starting school or learning to surf for the first time on my own. It’s different from anything I’ve ever done before. Eventually I have to give up worrying about clothes because Mum keeps on telling me it’s time to go. So I throw on my new jeans, a white top and my flowery Converse. I look OK, but I’m so nervous my fingers keep slipping on my laces. I’m scared I’m going to sick my breakfast all over the floor.
    Dad’s already waiting in the car. He startshonking the horn like crazy. He’s singing along, really loudly, to some old Bob Dylan song on the radio and he’s so smiley, if you were passing our house you’d think he was about to go on holiday for a year.
    My insides are juddering.
    â€œRemember, Maya,” says Mum, when we’re doing up our seat belts, “we mustn’t overwhelm Cat with too much information. She’s nervous and a bit shy, which means we need to give her lots of time and space. This is a big day for her, having all of us together – a massive step. We need to be gentle.”
    â€œLet’s keep it simple,” says Dad, turning Bob Dylan down, “then build up slowly to when we bring her home in a few days time.”
    â€œI do know that!” I snap, feeling really annoyed. “You’ve told me a million times before, you don’t have to keep saying it. I’m not stupid!”
    My heart is blazing and the damselflies are whirring sick burps up to my throat. I swallow hard to push them down and wish my mum and dad wouldn’t talk to me like I was a stupid five-year-old.
    I wanted to feel happy today. I wanted to be excited about getting a sister and now it’s all gone wrong. I turn the little parcel I got