What It Takes (Windy Harbor #2)

Prologue

THE DAY WE ME

JULIANA

I held the plate with both hands, but it was still wobbly.

So heavy. My fingers hurt a little, but I could see the stand Daddy helped me make, and I wasn’t far.

I needed to get there before the tablecloth blew away.

The paper sign that said “Cookies” was crooked, but it was okay. I thought I’d done a good job.

I took one slow step. And another.

Then…oh no, oh no.

The plate tilted and then crashed. Cookies fell in the grass, and a couple even rolled under the bush.

I froze. My eyes watered and my nose burned.

I wanted to cry really bad. I’d worked so hard on those cookies.

I stirred the dough with the big wooden spoon all by myself.

Mommy let me use the oven with the timer and her oven mitts and even let me take the cookies out of the oven.

They were supposed to be perfect for my first cookie stand in our new neighborhood.

Now they were ruined.

Before I had time to be too upset, tires squeaked on the sidewalk. A boy on a blue bike hopped off and tossed his bike on the grass. He had dark hair, and his eyes were bluer than his bike. He crouched down next to me.

“Are those the cookies for that stand over there?” he asked.

I nodded.

He started picking up cookies, brushing the grass off with his fingers. I watched as he held one up.

“Thirty-second rule. It’s still good,” he said and popped it in his mouth.

“Hey!” I said, forgetting that I wanted to cry. “My mom says that’s not true.”

His eyes widened. “Well, that’s what we do at my house, and I’m not dead yet.”

He laughed and then chewed the cookie, his face turning serious, and then a slow smile spread across his face. “Wow. These are really good. Did your mom make them?”

I straightened. “No, I made them. That’ll be fifty cents.”

His eyebrows lifted.

“I’m Camden,” he said, stacking the cookies back on the plate. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a quarter.

“Does this work? Since I saved the cookies and all.” He laughed.

“You can just keep it,” I said. “Thanks for saving them.”

“Thanks! And…you’re welcome.” He grinned.

He carried the plate to the stand and I followed, hurriedly dusting off a few strands of grass from the cookies.

“I’m seven,” he said. “I make pancakes and scrambled eggs. And Dad says my grilled hamburgers are better than his.”

I grin. “I’m Juju. I’m five.”

Camden blinked. “Oh. Five.”

My head tilted. “What?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “My little sister’s five. She still thinks unicorns are real, and she named her goldfish Ariel.”

I frowned. I loved Ariel. And unicorns.

“Juju!” Jackson called.

“I’m at the cookie stand,” I yelled back. To Camden, I said, “That’s my brother. He’s seven too. We like to ride bikes, and we play video games together every day. We climb trees…go swimming…”

I wanted Camden to know I was just as good a bike rider and video game player as my brother.

And I didn’t just sit inside with my Barbies, but I really liked them too.

Well, maybe I wasn’t as good as Jackson at all the bikes and games and tree stuff…

I also couldn’t do flips in the water like he could, but I bet I could soon.

“Cool,” Camden said, and I got this warm feeling in my chest.

He showed me where his house was, and I showed him mine.

“That’s why the cookie stand is here, right?” he said.

“Oh. Right,” I said, my face feeling hot.

“And my brothers and I saw you moving in last week.” He grinned and I relaxed.

“You have brothers too?”

“I have three brothers and one sister.”

I wasn’t sure I’d want more than one brother. Jackson was enough for me. I wouldn’t mind a sister, though.

Jackson came around the side of the house, bouncing his basketball. He stopped when he saw Camden and me.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Camden said.

“This is Camden,” I said. “He lives over there.” I pointed at his house.

“I like basketball,” Camden said.

Jackson lit up. “Yeah? Wanna play?” He motioned toward the hoop near the garage.

“Yeah!” Camden said.

And they took off.

I stared after them and kicked a rock. I liked basketball too, but they didn’t even ask if I wanted to play. I kicked the rock all the way to my cookie stand and sat down on the chair, looking down the street to see if anyone was around who might want a cookie.

I sat there forever. And no one came. I was about to give up when a girl came running out of Camden’s house. Her hair was like mine—bright and yellow. It was in a ponytail and it swished when she ran. When she saw me, she gave me a wide grin and ran over.

“Hi!” she said. “You’re our new neighbor!”

“Yes!” I couldn’t help but be excited because she looked so happy to see me.

She gasped when she looked down and saw the plate. “You have cookies!”

I handed her one without caring if she paid for it or not. She bit into it and her eyes got wide.

“Mmm! These are good.” She chewed a little more.

“I’m Marigold, but everyone calls me Goldie.

” She looked over my shoulder at Camden and Jackson playing.

“That’s my brother, and I have three other brothers too.

” She wrinkled her nose. “I wish there was another girl in there somewhere, but they’re pretty nice too.

Tully is my twin, Dylan is my little brother, and Noah is the oldest.”

“Wow. A twin. My grandpa is a twin! Is it sad having the same birthday?”

She shook her head. “No, because Mom and Dad make it special for both of us. There are lots of twins at school, you’ll see.” Her head tilted. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

I grinned. “My name is Juliana, but everyone calls me Juju.”

“We both have nicknames!” she said, laughing. “Do you like unicorns?”

“I love them!” I said so fast.

“Me too. My room is all unicorns. And Ariel. Do you like Ariel?”

“Your brother said you liked unicorns and Ariel.” I nodded. “I do too. Ariel is the best princess. She sings the best songs.”

Goldie smiled so big. “You should come over to my house, and we can watch Ariel with my unicorns.”

“I can’t wait!”

Maybe Camden didn’t think being five was cool, but Goldie was the coolest five-year-old I’d ever met.