Pike (The Pawn Duet #1) - T.M. Frazier Page 0,1

for the first time in my life, I can’t remember what.

The memory is there, but it’s sitting inside my brain like a shredded picture, floating in the wind. Just when I feel like I’m getting close to it, it’s gone again. It’s like catching something moving in the corner of your eye only to turn around and realize that nothing’s there.

It’s as if I’m chasing ghosts.

The sound of my sisters’ laughter brings me back to the present. I brush off the uneasy feeling and plaster a bright smile on my face.

Whatever happened must not have been that important. Because if it was, I’m sure I’d remember. Because it’s who I am. I’m the daughter who remembers.

Whatever is going on with my memory is going to have to wait because I refuse to let anything bother me, especially not here, my happy place.

My family and I vacation here in Logan’s Beach every summer. We have a small timeshare right on the beach. All of my greatest memories took place in this town. I lost my first tooth here. I had my first almost-kiss on the pier, pulling away at the last second after spotting whatever gross thing was stuck in Hudson Yontz’s braces, but the memory still makes me smile. My mom taught me how to swim in the pool of the timeshare here. My sisters and I even won a fishing tournament here. We called our team the Snook Sisters and that year, the Snook Sisters took home first place. You would have thought we’d won the lottery instead of a forty-five-dollar gift certificate to Master Bait & Tackle.

The warmth of the sun begins to cool, and the unrelenting heat fades from the back of my neck leaving a cool spot in its place as the breeze brushes across my wet skin.

I glance up to the sky and notice the sun dropping into the horizon.

Sunset already? Where did the time go? Didn’t we just leave the timeshare to go kayaking a few minutes ago?

We did. That, I remember. We packed up the van. Strapped the kayaks to the roof. Stopped to buy more sunscreen.

Didn’t we? Or was that last year?

Was it raining? I think I remember rain.

It’s all blurry.

I mean, time always flies by during our summers here. It’s not that unusual for me to lose track of it.

But not of your memory.

It’s fine. It will all be fine. I refuse to enter into that line of conversation again with my inner voice. After all, there’s only so much time left. It’s our last summer here as a family, and I want to enjoy every minute of it.

The sign that says Welcome to Logan’s Beach glows green under the fading light as I approach. Every week during the summer, there’s either a large black spray-painted phallus across the lettering or a patch of paint covering said phallus.

Today, it’s a paint patch.

I smile to myself as I slowly walk past the sign. My feet ache from walking. Always the drama queen, I hear Mallory complaining about hers behind me, and I roll my eyes.

Mom assures her we are almost there. I reply with a sarcastic “Are we there yet?”

Nobody laughs but Papa.

I listen on as Papa tells a bad knock-knock joke that makes my sisters and my mom simultaneously groan. Papa’s weird like me. Not only do we share the same high IQ, but also the same cheesy sense of humor. I’m the only one who laughs at his joke, and I’m rewarded with one of his famous winks.

Mindy chides me for encouraging him and groans even louder when he starts telling another joke.

Tormenting my sisters is even somehow sweeter here.

Even sharing a bathroom with my three sisters is more tolerable here than it is at home, and the one at home has two sinks where the one in the timeshare only has one.

As we walk, I’m leaving a snail-like trail of water on the pavement behind me. My clothes have gone from wet to damp under the heat of the sun. My jean shorts chafe at the inside of my thighs, rubbing the skin raw with each step. My wild mass of hair is a deranged sponge, and once it’s wet, it leaks like a runny faucet until I can find a towel and a blow dryer because air drying is not an option.

Maya notices my wet trail and jokes that I should be on one of those Sham-wow infomercials. Not as the salesperson shouting about how fabulous the water-absorbent