"That's all I need to know." Raw and bitter pain filled Perry's colorchanging eyes and for a second all Kylie could think about was feeling that same hurt when she'd seen Trey with his new girlfriend plastered at his side. Then there was the pain of seeing Mandy kiss Derek. And don't forget when she learned that Lucas had run off with Fredericka.

"That's not fair," Miranda said.

"Oh, it's not fair, but that's just too bad," Perry said. "It could have been good between us." He turned around and walked away.

He got about ten feet down the path when Miranda called out to him.

"Aren't you curious about why I didn't stop him?"

Perry turned around and faced her. "I'm more curious as to why you think I should care."

Miranda's breath seemed to catch at Perry's words. She took several steps closer to him. "I didn't stop Kevin because ... because I was tired of waiting for you to kiss me."

"Really?" Perry's feet ate up the few feet between him and Miranda.

His right arm swept around her and pulled her against him. He didn't pause or even hesitate. He kissed her-not just a light peck, either. It looked to Kylie like the good kind of kiss, the kind Derek had given her last night. The kind of kiss a girl could feel all the way to her toes. And from the way Miranda leaned into Perry, Kylie could guess that Miranda's toes were feeling it all.

"Wow," Kylie muttered, and grinned.

"Yeah, wow." Della leaned in closer. "I think Perry just grew a pair."

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Kylie bit down on her lip to keep from laughing. "If this was a movie, there would be some music playing in the background."

"I could sing," Della chuckled.

"And ruin it," Kylie teased back. "I've heard you singing in the shower." Both grinning, they looked back at the kissing couple.

Perry dropped his arms and stepped back. The abruptness with which the kiss ended seemed wrong. And it wasn't just Kylie who thought so. Miranda barely managed to catch herself.

Perry stared at Miranda, his expression not exactly one a person expected to see on a guy's face who'd just kissed a girl silly. The anger and hurt Kylie had noted earlier in Perry's eyes hadn't been wiped away with the kiss. If anything, he looked even angrier now.

"That," Perry said, his tone mirroring the emotion in his eyes. "That was just to show you that I would have been worth waiting for."

"Would have?" Miranda asked, her voice shaky.

"Yeah, would have." Perry turned and started walking away. But he stuck his right hand back and shot her the bird.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Figure it out," he said, but didn't look back.

Miranda swung back toward Kylie and Della. She put a hand to her lips and her eyes grew bright with moisture.

"Oh, crap." Kylie's heart clutched for her friend.

"Jerk," Della called out at Perry.

Holiday came running around the trail. She stopped and looked at the three of them and the departing Perry. "What just happened?" Holiday asked.

"Nothing," Della said.

Holiday glanced from Della to a teary-eyed Miranda who stood frozen watching Perry leave. Then the camp leader looked back at Della. "I heard it."

"Okay ... almost nothing," Della said, and shrugged.

Holiday, as if reading Miranda's emotional havoc, walked over and wrapped an arm around Miranda. "Come on, let's go talk?"

"What are you doing?" Della asked, stumbling into the kitchen at two a.m.

Kylie looked up from the computer screen. "Using a sledgehammer to make another window."

Della took a step back. "Are you having one of those funky dreams again?"

Kylie smiled. "No. I'm looking to see how many Brightens there are in the Dallas area."

"How many what?" Della dropped down at the kitchen table.

"Brightens. My dad's name was Brighten and Mom told me that his parents were in Dallas when they met. Since Daniel can't tell me what I am, I've got to find it out myself."

"But I thought ... Didn't you tell me he was adopted?"

"Yeah." Kylie looked back at the screen and frowned. "Damn, there are over a hundred Brightens in the metropolitan Dallas area. Who knew that was such a popular name?"

"If he was adopted then how is this going to help you figure out what you are?" Della leaned over to peer at the screen.

"Maybe they will help me find his real parents."

"I'd love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation. 'Hey, Grandma and Grandpa, I'm your granddaughter you never knew you had, but not really since I know you adopted my dad who died before I was born and I really don't care about you guys, I just want to know my real grandparents.'"

Kylie frowned at Della. "You are not helping me any."

"I'm just calling it like I see it."

"Well, I wish you wouldn't." Kylie closed her eyes and tried to hold on to the tiniest bit of hope she had. But deep down she was afraid Della was right. The chances of actually finding the Brightens were near impossible.

Getting them to tell her about his birth parents when she shouldn't even know he was adopted, well, it was probably going to take more than a sledgehammer to open that window.

"Hey," Della said, and nudged her shoulder. "Print up those numbers and Miranda and I can help you call them."

Kylie looked back at Della. "You would do that?"

"You gave me blood," Della said.

"Yeah, I did," Kylie said, and looked back at the computer screen. Then mentally she picked back up the sledgehammer and hit the print button.

"Let me go! Let me go!"

Two mornings later, something startled Kylie awake. Confused as to why she struggled in her own bed, she snapped open her eyes. The steam of her own breath floated above her face in snake-like patterns. The frigid air in the room told the time. Dawn.

She pulled the covers up to her neck and closed her eyes. And bam. The dream she'd just lived came crashing down on her.

Let me go! Let me go!

She heard her own scream like an echo, as if it was just now bouncing back from the dark corners of her bedroom. Her heart raced, pounded against her chest bone like a trapped animal. Thump. Thump. Thump. She wadded fistfuls of blanket in her hands and mentally fought being pulled back into the nightmare. Her efforts were futile. The dream became her reality.

Cloth ties cut into her arms as someone attempted to tie her down. Blinking, she tried to focus, but her vision seemed impaired.

Everything seemed impaired. Her head swam. She counted one, two, maybe three smeared and blurry figures standing over her. She kicked her legs, but an overwhelming sluggishness hampered her strength.




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