We start at the Pancake House with all-you-can-eat dollar-size pancakes and orange juice. Malcolm tries the coffee, just to be polite. When his face puckers in its aftermath, I shoot him a told-you-so look.
“Oh, that’s terrible,” he says under his breath. “That’s really, really terrible.”
I laugh.
In a far corner, Gregory B. Gone is sitting ensconced in a booth. He’s spread all manner of papers and books on the table, and Belinda’s been pouring him a never-ending cup of coffee. He’s so engrossed that I don’t think he notices the taste.
“Looks like he got the gig,” Malcolm says.
“Gig?”
“Full-time at Springside High, Honors English and drama club advisor.”
“So, he’s staying ... and Terese is...?” I trail off. I’ve missed so much in the last six weeks.
“They went off on a long weekend
