Free Stone Cove Island by Suzanne Myers

aren’t in school anymore?” I complained.
    “Luck has nothing to do with it. It’s talent,” he said. “That combined with old age. Anyway, come January, I will be in school. Remember?” Right. He was starting at Northwestern.
    “Yeah. That’s different though. College.” I said. “Hey, that doesn’t leave you much more time at the
Globe
.”
    “Yeah,” he said. He looked wistful, but I wasn’t sure why. As far as I’d heard, Northwestern’s journalism school had been his big dream forever. Maybe being at a real, live newspaper had made him anxious to get out into the world and get on with things. He cut a big piece of banana bread and handed it to me on a paper towel. “Here. Colleen makes this for the inn. My mom’s recipe.”
    I took the banana bread. I was starving, I realized. “It’s so good,” I said, trying to hide my full mouth with my hand. “Wow.”
    “One of my mom’s many secrets,” he said. “Definitely one of my favorite secrets.”
    “Listen,” I said. “I’m not interrupting, am I?”
    Charlie smiled. “No way. How is life back at school? It must be super weird with kids living in the building.”
    I nodded. “Some showed up for class in pj’s and slippers.” He laughed. I went on. “I asked around a little about Bess. Just a few kids. And I didn’t say anything about the letter.”
    “Yeah? Speaking of the letter, have you heard from Officer Bailey?”
    “No,” I said. “I’m sure she’s busy with the storm cleanup.But I think it’s weird. I sort of want to get it over with, whatever she’s going to say to me.”
    “It’ll be fine.” For a second he put his hand over mine on the table. It was warm and dry. I hoped mine didn’t feel greasy or sticky from the banana bread. Then he moved it away. “Eliza, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
    “I know,” I said. “But somehow, every time the subject comes up, I feel like I’m trespassing or something. Like today, I brought up the murder with a couple of girls I saw in the library, Meredith, some sailing team kids and then with my chemistry lab partner. I just wanted to know if they’d ever heard about it. By the end of the day, Mr. Malloy—did you have him for English? You must have, right?” Charlie nodded.
    “So, Mr. Malloy pulls me aside after class this afternoon and tells me not to start rumors and get people all upset.”
    “That’s kind of weird,” Charlie said. “I think of him as one of the more easygoing teachers. What’d you find out talking to people?”
    “Nothing. No one had ever heard anything about it.” I watched to see if he would react the same way I had.
    “You’re kidding,” he said after it had all sunk in. He knew I wasn’t. “Wow. I don’t even know how you—how is that possible? Everyone on the island agreed not to talk about it and it’s never come up again? In twenty-five years?”
    “I know,” I said. “That’s why I feel so—I’m kind of freaking out.” There weren’t many boys I could confess something like that to, but at that moment with Charlie, I didn’t hesitate.
    “Don’t worry,” he said. “It was a long time ago. Nothinglike that has happened since. I think everyone feels stirred up by the storm, right? That’s why Malloy was weird with you. That’s why it’s getting to us more than it would normally.”
    “You too?” I asked. He nodded. I sort of wished he would take my hand again. “Don’t let that get around though. I don’t want to wreck my rep. And I hear you like to spread rumors.” Now I wanted to smack him, not hold hands. I laughed.
    “What rep, Charlie? Your loner, misanthrope intellectual poet rep?”
    “I had one poem published—ONE—in the
Stone Cove Quarterly
in eleventh grade.” It was a joke, our school’s literary journal. There were so few of us, they basically made everyone write something to submit. But you didn’t have to write a poem. And they weren’t all chosen.
    “Right,” I said. “I remember