Read Online Silver is for Secrets by Laurie Faria Stolarz - Free Book Online Page A

“Maybe I need some air.”
    “Stacey—wait.”
    I go to get up and a trickle of blood rolls down my lip.
    Jacob grabs a wad of tissues and applies it to my nose.
    “Thanks,” I say, pul ing back a bit.
    “Don‟t be mad at me. I‟m doing this for us.”
    For us? Is he serious? The idea that he expects me to believe that only infuriates me more. “Keeping secrets doesn‟t bring people together; it only pul s them apart.”
    “Is that real y how you feel?”
    I look at him, into his grayish-blue eyes, the color of steel—and yet they look like they could break at any second. “How do you feel?”
    “I love you,” he says.
    I nod and look away, swallowing down the moment of awkwardness.
    “Say something.” He takes my hand, forcing me to look at him.
    My chin shakes. Part of me wants to yell at him for keeping secrets from me. The other part wants to tel him how much I care. I slip into Amber‟s pair of frog slippers and press the wad of tissues firmly over my nose. “I‟m gonna get a glass of water.”
    “That‟s it?” His voice rises.
    But I don‟t know what else to say, and I don‟t want him to see me get teary over this. I stumble my way out the door and into the hallway, maneuvering the corners of the tissue to blot my eyes so I can see. But I almost can‟t believe what I‟m seeing.
    It‟s Clara. She‟s sitting on the living room sofa with PJ. He‟s consoling her—
     
    wiping her red and weepy eyes, cuddling her with an arm, and bringing a freezerchilled glass of lemonade up to her lips.
    “Stacey,” she says, almost surprised to see me.
    PJ lets out a sigh as though my sudden presence has infringed upon his attempts at seduction.
    “Are you al right?” I ask her.
    She shakes her head and wipes her runny eyes. “We real y need to talk.” twelve
    I ask Clara if she wants to take a walk somewhere so we can be alone to chat, but she declines. “Let‟s just talk here,” she says. “I don‟t have anything to hide.” She peers over at PJ, still sitting on the sofa, which perks him right up from slouch mode.
    “What‟s going on?” Jacob emerges from my room, his hair al disheveled from our nap, his eyes a bit red.
    “You remember Clara,” I say.
    He nods, taking a moment to glance at her, but then he focuses back on me, probably feeling as much as I do that we have some unfinished business to attend to.
    But first I have some business with Clara.
    While Jacob goes off to his room, Clara and I take a seat at the kitchen table.
    “So,” Clara begins, her lips al grimaced. “Something‟s going on.” PJ joins us at the table, his posture completely turned toward Clara like he‟s genuinely concerned, even though I know he‟s just trying to score himself a date.
    He plucks at his hair spikes, checking for proper alignment, maybe, and props his elbow on the table to listen.
    “Someone was in my room,” she says, her hands al fluttery from nerves.
    “What do you mean?”
    “I mean, after our conversation at the Clam Stripper, I went back to my cottage, went into my room to change, and noticed it right away.”
    “Noticed what?” PJ leans in farther, practical y sitting in her lap now.
    “My stuff was moved around.”
    “What stuff?” I ask.
    “Random stuff—like my diary. I usually keep it under my bed, but instead it was just lying there on my corner chair. And my bathrobe. Normally I just drape it at the foot of my bed, you know, so I can just grab it easily, but someone hung it on the door hook.”
    PJ‟s shaking his head emphatical y, like this is the worst turn of events he‟s ever heard, but all I can think is how it sounds pretty typical. How if it wasn‟t for my kicking skills, maneuvering through the gobs of laundry Amber, Drea, and I manage to deposit on the floor of our room, I probably wouldn‟t be able to find a thing.
    “Is that it?” I ask, sensing the bitchiness of my words. “I mean, was anything else moved?”
    “Oh yeah,” she says. “My