How long does it last? A couple of minutes, the most sublime, intoxicating minutes of Jessie’s life. Kissing is…well, Jessie now understands it’s the secret to happiness. She never wants to stop. She tries not to think, just surrenders to their tongues and Pick’s soft lips and the way he smells and tastes.

Finally, he pulls away. She’s dizzy.

He grins. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“You have?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Haven’t you?”

She has no answer to this.

Pick stands up. “I’m going to grab lunch at Susie’s Snack Bar,” he says. “Do you want me to bring you something?”

Jessie is still in a daze. “Chicken?” she says.

“The fried chicken?” he says. “Okay, I’ll be back.”

From her window, Jessie watches Pick ride off. He’s so self-assured, the way he swings his hips from side to side on his bike and then stands straight up on the pedals, head held high. There isn’t a boy on the earth as magnetic and irresistible as Pick Crimmins. Jessie is in love with him and she will be in love with him until she dies, and maybe even after that.

Jessie and Pick eat their lunch on the tiny deck and when they finish, Pick clears their trash away. What will happen now? Jessie wonders. What happens is that Pick pulls Jessie inside, away from anyone who might pass by on Plumb Lane, and there is some more necking. This time is even better than the first; Jessie is more relaxed, she knows what she’s doing—or at least she does until Pick lifts the bottom of her shirt.

Jessie swats his hand away. She doesn’t even mean to do this; it’s involuntary, a reflex.

Pick pulls back. “Sorry,” he says. He holds both hands up in surrender. “I’m getting carried away. We’d better stop. I should get ready for work.”

Jessie doesn’t want to stop and she knows that Pick still has hours before he has to leave for the North Shore. But she also isn’t ready for anything more than kissing. She is thrilled that Pick is getting carried away, but it’s scary too. Terrifying.

That afternoon, Jessie writes identical letters to both Leslie and Doris.

How’s your summer going? My summer is fine. I have to take tennis lessons every morning at the Field and Oar Club. My backhand and my serve are coming along, so if I get invited to a weekend party on Hilton Head, I’ll be prepared.

Jessie considers crumpling this up and starting over. Leslie might understand what a weekend party on Hilton Head meant, but it’ll most certainly go right over Doris’s head.

The only “news” I have is that I’m dating someone. His name is Pickford Crimmins but he goes by Pick. He’s sixteen years old, from California, and very cute—blond hair, light blue eyes, and tanner than even George Hamilton! His family is actually living with my family this summer, which is how we met. I would not say we are going steady yet, although we probably will be soon.

Jessie leans back to consider just how blown away Leslie and Doris will be by this news. Of the three of them, it’s Jessie Levin who has gotten a boyfriend first. The fact that Pick isn’t technically her boyfriend doesn’t matter because Leslie and Doris will never meet him.

Also, we are going to Woodstock together in August.

Jessie crosses this out. She can imagine Leslie reporting this startling fact to her mother and then Leslie’s mother then calling David Levin to ask what on earth he’s thinking, allowing his thirteen-year-old daughter to go to Woodstock.

Blair is pregnant with twins! Due August first. She’s here on Nantucket now and she’ll have the babies at the hospital. My brother

Jessie pauses. She doesn’t want to say too much about Tiger’s secret mission, although Jessie can’t imagine that two adolescent girls in Brookline, Massachusetts, knowing about it would matter.

sends letters full of things I can’t tell anyone. Kirby

Jessie wants to mention Kirby because all of Jessie’s friends, especially Leslie, are obsessed with Kirby. But Jessie hasn’t seen or talked to her all summer. Kirby sent a package that contained a tie-dyed Martha’s Vineyard T-shirt with a card that said Miss you! Other than that, it’s like Kirby has fallen off the face of the earth.

is spending the summer on Martha’s Vineyard. I’m hoping to be allowed to go visit but my mom probably won’t let me because she’s upset about Tiger and doesn’t want to say goodbye to any more of her children, even for a couple of days.

These are the truest words in the whole letter, Jessie realizes.

That’s all for now! Write back!

Your best friend,

Jessie

P.S. Thank you again for the record album. I listen to it all the time!

White lie, Jessie thinks. She hasn’t listened to it even once, and now that she and Exalta are at odds, she can’t ask to use Exalta’s the Magnavox. Plus it’s in the den with the television that Blair watches all day, every day. But again, Leslie and Doris will never know.

Jessie seals the letters in envelopes and puts a stamp on each but she’s not allowed to leave the house, so going to the mailbox will have to wait.

She leans back in bed and thinks about kissing Pick.

I’m getting carried away.

Carried away isn’t a phrase Jessie has given much thought to before but now she sees how accurately it describes her mood. She feels like there is wind beneath her, like she is being lifted up into the air; she feels like she’s soaring.

Her life was one thing when she woke up that morning, and now it is something else entirely.

As Jessie and Exalta are walking home from tennis lessons the next morning, Exalta says, “Well, Jessica, today is the last day of your grounding. Tomorrow you’ll be free to do as you please.”

Free to do as she pleases. Jessie thinks back to the dinner at the Mad Hatter with her mother. Kate said that Jessie’s birthday present would be permission to ride her bike to the beach in the afternoons. Has Kate learned what happened with the necklace? Jessie assumes so, though Kate hasn’t said a word about it. It’s possible—no, probable—that even Jessie stealing hasn’t managed to catch Kate’s attention, which is a bad thing but also, for Jessie, a good thing.