Moonglass Read Free Page B

stopped abruptly to pick up the thick half-dollar-size piece of sea glass, then turned it in my fingers and held it up to the light. It was pitted and translucent on the outside, but there was one edge that was still crystal clear, a window to the inside of the glass. In the center I saw the small spots my mom had told me about. Something about the process of making the glass that meant it was close to a hundred years old.
    She would have said it wasn’t a great piece, because of the broken edge.
    I liked the ones with the chips in them, though, where you could see what the piece looked like bare and pure, before the ocean had tumbled it around and worn it down. The beauty of a piece like this was that after it had been worn down, something had happened to crack it open. Something big.
    I curled my fingers around it and ran the rest of the way back, switching it from hand to hand and feeling like I had found a small treasure.
    By the time I stood stretching in the sand, the beach was alive and the sun shone brightly as families lugging umbrellas and sand toys staked out their spots. The unmistakable smell s of syrup, coffee, and bacon wafted over, drawing me up the beach to where I could see small groups of people milling about. Out in front of what must have at one time been another cottage, a sign read THE BEACHCOMBER. The deck was packed, and the sounds of clinking plates and happy Sunday morning chatter almost drowned out the waves. The people waiting stood by in sunglasses, smiling and laughing while their kids played happily in the sand. It was definitely a different set of people from what I was used to seeing up north, and it was exactly what I’d expected here. The people dressed to impress, even for breakfast at the beach, which made me feel distinctly out of place in my sweaty shorts and sports bra. Actually, I would have felt out of place in this crowd no matter how I was dressed. I watched a moment longer before turning to head for a shower.
    “So. Do you always run that fast?” a voice behind me asked. I turned around and saw a tiny blond girl in a long sundress, heeled sandals, and sunglasses the size of her face. She shifted the giant bag on her shoulder, and a fluffy white dog poked its head out.
    I glanced around. Nobody else she could be talking to. “Uh, no, not always. Why?” I couldn’t decide if I was suspicious or annoyed.
    “Well, I never ran, because I always heard it shortens your muscles, but I was watching the Olympics this summer, and all of the runner girls are really skinny, but not too muscley, kind of like you, and so I decided to do cross-country this year. You know, running on a team.” She blinked a few times, waited for a response, then clarified, “To lose some weight.”
    I looked at her tiny, perfectly tanned frame, trying to figure out if she was serious. She didn’t seem to notice, and I let her go right on with it.
    “Anyway, it starts tomorrow, and so I told my dad that this would have to be our last breakfast down here, because the only thing I like to order is the macadamia pancakes, and they’re totally fatty.”
    I had to say something. Anything. “Huh. I don’t think I could swear off pancakes.” Lame, but what did she want me to say? tell her that she clearly didn’t need to diet? That lugging that bag around with her dog in it was probably workout enough for her skinny arms?
    She looked me over, then smiled sweetly. “Well, could you imagine what you would look like if you ran and watched what you ate? My mom is, like, the queen of working out and dieting, and she hasn’t even had to have lipo yet or anything. well, besides Botox, but she’s almost forty-five . Can you imagine?” She smiled, clearly proud, and a little breathless. I pursed my lips together, hard, trying not to smile. She was actually serious. She went on. “So are you here on vacation or something?”
    “Actually, I just moved here. Last night.”
    She stuck out her tiny