The Scorpio Races

by Maggie Stiefvater

Why did I mention this to Brian Carroll when I haven’t even really discussed it with Finn? The most detailed conversation I’ve had with Brian Carroll in my life involved spitting on his yet-to-be-dug grave and now I’m turning my pockets inside out on family secrets.

Finn’s smile disappears. One of the lines in Finn’s code is that you’re not to say anything about Finn being attractive to the opposite sex. I’m not sure which exact statute governs this, but it’s closely related to the one that won’t let you thank him. Something about compliments and Finn don’t work.

say, and it comes out a snarl, a call to battle, no more friendly than one of Corr’s screams across the sand.

I stand as straight as I can. I will be as fierce as Peg Gratton, even if I don’t have her great bird headdress to hide under. I have my name, and that’s always been good enough.

“There are rules on paper and rules too big for paper.”

“It’s personal to me.” Now they’re annoyed. They thought I would just come down at the first whisper of the word no, and now that I haven’t, I’m less of a story for later and more of a fight for now.

“I believe in the same thing they believe in,” I say, with a jerk of my chin toward town and St. Columba’s. “I just don’t believe you can find it in a building.”

“Tell me that again,” I say, “two weeks from now when you’ve seen the dead bodies on the beach.” Holly doesn’t open his eyes. “Let no one say that Sean Kendrick isn’t an optimist.”

Does anyone ask you why you stay, Sean Kendrick?” “They do.” “And why do you?” “The sky and the sand and the sea and Corr.”

Finn and I exchange a glance. I wonder if he’s thinking what I’m thinking: that Gabe can’t just pretend that there’s no bad feeling, that he hasn’t been gone, that things will just go back the way they were. I thought, before, that a word from him would be enough, but now I know that I want him to court my good graces. If I can’t have a groveling apology, I don’t want anything at all.

“Have you changed your mind yet?” Malvern asks me. “No.” Malvern’s tone is dismissive. “I haven’t, either. This changes nothing.” I’m not sure I believe him.

Corr can hold a thousand things in his heart and reveal only one of them on his face, like he did earlier today. He is so very like me.

think that’s the mercy of this island, actually, that it won’t give us our terrible memories for long, but lets us keep the good ones for as long as we want them.

“I will not be your weakness, Sean Kendrick.” Now he looks at me. He says, very softly, “It’s late for that, Puck.”

He is slow, and the sea sings to us both, but he returns to me.