Spain or Shine Read Online Free PDF Page A

sending sprays of sand up into the air. It hit her—she was in Spain.
    Elena looked up at the cool green mountains flanking the bay and decided it would be hard to feel stressed or unhappy here. In fact, not a single person seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere. At home she was constantly surrounded by people rushing from one place to another. Time seemed to unfurl more gently here.
    She wondered what Claire was doing now. If she were here, she would probably be splashing in the waves with the kids, daring Elena to loosen up and get her feet wet. In honor of Claire she walked out toward the ocean and dipped her feet in, letting the water climb up to her shins.
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    After sitting on the beach for a few more minutes while her feet dried, Elena stood up, brushed the sand off her pants, and headed toward the road. On her way back up the Paseo, she passed a small shop that was opening. Elena hustled through, looking for a food aisle. She finally found the snack section, grabbed a cylindrical red paper-wrapped package that appeared to be chocolate-filled cookies, and headed toward the register at the front. On the way, she passed a display of postcards and grabbed three cards with photos of the beach at sunset and placed them on the counter.
    â€œÂ¿Cuánto cuesta?” she asked. A little chill shimmied up her spine; she was using Spanish in Spain. But when the woman behind the counter answered her question, the words jumbled together in midair. By the time they reached Elena’s ears they were just a tangle of syllables.
    â€œUh, sorry. How much?” she stammered, a flush of pink spreading up her neck and into her cheeks.
    The woman repeated her answer in Spanish, but Elena still didn’t understand. Her palms broke out in a sweat.
    â€œUm, do you speak English?” she stammered. “¿Usted habla inglés?”
    The woman shook her head. A line was beginning to form behind her. Finally, a Spanish teenager stepped forward and acted as a translator.
    â€œThose cost three euro, fifty.”
    Elena dug through her pink corduroy shoulder bag and fumbled with the money she’d exchanged at the airport. When the woman handed her the postcards and cookies tucked in a thin plastic bag, Elena nodded quickly as a thank-you and jetted out the door. She was so embarrassed that she just wanted to evaporate into the air.
    She decided to cut her solo tour short and head back up the promenade to the apartment. After shuffling up the stairs, she paused at the second-floor landing and swore she heard English being spoken on the other side of the door, followed by ripples of laughter. It seemed odd that the Cruzes would be speaking English among themselves.
    When she opened the door, she found four sets of eyes directed at her. Only three of them were familiar.
    â€œElena, how was your walk?” Señora Cruz asked, standing up to greet her.
    â€œIt was nice. You were right about the beach being packed, but it was so beautiful,” Elena answered, without taking her eyes off the girl sitting on the couch next to Señor Cruz. She had pale blond hair and golden skin, and she peered up at Elena with wide brown eyes. She might not have been quite as beautiful as Elena’s sister, but she probably turned more than a few heads.
    â€œWe have a surprise visitor,” Señora Cruz said, nodding in the direction of the unfamiliar girl. “This is Jenna.”
    Jenna stood up and teetered across the room on wedge sandals, hand extended.
    â€œHi,” she said, pumping Elena’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Señora Cruz said you’re from California. That’s awesome. I’m from Phoenix.”
    â€œOh. Cool.” Elena had the feeling she was missing something. “Are you staying with the Cruzes, too?” she ventured.
    Jenna laughed. “Well, sort of.”
    â€œJenna is in the S.A.S.S. program, just like you, Elena,” Señora Cruz explained. “She is