What I didn’t expect was to see my favorite of them all waiting for us on the front porch of the main building.

“Amy!” Malcolm cried, sliding off the steps and coming to meet me, arms outstretched. “I heard you took a dip on the way over.”

I hugged my big sib hard. “What are you doing here!” He hadn’t dropped any hints at all over e-mail. But maybe keeping this secret was why his communication had dropped off.

“Surprise!” He ruffled my hair. “Had about enough as I could stand of Alaskan winters. And I’d thought Connecticut was bad.” The recent Eli grad had been spending a gap year on a fishing crew before starting business school.

“I still can’t believe you’re here, though,” I said.

“What, thought I’d prefer to take my vacation with my parents?”

I looked down. Malcolm was currently estranged from his father, an ultra-conservative state governor who didn’t take kindly to the news that his only son preferred the company of men. “Still getting the silent treatment?”

“I figure they’ll relent when they reach the age where I’ll sock ’em away in a nursing home if they don’t.”

“Good idea.”

“So tell me about your trip over here.” I couldn’t blame Malcolm for changing the subject. “What happened?”

“You must have already heard a dozen different versions.”

“Yeah, but I want the one out of your mouth.”

What, didn’t he trust his buddy Poe’s interpretation? Speaking of, where was Poe?

The other girls had wandered into the rec room to join the rest of the island’s inhabitants. I caught sight of a television, a bunch of board games, a pool table, and a dart set, but nothing really held my interest until I saw the lone figure on a chair in the corner, in a dark shirt and a pair of khaki shorts, reading. Poe. I stopped short.

“Do you know how to play backgammon?” Malcolm asked, still headed into the rec room. “I think I’ve got time to teach you before din—” He noticed I hadn’t followed him. “Amy?”

“Actually, can I talk to you for a minute?” I beckoned him back outside.

He furrowed his brow. “Sure. What’s up?”

But I didn’t say anything more until we were a safe distance from the crowd, seated on a picnic table bench on the far side of the porch. “I have a question for you, but it’s kind of…um, personal.”

“Yes, I’m gay.”

“You really are a fan of saying that, aren’t you?”

“Once you start, you just can’t stop.”

“Seriously, though, you can’t laugh at me,” I said.

He smiled. “I make no promises.”

“Okay, fine. You can’t make fun of me, then. And if I’m totally off base, you have to forget I ever said anything, and never tell anyone this conversation happened.”

“I swear on Persephone. Now you’ve got me really intrigued.” Malcolm leaned forward, his hands on the bench between us, his expression one of amused anticipation.

I took a deep breath. “Does P—Jamie…like me?”

Malcolm blinked. This was clearly not the kind of dirt he’d been expecting.

“I mean, like me like me,” I clarified quickly.

“What are you, twelve?” he asked, incredulous.

“You aren’t supposed to make fun of me!” I scolded.

“You never said you were going to act like a teenybopper. That’s a special circumstance. Any judge would agree.”

“Fine.” I started to rise. “Like I said, forget I asked.”

“Wait, Amy. Sit down,” he said with a sigh. Malcolm was leaning his fists against the wood, staring down at his knuckles.

I sat. “What?”

He didn’t look up. “This is all just between us, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I wouldn’t say he likes you.”

“Oh.” Oh. Of course not. How stupid of me. How ridiculous, really—

“He’s pretty much in love with you.”

“What?” I whispered.

“Amy, don’t…” Malcolm’s face had gone red. “He’d kill me if he knew I just told you that.”

I jumped up. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because you hate him, remember?” Malcolm grabbed my arm and pulled me back on to the bench, dropping his voice to a low growl. “Remember how you hate him? Remember how I had to send you about twelve thousand e-mails last semester before you agreed to even talk to him?”

“I don’t…hate him,” I stammered.

“Since when?”

Since last semester, actually, when I’d finally talked to him, but that was hardly the point. “I don’t understand. How can he—” No way was I using the L-word. “—feel that way about me? We had a very strong mutual dislike, remember?”

“Yes,” Malcolm said snidely. “I remember. I heard it nonstop from both of you.”

“So what makes you think…”

“We’re brothers; we don’t do secrets. And something about the manner in which he conducted his nonstop complaining about you,” Malcolm said, “tipped me off.” Now my big sib leaned back on the bench. “You aren’t the only one here who acts like a twelve-year-old when you’ve got a crush on someone.”

“I don’t have a crush on him.”

“I know.” Malcolm leaned forward. “And that’s why this conversation has to end now. Amy, please please please don’t let him know about this. Don’t let him know you know. You may not like him very much, but he’s a good friend of mine, and if you lord it over him, I may have to find a new little sib.”

“I won’t,” I promised. “But you have it all wrong. We actually get on really well now.”

“You’re only saying that because he saved your life this afternoon.”

“No! Well, maybe a little bit. But that’s not all. We talk. We hang out.” We had gone out for pizza that time.

“That’s not what I hear,” Malcolm said.

“Then you aren’t hearing the whole story. Ask anyone in my club. They even—” They even make fun of me for spending so much time with Poe. But how could I say that to his good friend? And what had Poe been telling him?

And why did I care?

“I don’t think I’m going around to the knights and canvassing for opinions about your relationship, but thanks,” Malcolm said. “Just do me a favor and forget we had this talk, okay? Jamie’s had a tough year where Rose & Grave is concerned. I don’t think he needs any more humiliation.”

“I wouldn’t do anything, Malcolm. What do you take me for?”

“A knight of Rose & Grave. We’re ruthless to our enemies.”

But Poe wasn’t my enemy. He was…God, I don’t know what. This was all very disconcerting.

One thing was certain, I would not be able to talk to him until I figured it out. With any luck, we’d be sitting very far away from each other at dinner. My desire to give him a proper thank you was far outweighed by my need to get a handle on this revelation.

We moved inside. I listened with half an ear as Malcolm taught me the finer points of backgammon, and then I proceeded to really suck at the game, since I spent half my time thinking about the situation and the other half wondering if Poe was looking at us. On the upside, it got my mind off the whole almost-drowning thing.

So while Malcolm was bearing off pips or something, I was remembering Brandon. And not the way you think.

When had I figured out Brandon liked me? Or had I ever not known it? After all, our relationship had been fraught with flirtation since we first met. Such was not the case with Poe. In fact, I don’t think he ever flirted with me. At least, not flirting as I understood the definition. Insults, threats, arguments: sure. If that was his way of trying to spark my interest…

But from what Malcolm had said, I doubted he was trying. And who knew what Malcolm had meant by “in love” anyway? We’re talking about guys here. He was probably just attracted to me, and as unhappy about that prospect as I would be if I found myself attracted to him.

Speaking of…

But no. I wasn’t going to look over there. What if he caught me sneaking a peek? He’d know for sure that I knew.

Still, I didn’t need to look. A few very specific memories came unbidden to my mind. Poe, pulling his shirt off back in his horrendous apartment last fall. Poe, laying that asshole Micah Price flat with one punch. Poe, staring at me in the sliver of light as we lay together in the crawl space at the Dragon’s Head tomb.