The First Last Day by Dorian Cirrone

we were here making cannolis.” He drew red lines through Six and Seven. “Number Eight,” Kevin said, suddenly getting a strange look on his face. “Could your parents have put them in your backpack when you went home?”
    â€œWhy would they do that?”
    â€œTo surprise you?”
    I shook my head. “No way. Especially with Mom’s germ phobia. If she found a box this old, she would have thrown it away and washed her hands with alcohol ten times.”
    â€œWhat about your dad?”
    â€œSame thing.”
    â€œYou’re sure? I mean, they haven’t told you yet about the baby. They’re keeping one secret. Maybe they have another one.”
    â€œI get why they kept it a secret about Mom’s pregnancy—she’s been trying for years to have another baby. They probably didn’t want me to get too exciteduntil they knew for sure everything was okay.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” Kevin said. “I didn’t mean they were hiding things from you on purpose. I just thought maybe they wanted to distract you with the paints . . . you know, until they thought it was the right time to tell you.”
    â€œYou could be right.”
    â€œSo what should we do? Cross out or green star?”
    I took a deep breath and whispered, “Green star.”
    â€œOkay. Moving on. We’re up to Number Nine: Atlantic City. We can cross out A and C . There was no one near us when we were watching the gamblers or shopping for souvenirs.” Kevin’s eyes grew wide. “But what about that sketchy guy sitting behind you at the Mexican restaurant?”
    â€œI guess it could be him.”
    â€œHe was really strange,” Kevin said. “And he was wearing a suit. Who wears a suit on the shore in summer? But . . .”
    â€œBut what?”
    He played back some film from the restaurant. “Look. Dracula never went near your backpack.”
    â€œWait a minute.” My heart raced. “Yes! Yes, he did!”

CHAPTER 31
    W hat?” Kevin said. “Watch the film—he wasn’t near your backpack at all.”
    â€œNot today. But you don’t remember that very first day when you blew the straw paper across the table. I missed, and it hit the man on the neck. After a while, he leaned down like he was looking for whatever hit him. He could have shoved the box in my backpack when he was bending over.”
    â€œHmm. Another strong suspect,” Kevin said. “What would his motive be?”
    I thought for a minute. “If he’s a writer, like we thought, he could have done it for a story.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œMaybe he didn’t know the paints were magic, but he put them in my backpack to see what I’d do with them. Remember, we kept seeing him at the hotel. He could have been watching us to find out what we’d do when I found the paints.”
    â€œThen what?”
    â€œHe’d have the beginning of a new novel—depending on what we did with them.”
    â€œBut you didn’t find them till you got home. Wouldn’t he have tried to get you to open your backpack before we left the hotel?”
    â€œI guess.” My head was spinning with all these theories. “The paints are so old. He could have gotten a good deal on a bunch of them and put the boxes in a lot of kids’ backpacks. Maybe some other kid found them first and the guy got his story idea without me.”
    â€œThat is one weird hypothesis,” Kevin said. “Maybe you should be a writer.”
    â€œI’m an artist. Not a writer. But if my theory is true, I am a little sad I didn’t get to be in his book. I feel kindof sorry for him. He probably had no idea he was missing out on a story about magic.”
    All of a sudden, Kevin jumped out of the rocking chair and yelled, “Magic! Why didn’t I think of this sooner!”
    â€œThink of what?”
    â€œMarty the