The Summer of Lost Wishes by Jessa Gabrielle Read Free Book Online

taken me somewhere
away from the general public so I could keep reading this morning.
Breakfast could have waited.
    The waitress brings our drinks and takes our
order. Once she’s out of earshot, Rooks leans forward on his elbows
to speak.
    But the words that come out of his mouth are
eaten away by the noise of metal chairs scraping against the wooden
flooring. The congregation of Coral Sands elders disperses, and one
of the old guys walks our way.
    “Mr. Carter,” he says. “Nice to see you back
around here. You staying with your dad for the summer?”
    Rooks nods. “Yes, sir. He’s got me working
hard,” he says. “It may not look like it, but I’m actually on the
job right now.”
    The man glances my way, barely, and returns
his gaze to Rooks.
    “This is Piper,” Rooks says, nodding across
the table to me. “She just moved in next door to me. My dad and I
are helping her and her mom restore the place.” Then he looks to
me. “Piper, this is Mac.”
    Mac smiles. “Michael Alan Crawford, the
third,” he says. “But it was always easier just to be Mac. It’s
nice to meet you. I wasn’t sure if the Calloway Cottage had really
been bought or if it was just a rumor. You never know in this town.
Full of myths and gossip.”
    I wonder for a second if there’s any logic
behind that statement or if he’s just making small talk. Do people
really believe the Shark Island tragedy was just a myth? Foul play,
maybe? God. Why does some old guy have to get me questioning all
the things I’ve already questioned even more? And where the hell is
our breakfast so we can hurry up and get out of here?
    Mac tells Rooks to let him know if he and Mr.
Carter need any help and then tells us to have a great day before
exiting the restaurant.
    “Okay, so what was that all about?” I ask, as
soon as the old man is officially in the parking lot. I lean
forward on my elbows waiting for an answer.
    “Oh, I’ve known Mac for years now,” Rooks
says. “He’s retired from carpentry work, and he helped my dad and
me redo our driveway last year.”
    I shake my head. “No, not that. Coral Sands
has myths?” I ask.
    Rooks checks around us before he says
anything. “Some people think maybe there’s more to the story,” he
explains. “You know, like maybe one of them actually set the whole
thing up or maybe it was a suicide pact. People talk in small
towns, and when you have a legendary tragedy like that, things get
twisted.”
    I glance up at the lighting above us. Wooden
slats line the ceiling with saucers and coffee cups hanging upside
down, like someone set the table and flipped it. Light bulbs dangle
from inside the cups.
    “What do you think?” I ask, looking away from
the clever coffee shop lighting and back at Rooks. “Do you think
there’s more to it?”
    He shrugs. “I think there’s a reason they
went out there,” he says. “But I don’t know if I believe in a set
up or anything like that. Something happened or maybe something was
meant to happen, but whatever it was, it was cut short. And I’m
hoping you have the key to unlock whatever their reason was.”

Chapter
Seven
    I heave my beach bag onto my shoulder as
Rooks leaves a few dollar bills on the table for a tip. Mom
demanded that I take cash with me this morning – before the Carters
showed up – and instructed me not to let Rooks pay for anything
because she didn’t want him thinking this was a date in any way,
shape, or form. But I wasn’t about to step on the boy’s ego when he
insisted that he pay for breakfast.
    “Waterfront Café isn’t all that popular with
the tourists,” Rooks says as he pulls his seatbelt over his chest.
“But it’s the best place around here for coffee and breakfast.
That’s why all the locals go there. It’s not in the heart of
town.”
    I place my bag in the floorboard of his
truck, even though I’m dying to pull that paper stack out right now
and read the next installment in Love Letters of Seth and Hanna.
But I