Free Eternal Youth by Julia Crane Page A

exchanging glances with Avery.
    “What’s wrong?” Her mom’s tone of voice hit a level that suggested worry.
    “No, nothing’s wrong,” Avery rushed to say.
    Callie spoke at the same time. “We were just wondering…could Avery come with us? To the Bahamas?”
    Emma let out a breath and pressed a dirty hand to the bare skin above her white tank top. “Oh, Jesus, you guys scared me. Yes, yes, of course. I think that’s a lovely idea. Have you cleared it with your mom, Avery?”
    Avery shook her head. “Not yet, but I will. Tonight.”
    “She said no.” Avery’s voice wavered across the phone line. Callie could tell she’d been crying.
    The sun had set outside the window over her vanity, and all the dim, yellow globes that lit the neighborhood were on. Callie was sitting in front of her netbook with her legs crossed Indian-style in the chair as she checked her Facebook feed.
    “Then, I’ll ask if I can stay,” Callie answered. “I can talk Mom into it.”
    “I don’t know, Cal. Remember when you asked a couple years ago?”
    Vividly . It had been the summer Callie turned thirteen. They came back to San Diego to switch out clothes—traveling for more than three months on the same ten outfits could get gross. During the three-day weekend they were home, Avery had spent every day and night at Gran’s. When it was time to go again, Callie had thrown a fit to end all fits and begged her mother to let her stay.
    She’d later found her mom crying hysterically in the bathroom.
    “Yeah. I remember.”
    Avery sighed. “I know you want me to go, and I want you to stay, but seriously, Cal—I think your place is with your mom. She needs you.”
    Callie turned to stare out the window; the lights of the city were too bright to see the stars. She missed the stars. “I wish she didn’t need me so much. What about what I need?”
    “You don’t mean that.”
    Callie had seen the same sky all over the world—the same stars, the same blue or black color no matter where they went—and she knew her best friend was right. It was irrelevant how badly she wanted to stay; she would always go.

March 31, 2011
    Somewhere outside Christchurch, New Zealand
    We’re staying at some farmer’s house in bumfrack country. There are sheep outside the window of the bedroom I’m supposed to sleep in. WTF? Why couldn’t we have stayed in the freaking Crowne Plaza?
    Braden left about an hour ago to head into the city for a “pint” he said. Just because we’re in a country where they talk like Brits doesn’t mean he needs to go all native, but whatev. I only wish Mom would let me have a “pint.” I need it after the flight from hell.
    The airline screwed up and put me in the back of the plane while Mom and Braden had seats together wayyy up front. I was between some guy who weighed a thousand pounds and had stinky armpits AND a stick-thin woman with an infant that literally wailed for the entire damn flight.
    I turned on my iPod. It helped.
    I can’t understand a freaking word the people here are saying. The farmer’s wife apparently complimented my sundress and all I heard was, “Wotalurvdawdr.” ???
    In the morning, we’re going to the cathedral. Mom swears this time is the ONE. It’s always the ONE. I’m wondering how the hell she thinks the cathedral people are going to let us get underneath the church where the fountain supposedly is. It’s not like Mom can just walk up to the Dean and say “hey, we’re just gonna take a walk in the vaults and maybe find a secret trapdoor that leads to an underground river that will give us eternal youth. ‘K?”
    God, we’re so screwed. If my mom gets arrested in New Zealand, I’m SO not bailing her out. And I’m definitely going for that “pint.”

C allie was putting away groceries for her mother when Braden walked into the kitchen and grabbed an orange off the counter. He sank into a seat at the old wooden kitchen table and leaned forward on his elbows to peel the