Summer of Lost and Found Read Online Free PDF Page B

called Poor Richard’s. When I saw the bookstore up ahead I felt relieved, already anticipating a blast of fresh, cold air-conditioning. The store was in a Ye Olde building, marked by dark brown wood that crisscrossed against white stucco. It had a front porch with a couple of rocking chairs on it, empty except for a sleepy golden retriever. I walked across, a little nervously. I don’t know why; most of the bookstores I’ve been to have always been welcoming places. Still, it felt kind of like the first day of school. I hadn’t talked to a single person on Roanoke yet.
    I sucked in a deep breath and ventured inside. The screen door slammed shut behind me, letting out a clattering smack . Glancing back, I could see the poor dog on the porch startle. Inside, a few people looked up from their books and at me.
    A blond woman leaned over the counter as I slouched away from the entrance. “Hi! Don’t let the screen hit you on your way in !” She grinned, and I blushed. “Can I help you find something?”
    â€œThanks. Um, I’m just looking.” I raced over to the first section of shelves I saw and immediately pulled out a book.
    â€œTake your time!” I was intrigued by her accent—the way she said “hi” and “time” sounded more like “ hoi” and “toime.” She didn’t sound like the Southern people I knew in New York. But the woman seemed nice enough. Maybe I’d wait a few minutes, then ask where to find the series that Jade kept insisting I read, the one about a foodie girl.
    Before I could study the back cover of the book I’d grabbed, I almost tripped over a person next to me in the aisle. “Sorry!”
    â€œNo worries.” A dark-haired girl, about my age, stood up from her browsing crouch next to me. She glanced at the book in my hands. “That book has great research, but it’s kind of boring.” She tipped her head, like she was sizing me up. “What else have you read?”
    Was she suggesting I looked like someone who didn’t read a lot? “I’ve read a lot of books,” I finally said. And it was true. I need to have a book at every meal, and when Mom makes me put it aside to “participate in the family dinner,” I find myself skimming the can of Parmesan cheese or the edge of a newspaper visible on the floor. I bristled at this girl I didn’t know acting like I might be the type of person who doesn’t read. I mean, my dad’s a writer! So what if his past couple of mysteries didn’t sell. I turned back to the shelf, my face flushing.
    She tapped my shoulder. “Sure, but have you read a lot about Roanoke ?” Her scrunched eyebrows suggested she already knew the answer.
    Oh. I looked down at the title I’d pulled: Roanoke: The Search for the Truth. I put the book back on the shelf and crossed my arms in front of my chest, hugging my elbows slightly. “I read a couple of travel guides.”
    She smiled at me like I smile at Mrs. Kim’s tiny dog when it can’t climb back up the steep hallway steps it jumped down. “Not the island, silly. The lost colony!” I shook my head, wishing that at some point I’d read beyond that sidebar. “Hoo boy. Where were you during history class?”
    The way she was acting, like me not knowing all about this lost colony was the most unbelievable thing ever , was annoying. Maybe people in the city have better things to obsess over than long-gone colonies. “We were busy learning about Henry Hudson.” I bet she didn’t know a lot about him, seeing as he was important to New York’s history.
    â€œRight, the sea explorer. His story had a sad ending too. But not a mystery.” Even though she was being kind of annoying, I was impressed. The girl grabbed my hand and led me to the door. “This is a story best told out in the heat, otherwise you’ll get goose bumps times a