seniors were expelled yesterday. There's a rule about smoking in

uniform so Karen Jones, Mary Alice Pleasinger, and Tomisina

Gibralti stripped down to their slips in the locker room and lit

up. Most of the girls think it was cool, but Mother Superior

doesn't have much of a sense of humor.

With a laugh, Johnno pushed aside the salad, lifted his wine, and

settled into the letter.

I've been thinking a lot lately about Dad, and you and the

others. I've seen the stories about Stevie, and I hate the things

everyone's saying about him. Have you seen him? Is he all tight?

The picture I have came from the London Times and makes

him look so old and sick. I don't want to believe that he's a

drug addict, but I'm not a child. Dad won't talk to me about it,

so I'm asking you. You ahvays tell me the truth. Some of the

girls say that all rock singers are drug addicts. Some of the girls

are complete a.s.ses.

Gossip manages to get through the walls here, too. I have the

article and the pictures of Bev and Dad and P.M. fivm People.

Jane was in the picture, too. I don't want to call her my mother.

Please don't tell Dad that I wrote you about it. He gets so upset

and it doesn't change anything. I was upset at first, but I thought

about it for a long time. It's okay if Bev loves P.M, isn't it? It

almost makes it like she's family again.

I guess I'm really writing to ask you to look after Dad. I know

he pretends he doesn't think about Bev anymore, that he doesn't

love her. But he does. I can tell. When I get out of schooh I'll be

able to take care of him myself I'm going to have a base in

New York with Marianne, and I can travel all over with him,

taking pictures.

The one enclosed is a self-portrait. I took it last weele. Note the

earrings. Mapionne pierced my ears, and I nearly fainted. I

haven't broken the news to Dad yet, so keep mum, will you?

Spring break's just nine days off, and that should be soon

enough for him to see the damage himself Dad says we'll spend

Easter on Martinique. Please come, Johnno. Please.

I love you,

Emma

And what was he supposed to do about Emma? Johnno wondered. He could

show the letter to Brian and say "Look, read this and straighten your

a.s.s up. Your daughter needs you." And if he did, neither Brian nor Emma

would forgive him.

She was growing up, and growing up fast. Pierced ears, training bras,

and philosophy. Brian wouldn't be able to keep her in a bubble much

longer.

Well, he would try to be there when the blow came, for both of them.

Tilting back his gla.s.s, he drained the wine. And it looked as though

he'd be spending a few days in Martinique.

WITH THE WHITE SAND heating under him, and his rum growing warm, Brian

watched his daughter cut through the surf. What was she racing against?

he wondered. Why did she always seem to be in a hurry to get from one