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Prologue

Diana

October 21, Adria, Italy

In the shadowy silence of the tomb, my uneven footsteps echoed off the walls. Flicking on my flashlight, I crossed the first chamber, damp fall leaves still clinging to my boots. I didn’t know if it was raindrops or tears running down my cheeks. It didn’t matter. I swiped at them angrily so that they wouldn’t obscure the cracked and faded fresco on the far wall—the one that had sent me on this wild adventure in the first place.

The beam of light fell on the image. The scene was so eerily familiar, as if the artist had spied on me through the kaleidoscope of ages and etched my own memory on the walls of the tomb.

There were three of them—a woman with red hair like mine and two men. And they were dancing. Ocean waves tickled their toes, and high above the moon was full and heavy with promise. In the center of it all wispy lines crossed the sky, and where the shooting star should be, there was a jagged crater. At some point in the almost two thousand years this image had existed, someone had stolen it, and in doing so, had given the crypt its name: The Tomb of the Lost Star.

There was a star in my memory too. The memory I wanted to go back to, so I could have another day where it was just the three of us. Josh, my brother, who’d been gone for nearly a decade now. And Levi. My brother’s best friend.

I was sixteen that summer. The summer we found the star, the summer that the first boy I ever loved broke my heart. I closed my eyes and the stale air of the tomb disappeared, replaced by the scent of the cedar tree and the gentle babbling of the creek where I’d been digging for arrowheads that summer.

In the memory, I plunged my shovel into the dirt with a satisfying grunt. I’d started digging early that morning and was already knee deep in a hole that was as large as the wingspan of my skinny arms, which had grown tired and wobbly like overcooked spaghetti. Something glittered in the dark earth, and I scratched it with my ragged nails. They were black with dirt, as were my clothes. If I was lucky, I’d get back early enough to take a shower or at least swap my muddy jeans for a clean pair before Levi got back.

My heart fluttered like it always had when I thought about my brother’s best friend. He was the only one who took my archaeological digs seriously or at least pretended to. And I’d already bragged to him about my latest excavation site near the creek that ran behind our house and wasn’t about to come home empty-handed.

My stomach growled. I’d forgotten to eat again but I’d make up for that at dinner. Nonna was making chicken piccata, my favorite. I was practically salivating thinking about it. I was so hungry I could swear I smelled hot dog.

Ignoring my hunger pains, I extracted Josh’s toothbrush from my back pocket. I’d taken it after he’d spent most of the morning teasing me after finding my journal in the rec room. On the cover I’d scrawled my future married name: Diana Jasinski. He’d always known about my crush on his best friend. It was kind of obvious since I’d been following the two of them around like a lost puppy for three summers.

I brushed the top layer of dirt away with the bent bristles of the toothbrush and concentrated on the arrowhead. This was the most delicate part of the extraction. A few more inches and . . . splash! A giant splotch of yellow mustard landed on my hand just as something else beaned me in the head.

“Hey!” I rubbed my head and looked at the offending projectile, which had landed next to my foot. A half-eaten pickle smeared with ketchup. I gagged. Ever since Josh had “as a joke” made me a peanut butter and pickle sandwich the mere sight of those disgusting vinegar bombs made me run for the toilet.

Besides Josh there was only one other person who knew how much I hated pickles. I stood up, swiping at my dirty knees and planted my hands on hips. Glaring up into the tree at the same time my stomach was doing somersaults, I shouted, “Jasinski, I know you’re up there.”

“Been here for a while, Jones. You just noticed?” He chuckled and dropped a large, sneaker-clad foot from the highest branch. New Jordans, almost pristine white. I couldn’t help myself. I picked up that ketchup-smeared pickle and chucked it at his shoes. It landed right on target with a satisfying thump.

“Hey, now that was uncalled for!” Levi’s head popped up over the branch and I gaped up at him. He was so beautiful. Golden light filtered around his ruffled, dark blond hair and burnished his smooth tan skin. His eyes were as blue as the Colorado sky.

“What was uncalled for was throwing that detestable thing at my head!” I pointed at the pickle.

“First of all,” Levi said, swinging his long, tan legs over the branch and reaching out for the lower rung with strong arms. “I didn’t throw it at you. It slipped out of my hot dog.”

So, I had smelled hot dog. My stomach rumbled again as he elegantly shimmied down the trunk of the tree and hopped down in front of me with a loud thud. My eyes ran over his naked torso. Since last year, his shoulders had gotten wider and his abs more defined. The acne that had bothered him last summer had cleared up and the skin under his cheekbones was golden and smooth like the rest of his body. And that dimple in his chin! How was it possible for a boy to be that beautiful? The butterflies started to take flight again, but I wasn’t about to let him notice, so I crossed my arms and flattened my lips.

“And that’s no way to greet someone who comes bearing food.” Levi smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. Then he swung his arm around my neck, pulling me against his warm chest and ruffled my already frizzy hair. I could have stayed there forever breathing him in—he smelled like grass and sunscreen and boy—so familiar and weirdly nostalgic. Then as quickly he drew away and opened his backpack. “I was waiting for you figure out someone was watching you. Took you too long, Indy. I could have easily knocked you out and taken off with your treasure.”

I rolled my eyes at his nickname for me—Indy, as in Indiana Jones. Okay, I wanted to be an archaeologist and my middle name happened to be Jones (it’s a long story . . .), but apart from that I had nothing in common with the fictional film character, and I didn’t appreciate being nicknamed after a man, even if young Harrison Ford was undeniably hot.

I held my hand out. “All right then, hand it over.”

Levi extracted a hot dog wrapped in tin foil from his backpack along with a bottle of water. He started to hand it to me, then stopped midair. Eyes twinkling, he said, “Wait a minute, aren’t you vegan?”

“I was for about five minutes last summer,” I replied, surprised he’d remembered. “I intend to be vegetarian one day, but I’m still growing.”

His blue eyes roamed over my gray tank top and old cargo pants that I’d raided from Josh’s closet. I’d always been a tomboy and Levi had always seen me that way, but I was hoping one day, he’d see me as the girl I wanted to become. He raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Could’ve fooled me.”

I swatted at him, trying to ignore the hurt that twisted my gut as I glanced down at my 32A chest. I’d been hoping to fill out this summer and had believed I’d wake up on my sixteenth birthday and magically have a nice set of boobs, but alas . . . that had never been in the cards. I wouldn’t be filling out those new dresses that my mom had bought for me. She’d been so excited that I’d finally shown an interest in makeup and clothes.

I snatched the hot dog out of his hand and, ripping off the aluminum foil, took a huge bite. You’d think I hadn’t eaten in days by how quickly I devoured the thing. Only after I was wiping the crumbs off my lip did I realize that it had been topped with all my favorite ingredients—spicy mustard, grilled onions, and fresh tomatoes. Levi watched me with the corner of his mouth turned up.

“So, did I get the toppings right?” he asked as he passed me a water bottle that was still cold and covered with dew. Every summer barbecue my dad manned the grill and Levi handled dressing of hamburgers, hot dogs, sandwiches, and even the ice cream. I was touched that he remembered what I liked. The water bottle too was filled with mint and watermelon to give it a special flavor.

“Yeah, thanks.” I beamed at him, my whole body warming at the special attention.