Chapter 16

“One more day…” I said. “And then seventy-five.” Sixth grade would begin September seventh. I didn’t always do my math homework, but I had counted the days I wouldn’t be seeing Angel.

“Maybe they’ll go fast.”

“I’m going to put a big X on every one until they’re all marked.”

When I told my dad I wanted a boat, he bought me a model he said he’d help me put together. By the time I crossed out September sixth, it still wasn’t done. As it turned out, I wasn’t as ambitious as Dicey Tillerman. I couldn’t even construct a toy replica, let alone an actual boat. My father and I did work on it some. It was actually kind of fun. He told me stories about sailors and pirates, whales, squids, and sharks, stories he made up himself.

“After the shark ate one of the pirates, the pirates who were left caught and ate the shark.” Dad took a swig of beer at the end of the tale, and then passed the bottle to me. “Don’t tell your mother.”

At first, I thought it tasted disgusting, and said so. “Yuck!”