In the morning, I awake to Hartley tapping on my forehead. "Come on, sleepy head. It's time to get up."

I roll away from her and groan. "It is not in my best interest to get out of this bed."

"Fine, if you want to forget about your second summer goal, that's okay with me. But—" She drags the word out until she has my attention. "Sully sent me a text about you ..."

I bolt up in bed as her voice trails off. "What do you mean, he sent you a text? What did he say?"

Hartley's already dressed in jogging shorts and a baggy T-shirt, her curly blonde hair piled on the top of her head. "I'm not telling you until you get your booty out from under those covers."

I rub my eyes and swing my legs over the side of the mattress, my gaze moving toward the window. "What time is it, anyway? It's barely even light out."

"Just before five-thirty."

"Five-thirty? But we didn't get home until two!"

She stares at me, her mouth slightly ajar. "You want to lose those chipmunk cheeks, don't you?"

I look away. "Well ... yeah. But can't we get in shape at a decent hour?"

Hartley plops bottom first onto the floor and begins lacing up her running shoes. "Nope. It's now or never. I always run first thing in the morning, that way I get it over with. And if you want your mom's cheekbones before school begins, you'll need to get started right away. The clock's ticking." She taps an invisible watch on her wrist.

I can't argue with her logic. If I want to make some major changes this summer, my cheek-slimming days are numbered. Besides, this way, maybe we'll at least beat the heat. But as soon as I'm dressed and we crawl through her bedroom window, I discover that beating the heat in New Orleans is a next-to-impossible task.

"Why is everything always wet around here?" I hold onto the siding then wipe my hand on my shorts. "Instead of sunscreen, I should have brought a snorkel."

She laughs. "That's the Deep South for you. It's like a soggy sponge."

"And why exactly are we escaping through the window again?" I step onto the black shingles and shield my eyes from the rising sun. "We're only going for a jog."

"My mom doesn't like it when I go running," she says. "She thinks I'm going to get raped and mutilated. This is the murder capital of the world, you know."

No, I didn't know, but those sound like good enough reasons to me. "Um, no offense, but is your neighborhood safe? Because my mom will kill me if I get murdered on my first full day in New Orleans."

Hartley rolls her eyes and maneuvers down the trellis. "Yes, my neighborhood's safe. But worrying about me is like a sport for her."

Speaking of mothers, I still have to call mine. Although, in my defense, Mom hasn't called me either. Maybe she's decided Dad was onto something when he wrote me off.

With one final glance at Hartley's house, we take off down the sidewalk and about fifty steps in, I'm already winded. "How far are we going to go, anyway?" I try to catch my breath. "You remember I'm not a good runner, right?"

"Yes, Gwen. I'm well aware of your athletic shortcomings. I was thinking maybe five miles to start."

"Five miles! I can't run five miles! Are you nuts? I'll die!"

"Well, what were you thinking?"

Honestly, I hadn't given it any thought. "I don't know. Maybe half a mile?" I think that sounds fair since all I really want to do is crawl inside of her freezer and take a nap.

"Half a mile?" Hartley laughs effortlessly, while I struggle to breathe. "You're not going to lose anything running only half a mile ... except maybe your dignity."

And I know she's right. I bite back a growl. "Before you try and kill me, can you at least tell me what Sully said?"

"Nope. Not until after our run."

"But you said you'd tell me when I got out of bed!"

"I lied. Consider this your dangling carrot. Something tells me you're gonna need it—"

"Good morning, ladies."

We slow to a crawl as I search for the male voice that interrupted us, images of being raped and mutilated dancing through my head.

"Hey, Sully," Hartley says, staring up at the house next door. "Why are you awake at this hour? I thought I was the only one crazy enough for that."

My eyes follow hers and sure enough, Sullivan Reed is leaning casually out a second story window in the house adjacent to hers, looking way hotter than any boy should be allowed to look that early in the morning—or any time of day, for that matter. A shiver races through me as I realize how close he'll be all summer long.

"I took Oscar outside." A grin tugs at one corner of his mouth. I imagine that freckle on his lip and my stomach takes a dive. "Hey there, Miss Ohio. Long time no see."

Miss Ohio? My gaze drops momentarily before meeting his. "Hi, Sully."

His smile widens, and I swear I can see the golden flecks in his hypnotizing eyes, even from our spot on the sidewalk.

"So, Gwen," he says, "Do you want to come in and see my wiener?"

An uninvited rush of warmth blossoms across my cheeks and down my chest. "I ... uh ..."

Hartley cracks up next to me. "He means his dog. It's a joke."

I totally knew that. "Um, thanks? But maybe some other time. We're going for a run."

"I see that." His smile fades. "I thought you didn't run anymore, Hartley?"

"It's fine, Mr. Nosy Pants," she shoots back. "I'm only going because Gwen wants to."

I begin to protest, but Hartley flashes me a look.

"And we're only going half a mile. That's barely anything." There's an uncomfortable pause before Hartley speaks again. "So, what are you doin' later? You wanna hang out with us?"

"I have soccer practice this afternoon, but what did you have in mind?"

In all the years I've known my best friend, I can tell when she's trying to hide a smile. And when she's trying to hide a smile, it typically means she's up to no good. "I want to take Gwen to meet Lady Bijou."

Sully shakes his head. "Oh, no. Count me out. I'm not going back there."

"Come on, you chicken shit! Gwen's never been out of the Midwest and I want to give her the full New Orleans experience."

His eyes connect with mine before moving back to Hartley. "What's in it for me?"

She thinks for a moment. "I'm not sure yet, but I'll bet we can work something out."

"Who's Lady Bijou?" As discreetly as I can, I press my shirt to my skin in an attempt to squash the sweat already rolling down my stomach.

Sully leans a little further out the window. "The question isn't who, but what ..."

Hartley waves him off the way she'd fend off a gnat. "Don't listen to him, Gwennie. Lady Bijou is your first introduction to N'awlins," she says with an exaggerated southern drawl. "Well, technically your second if you count Melanie's famous bonfires. Remember how I told you I had a summer list of my own?"

Sully lets out a muffled laugh and Hartley tells him to shut up. "It's not funny, asshat. I promised Gwen a summer she'll never forget, and you're gonna help me give it to her."

Something clenches in my stomach, like nausea.

"I have every intention of helping Miss Ohio have a nice summer," Sully says, smiling down at me. "But I think I'll pass on Lady Bijou."

Hartley links a thin arm through mine. "Sorry, Sully, but this is a non-negotiable situation. I expect a ride into the French Quarters and I expect you to give it to us. And make sure you clean your car first. I'd hate for your stinky soccer cleats to scare Gwen away. I wanna keep her around for a while."

Sully shakes his head again, his blond waves flowing like a golden aura around his face. "The things I do for you ..."

"It's because you love me," Hartley says in a high-pitched, sing-song voice. "And I promise I'll make it worth your while."

"You'd better." But he doesn't sound annoyed when he says it. Instead, he looks straight at me with a lopsided grin.

Forty-five minutes and enough sweat to drown a baby elephant later, we trudge back up the trellis and through the bedroom window.

"Eww, you look like you just got out of the shower!" Hartley laughs, pushing blonde ringlets away from her face.

"So do you!" I shoot back as she tosses me a towel. I swipe it across my forehead and gasp, "I don't understand how you can do this every day. I was dripping wet before we even started running."

"Well, you didn't think getting into shape was going to be easy, did you?"

"I didn't think it'd be this hard," I admit. "And I know that was no half mile run. You tricked me."

Hartley gives a little shrug. "I knew you could do better. You always sell yourself short."

"How far did we go?"

"I'm not telling you. You're still alive, aren't you? Come on, admit it. It wasn't so bad."

My T-shirt is clinging to my chest like a second layer of skin. I pull it over my head. The truth is, I feel kinda good, considering the near-death experience she just put me through. I can't remember the last time I felt this accomplished. "It wasn't that bad, I guess."

"Good. Remember that tomorrow morning when it's time to do it all over again."

Her expression turns serious, but whatever she's about to say is interrupted by a knock at the door. "Girls, are you awake?" Penny calls from the hallway.

"Shit." Hartley jumps onto the bed and starts shuffling the sheets around frantically. "Get under the covers!"

"But I'm all gross and sweaty!"

"So we'll change the sheets later," she hisses. "Mom can't know we went running."

I don't understand the secrecy since Hartley didn't go out alone, but I slide obediently beneath the sheets.

"We're awake. Come in," Hartley says, her voice thick with fake sleep.

Her mom walks in with a wide grin. "Good morning, sleeping beauties. I hope you slept well."

I force a smile and nod, the bed sheets gathered around my chin.

"Very good. Gwen, your mom's on the phone. She said you weren't answering yours." Penny hands over her cell. "When you're done, why don't you both come downstairs for breakfast? Jolie's making chickpea pancakes."

"Sounds great," Hartley says from underneath the blankets. "We'll be down in a few."

When Penny closes the door behind her, I turn myself to face her. "Can I have a minute alone? Mom's probably mad at me for not calling."

Hartley springs out of bed and reaches in her drawer for a caved-in pack of cigarettes. "Sure, I'll just be out here," she says, climbing onto the roof.

I take a deep breath and bring the phone to my ear. "Hey, Mom."

"Gwen!" Her voice is tight like her jaw is clenched. "I thought you were supposed to call when you got off the plane. I was worried sick!"

I squirm in bed. "I'm sorry. I forgot." But you didn't call me either.

Mom lets out an audible sigh. "I'm just glad Penelope texted me when you arrived. She said you and Hartley were getting caught up, but I figured you'd at least call before bed."

"I really am sorry," I tell her, "but you don't have to worry. They're taking really good care of me."

"I'm glad to hear it. Just please call when you say you will, okay? This is the first time you've been so far away from home. It's difficult not knowing what you're up to."

"I'll be better. I swear."

"Good." Her voice is less tense now and I can tell she's not really mad. "How was your flight?"

"I dry-heaved when the plane took off," I say, blowing hair out of my face

Mom chuckles. "Well, you can thank your father for that. He pukes at the drop of a hat. Has he called since you left?"

"No." I grit my teeth. "And I don't expect him to. I mean, if he didn't even show up at the airport ..." The words I don't say hang on the line between us.

"I'm sorry," Mom says when I don't finish the sentence. "Your father's going through something weird right now. It's hard to explain."

"Yeah, yeah. A midlife crisis. So I've heard."

"I'm sure he'll call as soon as he can." She pauses, and I can hear her sniffling on the other end of the phone. "I miss you, honey. So does your brother."

I bite the inside of my cheek and stare up at the ceiling. "I miss you too. Tell Henry I love him."

"I will. You should have seen him last night, walking around the house like a zombie. He's lost here without you."

Absentmindedly, I finger the necklace Dad surprised me with on my thirteenth birthday—a gift just from him that I never take off—and my heart breaks a little. "It's going to be weird not seeing you guys for so long."

"I know," she says quietly. "But it'll be a nice break from what's been going on around here. And Henry leaves for camp soon, so I guess I'll be on my own for the first time in, well ... ever." She laughs but I think she's nervous.

"Yeah, I guess." And suddenly I'm so homesick I feel like I'm going to vomit. I swallow around the stone of emotion wedged in my throat. "I should probably get going now."

"Promise you'll call every night?"

"I promise. I'm really sorry I disappointed you."

"You have never disappointed me, you hear me?" There's a smile in her voice. "I love you, baby girl."

"I love you too." But when I hang up, I can't stop the tears.