Isla

22.

2 2 | s h e l l  h a r b o u r

I WHEELED MY BIKE TOWARDS CLEMENTE HOUSE, my mind whirring. My phone burned at my pocket, painfully silent.

I hadn't spoken to Austin since Everett had pulled me off the Nauti Buoy yesterday. A part of me had thought about texting him, apologising first like I always did, but then I remembered his stare as the boat peeled away from the pier. I remembered him inviting Mia to our private island and our hang outs, and my mind quickly changed.

But he still hadn't texted me, and I knew he probably wouldn't until I reached out first.

I frowned, pausing when I reached the porch and Everett was nowhere to be found. I left my bike beside the railing and waited a moment, glancing at the time on my phone.

A minute passed, then another, and there was still no sign of Everett.

My shoulders sagged in exhaustion and I released a breath. First Austin and now this? I was going to be late. I tapped my foot impatiently, glancing anxiously between my phone and the door.

Another minute passed before I decided enough was enough.

Leaving my bike, I stomped up the porch steps and stepped into the cosy bed and breakfast's lobby. Instantly, the air condition hit me, causing goose bumps to rise on the back of my neck. Behind the counter, Mrs Clemente smiled gently, as if expecting me.

"Isla, dear," she said, sending me that heat warming smile of hers that always managed to calm me down. "I was wondering what time you'd be here."

"Mrs Clemente," I said in way of greeting. "Where's Everett? He's late."

"Oh." She frowned, tutting slightly. "He's not coming today. He won't leave his room."

I blinked. I hadn't expected that. Mrs Clemente avoided my eyes, her lips set into a deep frown at the corners. She lifted a hand to her forehead and let out a tired breath, shaking her head.

"Why not?" I asked, furrowing my brow.

She hesitated for a moment before saying, "I'm not sure if it's my place to tell."

I nodded slowly, processing her words. Right. What was I thinking? I wasn't exactly friends with Everett – more of a glorified tour guide. I stepped back, sending her a tight smile. "Alright. Give him my best. See you."

She nodded, quickly turning and stepping out from the counter to enter the kitchen. With a sigh, I spun to the door.

Everett wasn't leaving his room.

I glanced at the rickety wooden staircase that lead to the guest rooms.

No. Don't be stupid. I had to go to work, and we were barely friends. He didn't tell me about this for a reason. I'd probably see him tomorrow, and things would go back to normal.

Back to toeing the line between asking questions and his walls flying up again.

I took another step towards the door, my legs heavy like led. Glancing towards the kitchen to be sure Mrs Clemente had left, I made my decision. I turned to the staircase, taking two steps at a time to reach the second floor.

I grew up in this inn. My mother worked here part time for a while and Mrs Clemente, always the sweet old lady with a heart of gold, took it upon herself to babysit me while she ran the place. I knew my way around.

Room 137 was at the very end of the maze of hallways. Even when they were fully booked for the summer, that roomed stayed open. Just in case, Mrs Clemente would say. I never knew what for, but now I was pretty sure I did.