Isla

26.

2 6 | t h i r r o u l

I FROWNED, flipping the paper over in my hands. I'd received my school schedule last night, which meant term one was fast approaching.

I glared down at the black printed lines and typed letters. Mondays were the worst. A double period of chemistry at eight in the morning? Not fun. And then after lunch, another double period of English. I felt tired just imagining it.

A part of me wished I'd spent my summer doing what Everett had suggested – catching up on sleep and resting before school started.

But there was no use thinking about it now. There were still two weeks of summer left, and I was going to make the most of it. I shoved the timetable into my school bag and tossed it into the corner of my room, quickly pulling on my sneakers.

"And where are you going?"

I turned to see my mum standing at the open door to my room. She sent me a teasing smile, her eyes sparkling.

Where my dad was all warmth and golden smiles, my mother was full of teasing smirks and mischievous looks – like she always knew something you didn't. I'd inherited her brown skin and eyes, but where my hair fell in long, loose curls, hers was wavy and cropped short.

I raised a brow at her. "There's a party down at the beach. I'm meeting the others there."

"The others, huh?" My mother's smile grew. "And is that boy going to be there?"

My face warmed and I avoided her eyes. "Yes, Mum, Austin will be there."

"I wasn't talking about Austin."

I blinked, furrowing my brow. "What?"

"I meant that cute boy who came around a few weeks back. You know. Dark hair, kind of gloomy, American accent?"

I groaned. God, I'd forgotten they met. "Everett?"

"That's the one," she said, grinning. "He was a lovely boy."

"Oh, please," I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "Lovely is an overstatement."

"He was! He came looking for you. Called me Mrs Monroe and everything. I haven't been called that since –"

Since dad died.

She cleared her throat, shaking her head. "He's Mrs Clemente's grandson, isn't he?"

"Yeah, Mum," I said quickly. I pressed a kiss to her cheek, using it as a distraction to slide past her. "He'll be there. Don't wait up for me, okay?"

"Alright, Isla," she said, raising a brow. "But stay safe, okay?"

"Yes, Mum!"

"And tell Everett I said hi!"

I groaned internally. "Yes, Mum."

"Love you!"

"Love you, too," I replied, shouting as I locked the front door behind me. I jogged down the steps, hopping onto my bike and immediately zipping down the hill towards Clemente House, eager to get away from this conversation.

I'd never asked my mum about what really happened when Everett visited. I thought he'd been joking when he said he went in for tea, but now that she was asking about him – my face warmed. I wondered what else they'd spoken about.

A part of me didn't want to know.

When I reached the towering bed and breakfast, Everett was already waiting on the porch. He spotted me first, making his way to the footpath as I hopped off my bike.