Free Girl at Sea by Maureen Johnson

person you like.
    Clio shook her head hard and looked up at the cliff. Too many thoughts bouncing around in her head. Now she just had to concentrate and get up the cliff, without (if it was possible) wanting to push her dad off it.
    Just one thing at a time.
    69

    The Sea Rules
    The town was definitely up . To get there, Clio and her father had to take an endless set of pedestrian steps cut into the stone.
    The climb was fairly serious and took their breath away. This worked well, as it prevented them from having much of a conversation until they reached the top.
    They emerged on a busy square that fed into the main street.
    Every shop was open and bright. Clio scanned the signs for any that advertised computer access, but none did. This street was about shopping and eating, not getting in touch with would-be boyfriends over e-mail. She started to panic.
    Just a few paces into the road, her dad stopped in front of a slender storefront with a large sculpture of an ice cream cone in front of it. The front of the store was open, revealing a long case full of astonishing colors.
    “They have hundreds of flavors,” he said. “Best in town.”
    He was smiling and still trying to impress, but his demeanor 70

    had gotten a little distant. Whatever this talk was going to be about, he thought ice cream would buffer the impact. Her father would never get that she wasn’t little anymore and that ice cream wouldn’t fix everything. Not that it had worked then either.
    Still, Clio couldn’t help but be entranced by the variety. She had a weakness for brightly colored desserts and exotic flavors.
    She surveyed the offerings for five minutes until deciding to go for a cone full of jasmine gelato, just because it sounded fragrant and strange. Her father annoyed the busy woman behind the counter for a few moments by insisting that she surprise him.
    She either didn’t understand the English or she didn’t want some idiot tourist to make her pick something only to have him say he didn’t like it. Or she just had better things to do than choose other people’s flavors for them. He persisted in his loud, cheerful way. He often thought that other people were having fun with him even though they clearly were not.
    Clio decided to take matters into her own hands.
    “This one,” she said, stepping forward and pointing to the metal tray that contained a light yellow ice cream with a picture of a bee on the sign. “He’ll have a medium. In a cone.”
    The woman looked grateful.
    “What is that?” he asked as he accepted his ice cream. “Honey?”
    “Do you even care?” Clio asked. “You asked her to pick it for you.”
    “No,” he said. “I guess not. Let’s walk and talk. There are some things you need to know.”
    “Is this the quiet moment you’ve chosen to tell me about this Julia person?” Clio asked. It was easier to do this on her terms instead of waiting for him to get around to it, building up to it 71

    with a long, heart-stoppingly awkward conversation about how adults sometimes had feelings about other adults. She had absolutely no doubt in her mind that he would present this as if she were twelve.
    He stopped and gazed at her. He looked strangely young in the warm light of the street with his curly hair, his little hat, and his ice cream cone. It was disquieting.
    “How did you know?” he asked. “Why am I even asking? You always know things.”
    “Yeah,” she said. “I have magical powers.”
    “Is there something wrong with your ear?”
    Clio removed her hand, which she had automatically clapped over her ear again.
    “I know this is weird for you,” he said. “If it bothers you, you know you can come and talk to me about it.”
    He definitely didn’t sound like he wanted to talk about it. The words came out stiffly, like they were being read off a page by an inexperienced actor.
    “What’s there to talk about?” Clio said. “You’re allowed. You don’t live with us anymore. You left. It’s