The First Last Day by Dorian Cirrone Page A

magician. He had his hands right near your backpack when he pulled that scarf out.”
    â€œI thought you didn’t believe in magic?”
    â€œI don’t. It had to be a trick. You know, sleight of hand.”
    Kevin pressed play again. “Look. I got a shot of him covering one hand with the other when he pulled out the scarf. That’s how he does it. He gets you looking at one hand while he does something else with the other one.”
    â€œWhy would Marty do a trick like that and not follow up on it? Wouldn’t he have shown everyone how he put the box in there without anyone seeing it? It would be his moment of glory, right?”
    Kevin paced across the porch. “I don’t know. Maybe he got distracted by a customer—and we left the store.” Kevin drew two green stars next to Marty’s name. “Hemight be the most likely suspect so far. He had the opportunity to do it and he had a motive.”
    â€œI guess so, but I’m still going with my writer theory. Draw two stars next to him.”
    â€œAll right. But we still need to finish with the list. What did we do next?”
    â€œYou went to tell your mom that we were going to play mini golf.”
    â€œThat’s right. And when I came back, your backpack was unzipped. That proves it was Marty.”
    â€œAre you sure? He’s good with the cards and the scarves, but I can’t believe he could hide a whole box of paints. And . . . wait a minute!” I narrowed my eyes at Kevin. “You came up from behind me and said my backpack was open. You could have put the paints in there!”
    Kevin flinched as if I’d slapped him. “Why would I do that? And where would I have gotten the paints?”
    â€œI don’t know. Maybe your mom found them at home when she was cleaning out your stuff.”
    â€œWhy wouldn’t I tell you that I was giving them to you?”
    â€œTo surprise me?”
    â€œWith a set of old, used paints?”
    I rocked back and forth at rapid speed. “I guess not.”
    â€œBesides,” Kevin said, “I already know what I’m getting you for Christmas, and it isn’t used.”
    Christmas? Had Kevin already been planning that far ahead? Why had I been so worried we wouldn’t see each other after summer? It was like I’d been preparing for something before it even happened.
    Mom once told me about this thing called the self-fulfilling prophecy, how sometimes if you think the worst is going to happen, it will—because you end up making it happen. Had I always drifted apart from my friends because I expected to? Was I the one who was really pulling away because I was afraid they’d do it first? Had I even done it with Abbey?
    At that moment, I wanted more than ever for time to move forward. I had to find out who gave me the yellow box. I looked at Kevin’s hurt face. “I know it wasn’t you . . . maybe it was someone at mini golf.”
    â€œBut you had the backpack with you the whole time.”
    â€œNo! No, I didn’t. You don’t remember, but on that first day, the rickshaw driver swerved and knocked you down. I didn’t get there in time to pull you out of the way, like I did today. He took me by surprise the first time, and when I ran to help you, I left my backpack on a bench at the last hole.”
    â€œIt’s weird I can’t remember that,” Kevin said. “Did I get hurt?”
    â€œYou skinned your knee.”
    â€œWhy were you able to pull me away in time? But we can’t save G-Mags?”
    â€œI wondered that for a long time, but . . .” I looked away and rocked faster in the chair. “I think some things are just meant to be.”
    Kevin was quiet for a while, and I wasn’t sure what to say. Finally, he looked up and drew a green star next to mini golf. Then he added, “We can cross out Number Ten. There was no one at dinner but all of