Book Description
Gwen Castle's Biggest Mistake Ever, Cassidy Somers, is slumming it as a yard boy on her idyllic Nantucket-esque island this summer. He's a rich kid from across the bridge in Stony Bay, and she hails from a family of fishermen and housecleaners who keep the island's summer people happy. Gwen worries a life of cleaning houses will be her fate too, but just when it looks like she'll never escape her past--or the island--Gwen's dad gives her some shocking advice. Sparks fly and secret histories unspool as Gwen spends a gorgeous, restless summer struggling to resolve what she thought was true--about the place she lives, the people she loves, and even herself--with what really is.
Excerpt
Chapter One of What I Thought Was True
Nothing like a carful of boys to completely change my mood.
There's a muffled expletive from inside Castle's Ice Cream, so I know Dad's spotted them too. A gang of high school boys tops his list of Least Favorite Customers—they eat a ton, they want it now, and they never tip. Or so he claims.
At first, I barely pay attention. I'm carrying a tray of wobbly root beer floats, foil-wrapped burgers, and a greasy Everest's worth of fried scallops toward table four out front. In a few weeks, I'll be in the rhythm of work. Balancing all this and more will be no big deal. But school got out three days ago, Castle's reopened last weekend, the sun is dazzling, the early summer air is sticky with salt, and I have only a few more minutes left in my shift. My mind is already at the beach. So I don't look up to see who just drove in until I hear a couple of whistles. And my name.
I glance back. A convertible is parked, slanted, taking up two spaces. Sure enough, Spence Channing, who was driving, shakes his hair from his eyes and grins at me. Trevor Sharpe and Jimmy Pieretti are piling out, laughing. I whip off my Castle's hat, with its spiky gold crown, and push it into the pocket of my apron.
"Got any specials for us, Gwen?" Spence calls.
"Take a number," I call back. There's a predictable chorus of ooo's from some of the boys. I set the tray down at table four, add soda cans and napkins from my front pockets, give them a speedy, practiced smile, then stop by the table where my brother is waiting for me, dreamily dragging French fries through ketchup.
But then I hear, "Hey, Cass, look who's here! Ready to serve." And the last boy in the car, who had been concealed behind Jimmy's wide torso, climbs out.
His eyes snag on mine.
The seconds unwind, thin and taut as a fishing line cast far, far, far out.
Then I stand up, grab my brother's hand. "Let's get home, Em."
Emory pulls away. "Not done," he says firmly. "Not done." I can see his leg muscles tighten into his "I am a rock, I am an island" stance. His hands flick back and forth, wiping my urgency away.
This is my cue to take a breath, step back. Hurrying Em, pushing him, tends to end in disaster. Instead, I'm grabbing his ketchup-wilted paper plate, untying my apron, calling to Dad, "Gotta get home, can we do this take-out?"
"Not done," Emory repeats, yanking his hand from mine. "Gwennie, no."
"Gettin' slammed," Dad calls out the service window, over the sizzle of the grill. "Wrap it yourself, pal." He tosses a few pieces of foil through the window, adding several packets of ketchup, Emory's favorite.
"Still eating." Emory sits firmly back down at the picnic table.
"We'll watch a movie," I tell him, wrapping his food. "Ice cream."
Dad glances sharply out the take-out window. He may be brusque with Em from time to time, but he doesn't like it when I am.
"Ice cream here." My brother points at the large painting of a double-decker cone adorning one of the fake turrets. Yes, Castle's is built to look like a castle.
I pull him to the truck anyway and don't look back, not even when I hear a voice call, "Hey, Gwen. Have a sec?"
I turn the key in Mom's battered Bronco, pressing the gas. The engine revs deafeningly. But not loud enough to drown out another voice, laughing, "She has lots of secs! As we know."
Dad, thank God, has ducked away from the service window and is bent over the grill. Maybe he didn't hear any of that.
I gun the car again; jerk forward, only to find the wheels spinning, caught in the deeper sand of the parking lot. At last the truck lurches, kicks into a fast reverse. I squeal out onto the blazing blacktop of Ocean Street, grateful the road is empty.
Two miles down, I pull over on the side, fold my arms to the top of the steering wheel, rest my forehead on them, take deep breaths. Emory ducks his head to peep at me, brown eyes searching, then resignedly opens the foil and continues eating his limp, ketchup-soggy fries.
In another year, I'll graduate. I can go someplace else. I can leave those boys—this whole past year—far behind in the rearview mirror.
I pull in another deep breath.
We're close to the water now, and the breeze spills over me soft and briny, secure and familiar. This is why everyone comes here. For the air, for the beaches, for the peace.
Somehow I've wedged the car right in front of the big white-and-green painted sign that marks the official separation between town and island, where the bridge from Stony Bay stops and Seashell Island begins. The sign's been here as long as I can remember and the paint has flaked off its loopy cursive writing in most places, but the promises are grooved deep.
Heaven by the water.
Best-kept little secret in New England.
Tiny hidden jewel cradled by the rocky Connecticut coast.
Seashell Island, where I've lived all my life, is called all those things and more.
And all I want to do is leave it behind.
Reading Grove Review
This is a story about letting go of what you thought you knew and accepting what is actually true. Gwen has grown up working the summers for her father and living with her mom, cousin Nic, and brother Emery. This summer she has decided to take a job as caretaker to Mrs. Ellington opposed to working at her father’s restaurant. The only problem with working for Mrs. Ellington is that she always sees the new yard boy Cassidy.
Gwen and Cassidy have a past together that is filled with hurt and misunderstanding. Neither of them knows how to be honest with each other and let go of what had happened in the past. Gwen holds a grudge better than Cass can, and let me tell you he is extremely patient with her when they try to work things out.
Both Gwen and Cass have their own problems to work out. Gwen doesn’t want to be stuck cleaning houses like her mother or working at her father’s restaurant for the rest of her life. Cass is pegged as troubled because he was kicked out of his old school with his friend and his family thinks he needs to get his life together.
There are a lot of side stories in the book as well. There is Mrs. Ellington and her son, as well as Gwen’s cousin Nic and best friend Viv dating and their problems.
My favorite moments in the book are when Cass is teaching Gwen’s brother Emery to swim. Emery isn’t all there and the moments are really touching. Cass takes his time making Emery feel comfortable and uses things he really loves, like Matchbox cars and Superman, to get him into the water.
In the end it comes down to telling the truth to each other and trusting in the people you are supposed to love. You’re not supposed to put up walls and barriers that make it harder for a person to be with you. Also, you need to realize that things can change and what you believe the story to be may not have been the whole story.
Overall it was a good book and I enjoyed reading it. I’m looking forward to more books by Huntley Fitzpatrick.
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