Free Stone Cove Island by Suzanne Myers Page B

instead of the crazy afternoon. My phone sat on my desk next to my chemistry notebook, punishing me with its silence. My parents had gone out. Dad volunteered as a coach of the high school swim team, and he had a team dinner. Mom had gone with him. She never went to things like that. I chose to take it as a good sign.
    The electricity had gone out again. Dad had rigged battery-powered work lanterns around the house before he’d gone, but it meant I couldn’t use my computer and my cell phone’s battery would be dead soon. It also meant no hot water. It was almost more demoralizing for the power to go out again now that it had been restored, but I was getting the idea that this was how it was going to be for a while, everything on and off. That was certainly how it was with food in the grocery store these days. The transport schedule was cut severely by the loss of the ferry, and the big ships couldn’t come all the way into the harbor, so the fresh fruits and vegetables looked sad and less than plentiful.
    As long as we still had a supply of propane, our stove was our most reliable appliance, so Mom had been compulsively baking: applesauce bread, pumpkin bread, zucchini bread (sad zucchini worked fine for this). Normally at this time of year she obsessively made soup, so I was glad she’d found another outlet during our current situation. Things are always much better when she’s kept busy. Maybe I could get her Cat Pender’s banana bread recipe.
    Instead of algebra II or chemistry, I was thinking about Charlie. Or, more precisely, I was wondering what Charlie was thinking of me. How premeditated had that kiss been for either of us? Had I missed some undercurrent all these hours we’d been hanging out? Now that it had happened, I couldn’t stop dwelling on it, of course. It felt weird that I had left so abruptly before we could a) do it some more, or b) at least talk about it. He hadn’t texted me. I checked my phone for the hundredth time. Seventeen percent battery left until who knew when the electricity would be restored. Did I have to wait to hear from him? I didn’t, right? I tapped a quick text onto the screen and hit SEND before I could reconsider. hiya. sorry i had to run. so weird with your mom! you ok? I reread it. The exclamation point looked dorky. Too late.
    I set the phone back down and watched it. Nothing happened. I went to the kitchen and took a couple of graham crackers from a glass jar. They were a little stale, but I didn’t really mind. Then I went back to my room to recheck the still-blank screen on my text messages.
Come on, Charlie!
What was he doing? I flopped onto my bed with my phone in hand. Salty jumped up and curled up behindmy knees. Thirteen percent. I closed my eyes just as the phone buzzed. A text from Charlie. yeah. sorry about that. Sorry about what? I shook the phone. I stared at it, waiting for more. Sorry about his mom walking in? Sorry about kissing me? I wrote, maybe jay or library aft. school tom.? He wrote back, don’t think i can. told dad would help here. sorry.
    Sorry, sorry, sorry. What was he so sorry about suddenly? Hadn’t he kissed me first? I waited for another text that never came. I changed for bed. I took a halfhearted stab at my problem set. Then I heard my parents come in. My mom was speaking to my dad in a quiet, urgent whisper. I couldn’t make out anything she said. He shushed her and the house fell silent a moment before he called out to me.
    “Eliza? It’s almost eleven.”
    “Okay, Dad.” I climbed into bed and clicked off the lantern. My cell phone had run down completely. I was tired of circling around inside my head. Maybe I would figure it all out tomorrow.
    In the morning, the house was deserted. Dad hadn’t made coffee, which was unusual, but maybe he had to be on the job site extra early. He was working on replacing the roof at the Anchor Club. The job was proving to be a pain, he’d told me, because of all the landmark preservation