BeginReading
TableofContents
AbouttheAuthor
CopyrightPage
Thankyouforbuyingthis
St.Martin’sPressebook.
Toreceivespecialoffers,bonuscontent,
andinfoonnewreleasesandothergreatreads,
signupforournewsletters.
Orvisitusonlineat
us.macmillan.com/newslettersignup
Foremailupdatesontheauthor,clickhere
Theauthorandpublisherhaveprovidedthise-booktoyouforyourpersonaluseonly.Youmaynotmakethise-bookpubliclyavailableinanyway.Copyrightinfringementisagainstthelaw.Ifyoubelievethecopyofthise-bookyouarereadinginfringesontheauthor’scopyright,pleasenotifythepublisherat:us.macmillanusa.com/piracy
ForDaddyandtheRachelK
PROLOGUE
Saltwaterandbloodtastethesame.
She’dneverthoughtofthatuntilnow,untilshewasdrowninginboth,bloodgushingfromthewoundinhertemple,thesearushingintohermouth.
Botharewarm,tangy.
Boththreatentoconsumeher.
It’sdark,butshecanhearthewaveslappingagainstthesideoftheboat,hearthefranticarguingsomewhereaboveher.Momentsago,thatargumentmatteredtoher,butnowsheonlycaresaboutthepaininherhead,thestingingofthesalt,theachedeepinherchest.
Inaway,it’seasiertoletgo.Toletithappen.
Isn’tthatwhatshe’sbeendoingthiswholetime?Isn’tthatwhatledherhere,tothislonelyspotinthePacificOcean,woozyanddrowningandalone?
Shebreathesdeeply.
Ithurts,waterrushinginwherethereshouldbeair.
Butafterthepain,there’sakindofpeace.It’sovernow.Allofit.
Sheslipsunder.
Shedoesn’tcomebackup.
UpuntilWorldWarII,MeroeIslandwasbestknownfortheshipwreckthatgaveititsname.ThesailorsoftheHMSMeroeweremaroonedontheislandformorethanfivemonths,andthehandfulofsurvivorswereeventuallytriedinEnglandforthemurderoftheirshipmates.Darkrumorsofcannibalismsurroundedthetrial,thedetailsofwhichwereconsideredtoogruesometoevenbementionedinnewspapers.Onlyoneoftheeightsurvivors,aLieutenantThornton,wasconvicted.Hishangingdrewacrowdofthousands,includingsuchluminariesofthedayasLordByronandJ.M.W.Turner.MeroeIslandbecameasortofgrimfootnoteintheannalsofnauticalhistoryuntilthe1940swhenitsstrategiclocationmadeitusefultoAlliedforcesinthePacific.Sincethen,ithasbeenmoreorlessabandoned,althoughinrecentyears,it’sbecomeapopulardestinationforamoreadventurousbrandoftraveler.—HiddenHistories,Traveler’sPress,2010NOW
ONE
SometimesIwonderifpeopleonvacationthinkthey’reactuallyonanotherplanet.
Ormaybejustanotherdimension?
It’stheonlyexplanationIhavefortheshitthatI’veseeninthesixmonthsthatI’veworkedattheHaleakalaResortinMaui.AndI’mnotjusttalkingabouttheweirdstuffyou’dexpect—sunburnedcouplesaskingifI’minterestedin“joiningthemlaterthatevening,”thegroupsofwomenwhowearcoordinatedtanktopsemblazonedwiththephraseGO-GETTERS!whiletheyspendseveralthousanddollarsontequilashotsandeventuallygetintoaweepyargumentatthelobbybar,orthedoucheyWallStreetbroswholeavelinesofcokeonthebathroomcounter,thenaccusethemaidwhoservicedtheroomofsnortingthem.
ThosewereallmessesIendedupcleaningup—onewayoranother—butI’mtalkingaboutthetrulyunhingedmoments,liketheguywhoofferedme$200ifI’deatawholepineappleinfrontofhim(Ididn’t),ortheseniorcitizenwhospenttheentiretyofherweeklongvacationinhersuiteorderingadultmoviesofftheTVandendlessfrenchfriesfromroomservice(honestly,goodforher).TherewasalsothetimeIwenttocleanaroomwheresomefratguyshadstayed,andfoundconcentriccirclesofurinealloverthecarpet(someone’sdadwhippedoutanAmextopayforthereplacementafterIprovidedmanagementwithphotographicevidenceofthedamage).
Whichbringsmetotoday,asIstandinthemiddleoftheMakaiSuite,lookingatthearrayofsextoyslaidoutonthebed,consideringwherethisparticularmomentfallsonthespectrumofdisgusting,disturbing,andderanged.
“Thisissofuckedup,”Maiamuttersnexttome,herarmsstillfullofdamptowels.“It’slikeStonehenge,butwithdildos.”
Isnort,alreadypullingonapairofgloves.“Tobefair,Ionlyseetwo—okay,no,three—dildos.Thatone”––Ipointtothehot-pinkdiscontheright—“isavibrator,andthatpurplethingis…yeah,Idon’tknowwhatthatis,butanyway,goodforthesepeople,they’reclearlyhavingalovelytimehereontheisland.”
Maiashakesherhead,movingbacktowardthelaundrycart.She’sshorterthanme,andtheskirtofheruniformhangsdownpastherknees.Itshouldmakeherlookdowdyorfrumpy,butMaiaisincapableofthat.ShelookslikeahotactressonsomeCWshowwhoismerelydeigningtoplayamaid.
“I’mnotagainstanyonehavingagoodtime,Lux.Ijustsometimesthinktheyforgetthat,like,peoplewillseethisshit.”
“Ortheywantedustoseethisshit,”Icounter,pullingaplasticbagstampedwiththehotel’slogooffmyowncart.“Maybethat’spartoftheirwholedeal.”
“Gross,”shereplieswithashudder,andIpickupthepinkvibrator,droppingitintothebag.
“Prude.”
“Weirdo,”shesaysbeforedisappearingintothebathroom.Igrinather,andturnbacktomytask.
MaiaisnewhereatHaleakala,juststartedlastmonth,andwhileIlikeheralot,Ihaveafeelingshe’llbegonewithinacoupleofweeks.I’vebeenherelongenoughtorealizethatthehousekeepingstafftendstofallintothreecategories:thelifers,ladieswhohavebeenheretenyearsandwillbehereforanotherthirty;the“thisisatemporarything,butI’vebeenhereayear,”crew;andfinally,girlslikeMaiawhothinkworkingatafive-starresortwillbefun,nottoomuchwork,andwillearnthemadecentamountofcash.
Iwassupposedtobeinthethirdgroup,butaftersixmonths,I’mworriedI’mslidingintothesecondone.
I’dcometoHawaiiforaguy—which,Irealize,soundsstupid—butIfeellikeanywomanwho’dhadNicoJohannsenaskhertomeethiminMauiwould’veboughtaplaneticketonthespot.
Andbesides,ithadn’tjustbeentheguyhimself—ithadbeenwhattheguywasoffering.Achancetotravel,tosailaroundtheworld,tofinallyhavesomeexperiences.
Anadventure.
“Livin’thedream,”Imutter,surveyingthebed,unsurehowtoproceed.ShouldIlayallofthetoysoutonatowelonthebathroomcounter,thewaywedomakeupbrushes?
Suddenly,allIwanttodoisleave.Tearoffthisuniform,abandonmycleaningcart,walkoutoftheresort,andgobackhome.
Butwhereevenisthatnow?
Technically,Iliveinatinyranchhouseonthesouthsideoftheisland,aplaceNicoandIsharewithtwodudesheworkswithatthemarina,plustheirgirlfriends.Exceptwedon’tevenhavearoomthere—wesleeponamattresstheyputoutinthelivingroomatnight.Thewholeplaceconstantlysmellslikesaltandsunscreen,andthesheetsalwaysfeelalittledampandgritty.Thesixofussharetwobathrooms,withwetswimsuitsdrippingfromtheshowerrod,andtowelswithlittledotsofmildewbecausenothinginthatplaceeverseemstostaydry.
HomewassupposedtobeNico’sboat,theSusannah.
Eventhinkingaboutithurts,imaginingitinitsdrydock,withabigfuckingholeinthehull.NicohadsailedherdownfromSanDiegoafterwe’dmet,andI’dflowntomeethimhere.One-wayticket,myentirelifepackedintoonerollerbagandabackpack.
ButwhenI’dgottentoWailuku,I’dlearnedthatnotonlyhadtheSusannah’senginebustedonthetripover,butwhenNicohaditmovedtothemarinawhereitcouldbefixed,anaccidentgettingitoffthetrailerhadpiercedthehull,arepairNicodidn’thavethefundsfor.
Correction,Nicowouldn’taskforthefundstorepairit.HisfamilyhasmoremoneythanGod—theyrunthismassivelawfirm,personalinjury,litigation,shitlikethat—butNicowantstomakehisownwayintheworldonhisownterms.
It’sareallyadmirablequality,whenitisn’talsowreckingourplanandkeepingmestuckhere,cleaningupstrangers’sextoys.
Maybetheboatiscursed,I’dsaidtohimjusttheothernight,whisperingagainstthewarm,saltyskinofhisneckaswehuddledonourmattress,rainpatteringonthetinroof.
Maybeit’syou,he’dmurmuredback.Lettingawomanonboardashipwasthoughttobebadluckbackintheday.
Maybeyou’reanasshole,hadbeenmyreply,he’donlylaughedandkissedme,andthenourtiny,sandymattresshadn’tseemedsobad.Nicowasgoodatthat,distractingme,hisunflaggingoptimismbringingmeoutofthosespiralsofworryanddoubtandwhatthefucknow?Nicodidn’tworryaboutthefuture—andifanuncharitablevoiceinthebackofmymindoccasionallyhissedthatNicodidn’thavetoworryaboutthatkindofshitbecauseIwasalwaysdoingitforhim—Iignoredit.
Or,Itriedto.
Anyway,beforetheSusannahandHawaii,I’dbeeninCalifornia,butthathadneverfeltlikehometome,notreally.I’dmovedtherewithmymomfromNebraskawhenIwastwelve,andwhenshe’ddiedelevenyearslater,I’djuststayedinSanDiegobecauseIcouldn’tthinkofwhereelsetogo.
Now,attwenty-five,allofitisstartingtofeellikeaseriesofwrongturnsandmissedchances.HeadingleftwhenIshould’vegoneright.ZiggingwhenIshould’vezagged.
Istripthebedandshovethesheetsinthebottomofmycart.IhearthedoortothesuiteopenasMaiagoesintothehalltogetmoretowelsorshampoothatsmellslikebananasandhibiscus.
“So,doyouthinkIshouldmaketheseassholesafestivetowelsculptureshapedlikeacock?”Icallouttoher.“Iknowaswanisthenormalthing,butgiventheirtastes—”
Behindme,someoneclearstheirthroat,andIstraightentoseetwopeoplestandinginthefoyer,amanwearingaHawaiianshirtinviolentshadesofredandgreen,awomaninamatchingdress.They’reholdingmaitais,theirfacesbrightwithembarrassmentorsunburnorboth,andIofferaweaksmile.
“Aloha?”
Anhourlater,I’mstandingintheparkinglotoftheHaleakala,inmycutoffshortsandT-shirt,myuniformandnametagbackinthehandsofmyboss—well,formerbossnow—Mr.Chen,andwhileIshouldbefreakingthefuckout,Itipmyfaceuptothesunandsmile.
Nomoresheets.Nomoretowels.Nomorestrayfingers“accidentally”brushingmyass.I’vewantedtoquitforoveramonthnow,butthere’ssomethingfreeingabouthavingthechoicetakenoutofmyhands.It’snotmyfaulttheSandersonswalkedinwhentheydid.Notmyfaultthey’dleftallthatstuffontheirbedinthefirstplace.
NotmyfaultthatIdon’thaveajobanymore.
Now,IjusthavetotellNico.
TWO
“Gottasay,losingmyjobbecauseofadildoisafirst.”
SinceI’mofficiallyunemployed,IcanmeetNicoathisfavoritelunchcounterontheisland.Hesitsacrossfromme,smellinglikesaltwaterandenginegrease,butstillsohandsomeIcanfeelitinthepitofmystomach,myknees.He’sgotaredbandanaholdinghissandyhairbackfromhisface,andhisskinistannedandsmooth,atattoocurlingaroundhisbicep.
IfI’mhonest,thetattooismorethanalittledouchey.Typicalwhitedudetribalshitthatdoesn’tactuallymeananythingtohim,butthreedaysafterwemet,headdedacurlingLtooneedgeofthetattooforme.Thatwassweet,atleast.
Hewassweet.
Hestillis,ofcourse,butitwasdifferentwhenIfirstmethim.Whenourrelationshipwasheadyandnew,thecalmheradiatedwasawelcomebalmafteryearsofdealingwithMom’scancer:thehospitals,thechemosideeffects,thescreamingfightswithmydadoverthephone.
Nicoisthekindofguywhocansaysomethinglike,“Don’tpickupwhatyoudon’tneedtocarry,”andyouactuallybelieveit—thathe’sfiguredoutsomebetter,moreenlightenedwayofliving—andyoudon’tevenwanttopunchhim.
Well,youdon’talwayswanttopunchhim.
Nowhejustslurpshissodaandnodsatme.“Jobwasbullshitanyway.”
“Suchbullshit.”
“Andyoucanhaveanotherone,like,tomorrow,”hegoeson,pointingatmewithhiscup.
Istabatanoodleandshrug.“Whydon’twelookathowmuchwe’vesavedup?MaybewecanfinallygettheSusannahfixed?”
Hedoesn’tanswerthat,justrollshisheadfromsidetosideinthisgesturethatI’veseenathousandtimesfromhim.Itbasicallysignalsamixof“eh”and“wecantalklater,”andfrustrationsuddenlyshootsthroughme.
There’snogettingawayfromthefactthatNicoishappyhere.Hesaysthathewantstokeeptravelinglikewe’dplanned,butthemoretimepasses,themoreIcanseehimsettlingin,puttingdownroots.Helikeshisjobatthemarina,andworkingwithboats.Hemakesfriendseverywherebecausehe’sthatkindofguy,soallhiscoworkerslovehim(henceushavingafreeplacetostay).Ifanyonecan“bloomwherethey’replanted,”it’sNico.
I’mnotsureI’veeverbloomedanywhere.SometimesIwonderifIevencan.Maybethat’swhytheideaofneverbeingplantedinthefirstplaceissoappealingtome.
OrmaybeI’mjustsickofcleaningupotherpeople’sshit,sometimesliterally
Ipokeatmyfoodandglancetowardthecounter,wherethelinehasfinallythinned.It’snearlytwo,whichmeansthey’llclosesoon,andNicowillgobacktothemarinawhileI’llgo…backtothehouse,Iguess?Sitonthecouch,waitforNicotocomehome?
That’salmostmoredepressingthancleaninghotelrooms,andIsuddenlyhavethetiniestpangofregretforwhathappenedtoday.MaybeIshould’vereallyapologizedtotheSandersons,groveledeven.BeggedMr.Chenforanotherchance.
ButIcan’tletmyselfgodownthatroad,becauseifIstartregrettingonething,therewillbeathousandotherdecisionstosecond-guess.Quittingschool,thewaythingswentdownwithmydad,thoselostyearsofpartyingwithfriendswhoweren’tactuallymyfriends.TheaimlesswayI’ddriftedthroughlife—untilI’dmetNico.
“Imetacoupleofgirlstoday,”hesays,pullingmefrommythoughts.
Ilookathim,raisingmyeyebrows.“Andyou’retellingmethisbecause…?”
“Well,theywerelookingforaboyfriendwhileonvacation,andIdecidedthatseemedalotmorefunthanfixingboatengines,soitlookslikeI’llhaveanewjobsoon,too.”
Igivehimthefingerandslurpsomemorenoodles.“Seriously,Nico.”
Grinning,hewinksatmebeforepushinghisemptyplateaway.“Seriously,Lux,Imetthesetwogirls.Americans.EastCoasters.”
HesaysthatwithenoughdisdainthatIliftmyeyebrows.“Wecan’tallbegodsofSouthernCalifornia,Nicholas.”
Iexpecthimtolaugh,butIspotalittleirritationinthewrinklethatappearsonthebridgeofhisnose.Idon’tknowifit’sthegentleteasingabouthisbackgroundortheuseofhisrealname,butineithercase,Iwavemyhand,notwantinganargument.“Sorry,goon.”
Heletsitdrop.“Well,theywerelookingtocharteraboatforafewdays,butthedudetheyweresupposedtotalktowasn’tthere,sowegottochattinginstead.Ithinktheymighthireme.”
I’mnotexactlythejealoustype—withaboyfriendwholookslikeNico,youkindoflearnnottobeifyoudon’twanttoloseyourmind—butIstillfeelaweirdflutterofapprehension.“Hireyoutosailaboatforthem?Takethemaroundtheisland?”
Heshrugs,leaningbackinhisseat.Outside,it’sstartedtorain,asoftdrizzlethatIknowwillbeoverinafewminutesandleavetheairthickandsweetsmelling.“Iguess?TheyaskedifIwantedtogetdrinkstonightandtalkitover,andItoldthemI’dbringmygirlfriend.”
“Lookatyou,youloyalmotherfucker,”Itease,andhegrinsatmeagain,reachingacrossthetabletotakemyhandinhis,kissingmyknuckles.
“Moreliketerrifiedyou’dcutmydickoffinmysleepifImettwogirlsatabarwithoutyou.”
“Loyalandsmart.”
Therainpicksup,slappinghardagainsttheroof,andNicoglancesoutsidebeforeturningbacktome.Hehasbeautifuleyes,deepbrown,andtheycrinkleatthecornersashesmiles.
“Ifigureiftheydon’thiremeforthejob,theymightatleastbuyusacoupleofbeers,andit’snotlikeIhaveanythingelsegoingontonight.”
“Same,”Isay,thenlaugh.“Imean,fuck,nowIdon’thaveanythingelsegoingonatanypoint,ever.”
Ihatethatitdoesn’tsoundlikeajoke.
THREE
Thegirlspickedatouristbar,becauseofcoursetheydid.
PineapplePete’sistoocrowded,andIcansmellthatparticularlynoxiousmixofsunscreen,beer,andduty-freeperfumethatalwayshoversoverthesekindsofplaces.Withmyluck,I’llrunintotheHaleakalaguestswhogotmefiredtoday.
Nicohadgonebacktoworkafterlunch,cleaningupandchangingatthemarinaandleavingmetogetreadybackatthehouse.Butsinceourroommateswerealsogoingouttonight,Ihadtofightforshowertimeandaspaceatthemirror,whichmeansI’mrunninglateandmyhairisstillwetinonespotintheback.Idon’tknowwhyIevenmadeanefforttolooknice—NicowilljustbewearingtheextrashortsandT-shirthekeepsinthebaghetakestowork.It’snotlikeIcareaboutimpressingsomerichcollegegirlsonvacation,butIstillfoundmyselfpullingoutmyfavoritedress,theyellowonewiththehalterneckandtinyembroideredbirdsalongthehem,theonethatswirledaroundmykneesandalwaysmadeNico’seyeslingeralittlelongeronthecurveofmyhip,thehollowofmycollarbone.
I’vealwayslovedwhenhelooksatmelikethat.I’veloveditfromthefirstnightImethim,inabarnotthatdifferentfromPineapplePete’sintermsoflowlightingandshittybeer,butawholeworldaway,otherwise.I’dbeenwaitressingataplacenearthebeachinSanDiego,andNicohadwalkedinonenight.He’djustboughttheSusannah,andwasfixingitup,beforesailingtoBaja,thendownthecoastofMexico,offintothePacific,towhoknewwhere.Hawaii,Tahiti,maybeevenasfarasAustralia.
We’llstillgetthere,ItellmyselfasIweavethroughthecrowd,searchingforNico.Thisisjustalittlehiccup,andthenwe’reonourwaylikehepromised.
Iseehimstandingnearthebackatoneofthehightablesthatdoesn’thaveanychairs.Hespotsmeandliftsahand,alreadyholdingabeer,andthetwogirlsstandingacrossfromhimturntolookatme.
They’renotscowling,whichIguessisagoodstart.Infact,theirsmilesseemgenuine,notsugarysweetandfakeasfuck.Theyalsodon’tlooklikemostofthewealthycollegegirlswetendtoseehere.Nofloralprints,noshinylipgloss.Theoneontherighthasdarkhairgatheredupinamessybun,andtheoneontheleft,herhairseveralshadeslighter,iswearingjeansandatanktop,herfacebareofmakeup.
Nicocomesaroundthetableandpullsmeinforakiss,hisbreathwarmandsmellinglikethebeerhewasdrinking.“There’smygirl,”hesays,hishandbrieflyslidingdowntosqueezemyhip.
“Pleasetellmeyou’vealreadyorderedmeadrink,”Ireply,risingupontiptoestonipathislowerlip,andhegrins,nuzzlinghisnoseagainstmine.
“Icangograbyouonenow,”hesays,andIglanceatthegirls,bothofwhomhaveturnedawayfromustotalktoeachother.
“I’llcomewith,”Isay,butNicoshakeshishead,tuggingmeovertothetable.
“Noworries,babe,”hesays,aphraseIhearsooftenInearlymouthitalongwithhim.
Thegirlsatthetablearewatchingme,andNiconodsattheminturn.“Brittany,”hesaystotheonewiththebun,“andAmma,”thegirlinjeans,“thisisLux.Lux,BrittanyandAmma.”Anothergrin,thisoneslightlygoofy.“I’mgonnagrabacouplemorebeers.”
Hedisappearsbackintothecrushofpeople,leavingmestandingthereattheedgeofthetable,lookingatBrittanyandAmma.
Brittanyspeaksfirst.“Lux,”shesays.“LikeTheVirginSuicides.”
I’msurprised—andmorethanalittlepleased.Noonehasevermadethatconnectionwhentheyhearmyname.Usuallytheyjustaskifit’sanickname,orshortforsomething.“Yeah,”Isay.“Mymomreallylovedthatbook.”
“Kindofabummerofacharactertobenamedafter?”Brittanysays,butshe’ssmilingasshetiltsherbottletohermouth.
“Iknow,”Ireply.“WhenIfinallyreadthebookwhenIwasthirteen,Iwaslike,‘Mom,whatthefuck?’”
BrittanyandAmmabothburstoutlaughing,andIsuddenlyrealizehowlongit’sbeensinceI’vetalkedtopeoplewhoweren’tmycoworkersorNico’s.EvenbackinSanDiego,I’dstartedlosingtouchwithmyfriendsassoonasmymomgotsick.
Funnyhowfastthathappened,howeasyitwasforpeopleIsaweverydaytofadeaway,disappear,becomenothingmorethanabunchofInstagramaccountsIstillfollowed.AndIdidn’tblamethem.Mylifehadbecomesadanddepressing,andnooneknewwhattosaytothegirlwhowassuddenlytakingcareofasickparentinsteadofsittingnexttotheminsociology.
AfterMomdied,I’dthoughtaboutreenrolling,buteveryoneI’doncebeenclosetowasalreadyatleasttwosemestersaheadofme.Ithadfelttoomuchlikestartingoveragain,andithadbeeneasiertogetajob,tojustfocusonputtingonefootinfrontoftheother—andmakingrent.
“So,Nicosaysyou’vebeeninHawaiiforalmostayear?”Ammaasks.Upclose,Iseethatshe’snotquiteasprettyasBrittany,butshehasfulllipsandhighcheekbones.Inthedimlightofthebar,hereyesaredarkandhypnotizing.
“Sixmonths,”Isay,thenwonderifNicohadexaggeratedtomakehimselfseemmorefamiliarwiththewatersaroundtheisland.Iquicklyadd,“NicohadbeentoHawaiimanytimesbeforewemovedhere,though,andhe’sdonealotofsailinginthearea.”
Onfamilyvacations,thatis,stayingatthenicestresortsontheislands,placeswhereIwouldn’tevenbeabletogetajobscrubbingtoilets.Idon’tmentionthis.I’massumingthattheyonlyseeNicoasabeachbum,afriendlyguywithagreatsmileandanevenbetterbodywhoworksonboatsanddefinitelyhasnoideawhichforktouseatafancydinner
“Whataboutyou?”Brittanyasks.Asshereachesuptotuckastraylockofhairbehindherear,Inoticeatattooonherwrist.“Wherewereyoubeforethis?”
IntheAfter.
Iwonderwhatthatmeans,ifanything.Maybeit’sjustalyricfromaTaylorSwiftsongIcan’tbringtomind.
“IgrewupinNebraska,”Itellher.“ButmeandmymommovedtoSanDiegowhenIwasakid.That’swhereImetNicolastyear.HetoldmeabouthiswholeplanofsailingaroundtheSouthPacific.Abouthowtherewerehundredsofislandsthatdidn’tevenhavenames,placesthatwerebarelyonmaps.”ThathadbeenthepartI’dlikedthemost,ifIwashonest.Theideaofgoingsomewherealmostcompletelyunknown.
“Andyoufollowedhim?”Ammaasks,cockingherheadtooneside.
Idon’tlikethewayshesaysit,butit’strue.IhitchedontoNico’sdreambecausecomingupwithmyownfeltimpossible,backthen.Dreamswereforpeoplewithmoneyandtime,peoplewhodidn’tfeelhollowedoutfromwatchingtheonlypersonwholovedthemdieinagony.Dreamswereforpeoplewhohadchoices,opportunities.Ididn’tbelieveIhadanyofthosethings.
Butit’snotlikeI’mgoingtoconfessasmuchtoBrittanyandAmma.Instead,Ishrugandsmile.“Imean,you’veseenhim,canyoublameme?”
Brittanylaughsandnods,butAmmaisstillstudyingme.Ifeellikethere’smoreshewantstoask,butthenNicoisback,fourbeersdanglingfromhisfingertips.
“So,”hesays,settingthemdownonthetable.“DidyoutwotellLuxwhatwewerejusttalkingabout?”
“Weweregettingtoknowherfirst,”Brittanysays,givingmealittleconspiratorialwink,likewe’realreadyfriends.
Nicosqueezesinclosetome,grinningashesipshisbeer.“Babe,”hesays,“you’regonnalovethis.”HenodsatBrittany.“Showher.”
Reachingintoherbackpocket,Brittanypullsoutherphone.“AmmaandImetfreshmanyearofcollege,”shebegins,andAmmanods.
“Westernciv.Sofuckingboring.”Brittanysmiles.“Buteversince,we’vebeentalkingabouttakingthisbigtriponcewegraduated.Thisisourlaststop,andwewantedsomethingspecial.SomethingdifferentthanwhateverysororitygirlonvacationinHawaiiputsontheirInstagram.Something…offthebeatenpath.”
Shehandsmeherphone,andIrealizeI’mlookingatamap.Butit’salllightblue,theentirescreenisnothingbutocean.Itactuallytakesmeasecondtospotthetinysand-coloreddotinthemiddleofallthatemptiness.
“It’sanisland,”Ammasaystome.
“Anatoll,”Brittanycorrects.
“Anatollisanisland,”Nicosays,leaningovermyshouldertolookatthemap.“Madeofcoral.They’reallovertheplaceinthispartoftheworld.DuringWorldWarII—”
Iholdupahand.“Nico,Iloveyou,butmentalkingaboutWorldWarIIgivesmehives.”
Brittanylaughsloudly,throwingherheadback,herteethverywhiteintheglowfromtheBudLightsignaboveourtable.“Okay,IknewIlikedyoubecauseofthecoolname,butnowIreallylikeyou.”
Ammasmiles,butIseeherposturestiffenslightly,andhergazeslidesawayforamoment.
“Anyway,Iknowthisplace,”Nicotellsme.“MeroeIsland.NamedafterashipcalledtheHMSMeroethatwaswreckedthereinthe1800s.Thecoralcausedalotofshipstogoagroundinthearea.ButtheMeroewasthefirstbigone,soIguessitgotnamingrights.”
“Didanyonesurvive?”Ammaasks,proppingoneelbowonthetable.
Nicoshrugs.“Thewreck?Yeah,prettymucheveryone.Buttheislandgotthemintheend.Crewofthirty-somedudes,whittleddowntoeightguysbythetimetheywererescued.There’snotmuchlifeouttheretosustainyouforlong.Youcanfish,butthejungleisprettyroughfromwhatIhear.Andthere’snofreshwater.”
“Andyouwanttogotherewhy?”Iask,handingBrittanyherphone.
Sheshovesitbackintoherpocket.“Ireadaboutitacoupleofyearsagoonthistravelblog.Nico’sright,it’shardcoreandeverything,butitwasalso…”Hergazegoesalittledreamy,slightlyunfocused.“Idon’tknow.Itlookedsobeautiful.Andremote.Arealescape,youknow?”
Shelaughsthen,self-conscious.“Plus,itseemscool.Tospendalittletimeoffthegrid.”Shesmilesandrollshereyes.“Iknow,you’reprobablythinkingI’veseenTheBeachonetoomanytimes.”
“No,”Isay,sippingmybeerandgrinning.“IwasthinkingyoureadTheBeachtoomanytimes.Youstrikemeasabook-before-the-moviekindofgirl.”
Sheclinksherbottleagainstmine.“Fuckyeah.”
“Theguywewantedtotakeuswasn’tatthemarina,”Ammaadds.She’speeledthewholelabeloffherbottlenowandistearingitintosmallpieces.“ButNicowas,soBrittanydecideditwasfate.”
“Itisfate,”Brittanyinsists.“ExtremelyexcellentfatethathasbroughtusnotjustNico,butalsoLux.”
Istareather,confused,andthenlookatNico,grinningatmelikeanexcitedkidonChristmasEve.
“Whatdoyoumean?”
Hereyesarebrightassheleansinevencloser.“Comewithus.”
FOUR
“You’renotreallygoingtosayno,areyou?”Nicoasksinthedarkness.
We’reonourmattressinGregandJosh’slivingroom,myheadonNico’sshoulderasItracepatternsonhisbarechest.WehadseveralmorebeerswithBrittanyandAmma,thenthefourofushadfoundanother,betterbar,andI’dhadmorevodkashotsthanIshouldhave.ButBrittanyandAmmahadbeenpaying,andithadbeeneasiertodrinkanddancethangiveaseriousansweraboutheadingoffonthislittleRobinsonCrusoetripoftheirs.
“Idon’tgetit,”hecontinues,puttingahandbehindhishead.“Allyou’vewantedistogetoutonthewater,andnowyou’relike,‘Ineedtothinkaboutit’?”
Ipushmyselfupononeelbow,lookingdownathim.“Iwanttogetonthewaterwithyou,”Itellhim.“Idon’twantsometwo-week-longcruisewithacoupleofcollegegirlslookingforagoodtime.Besides,don’tyouthinkit’sweirdthattheymetmefor,like,threeseconds,thenweresuddenlyinvitingmeontheirvacation?You,sure.Theyneedsomeonewhocandriveaboat.Butme?”Ishakemyhead.
Hefrowns,andIreachdown,smoothingawaythewrinklesabovehisnosewithmythumb.
Iknowwhyhedoesn’tgetit.Imean,he’sright:I’vebeendyingtogetofftheisland,andit’snotlikeIhaveajobholdingmebacknow.Butthere’ssomethingabouttheentirepropositionthatismakingmehesitate,somethingthatIdon’twanttoputintowords.
InsteadIask,“AreyougoingtosayyesevenifIsayno?”
Nicosighs,andItrailmyhanddowntohistattoo,lettingmynailscrapeagainstthatelegantcursiveLwovenintherejustforme.
“Babe,”Nicostarts,andthat’swhenIrealizethatyup,heisabsolutelygoingtosayyesevenifIsayno.
Isitup,draggingthesheetwithmeeventhoughit’shot,myhandfumblingonthefloorforthejointI’drolledearlier.I’dplannedtosmokeitthen,butmyheadhadalreadybeenspinning,andthenNico’shandshadbeenonmywaist,andI’ddroppedit.
Thelighterflares,brieflyilluminatingthenearlyemptylivingroom,andthesmokeIexhalelooksblueinthedimlight.
Isitthere,armsrestingonmyupraisedknees,foralongmomentbeforethesilencebecomestoomuchforNico.
“Ithoughtyoulikedthem,”hefinallysays,pluckingthejointfrommyhandandtakingahitbeforehandingitback.
“Idid,”Ireply,stillnotlookingathim.“Ido.”
“So,come.”
“Anddowhat?”Iask.“Servedrinks?”
Scoffing,heliesback.“Theyweren’tlikethat.”
“Buttheycouldbe,”Isay,imagininghowmuchthatwouldsuck.HowmuchI’dlikedfeelingliketheoldmetonight,jokinganddrinking—theCoolGirlfriend,notthegirlservingbeersortowels.
Iwanttoholdontotheversionofmethat’sjustanothercarefreetwentysomething.ThemeIpretendedtobewhenIfirstmetNico,andlostsightofthemomentIlandedonMauiandourplangotsidetracked.
SometimesitbothersmethatI’mtheonealwaysthinkingaboutourfuture,aboutwhatitwilltakeforustohaveamorecomfortablelifestyle,whileNicoseemsperfectlyhappyfixingboatsandtakingouttheoccasionalcharter.It’slikewegottoHawaiiandbecamedifferentversionsofthepeoplewewereinSanDiego.
Ishakemyhead,wantingtodispelthatthought.It’sbeenforeversinceI’vesmoked,andit’sclearlyfuckingwithmyhead.
“WeshouldfocusonrepairingtheSusannahandheadingout,”Iremindhim.“Havingourownadventureinsteadoftaggingalongonsomeoneelse’s.”
Hetakesthejointback,suckinghard,andIrecognizethestubbornsetofhisjaw.
“Thepayistoogoodtopassup,Lux,”hesays,shakinghishead.“Whatthey’rewillingtopaymeforacoupleofweeksofworkcouldgetusoutofherethedayIcomeback.”
Iblinkathim.“Seriously?”
Niconods.“Seriously.Fiftygrand,Lux.Tosailthemouttosomeatoll,letthemgettheirBlueLagoonon,andcomeback.”
Fuck.
Islidebackunderthesheets,myfootbrushinghisshin.
He’sright—hecan’tpassthatup.Wecan’tpassthatup.Weneedanewengine,andtheholesinthehullrepaired.Plus,wehaven’trestockedanyrationssinceNico’ssailfromCalifornia.Thatmoneywillgoalongway.
It’smoneyhecould’vehadmonthsagowithonephonecalltohisdad,avoiceinmyheadwhispers.
Nico’sneverbeenspecificaboutjusthowrichhisfamilyis,butIlookedthemupnotlongafterwemet—dugaroundthelawfirm’swebsite,someFacebookprofilesofcousins,evenhissister’sInstagram.
They’reFuck-YouMoneyrich.HousesinCalifornia,inVail,inFloridarich.FancyapartmentinNewYorkrich.Andtheyprobablyhavemillionsmoreinthestockmarket.
Nicooncetoldmethathewalkedawayfromhisfamilybecauseofalltheexpectations:thathe’dgotolawschool,andthathe’deventuallybeapartnerinhisdad’sfirm.Hehatedtheideathathewasjust,asheputit,“acoginthemachine.”IguessIcanappreciatethat—there’sevenapartofmethatthinksit’snoble,toresistfallingintoalifethatyourparentshavejustcreatedforyou—buttherearealsotimeswhenit’sfrustratingasfuck.
Thepastfewmonthshavebeenfullofthosetimes.
Andthensomethingelseoccurstome.WhatifNicocomesbackwithallthatcashanddecides,hey,ifhecouldgetafewmorejobslikethat,what’sthepointofeverleavingHawaii?Wherewouldthatleaveme?
“MakethempayfortheSusannahfirst,”Ifinallysay,andhelooksoveratme,surprised.
“What?”
“Addittothecost.Tellthemyou’llgivethemamuchbetter,moreauthenticexperienceonyourownboat,butitneedssomerepairs.Imean,howlongwillittake?”
Nicotiltshisheadback,lookingupattheceiling.“Jesus,acoupleofdaysatmost?Theissuehasalwaysbeenmoney,nottime.Domhasanewenginehe’llsellme,Icandothefiberglassworkmyself…”
Hetrailsoff,thendropsthejointinalittlejellyglassofwaterbythesideofthemattress.“IfwetaketheSusannah,willyoucome?”
WhenIdon’tanswerimmediately,hepullsmecloser,mybreastspressedagainsthischest,hisbreathwarmonmyface.“Iwantyouthere,babe.Theywantyouthere.What’sholdingyouback?”
“Doyouthinkit’sgonnaendinsomeweirdsexthing?”Iask,andhegrins.
“Idefinitelyhopeso.”
WhenIpunchhisshoulder,hejustlaughs,rollingmebeneathhim.
“Youjustwantmetoseeyouinaction,”Ijoke.“Allpirate-yandhot.Makingthemcallyou‘CaptainNic’orsomething.”
“Oooh,sayitagain,”heteases,hiskneenudgingmythighopenasIkisshim,smilingagainsthismouth.
TheSusannahfixed,withenoughmoneyleftovertostockherwell.Onejob,andthenfinally—finally—theadventureI’dsignedonforcouldstart.
Aboutfuckingtime.
BEFORE
“GoldenBoyisback.”
Cam,anotherwaitressattheCove,smilessuggestivelyatLuxastheypassinthenarrowhallwaybythekitchen,boththeirtraysheavywithemptyglasses,ketchup-smearedplates,balled-upnapkins.
AndeventhoughLuxisexhausted,herfeetthrobbingandherhairsmellingdepressinglylikefrenchfries,shefeelsalittlesparkleshootthroughher.
She’sfeltiteverytimeshe’sseenhimthesepasttwoweeks,andsometimesshethinksshelooksforwardtothatsensation—thejoltofawarenessthatremindshershecanstillfeelsomething,besidessadandtired—morethanshedoesactuallyseeingtheguy.
Butnow,asshesneaksapeekaroundthewallatthebar,sheremembersthatno,actuallyseeinghimisprettyfuckinggreat,too.
It’snotjustthathe’shot.Hotguysareadimeadozen,andhisspecificbrandofhot—thatsun-kissedCaliforniaboy,alltanbicepsandwhiteteethandstreakedblondhair—isn’tparticularlynotable,either.Luxwenttocollegewithguyslikethat,seesthemhereintheCovenearlyeverynight.
ButGoldenBoyisdifferent.
Luxdoesn’tknowwhyexactly.Maybeit’sthefactthathe’susuallyalonewhenhecomestothebar,thathe’snotpartofsomeloud,jostlinggroupofguysorderingpitchersofbeerandtippinginloosechange.
Healmostalwayshasanotebookwithhim,too,andasLuxwatcheshimnow,hepullsitoutfromthecanvasbagslungoverthebackofhisseat,tuckinghishairbehindhisearasheopensitup,astubbypencilinonehand,adarkbeerathisleft.
“Heaskedaboutyoutonight,”Camsaysfrombehindher,andLuxturns,frowning.
“Bullshit.”
Camlaughs,shakingherhead.“No,forreal.Okay,hedidn’tsay,‘Hey,where’sLuxMcAllister,myfuturewife,’buthedidaskif‘theredheadedwaitress’wasworkingtonight.”
It’ssilly,probably,tofeelsuchaflushofpleasureatsuchaninnocuouscomment,butLuxblushesthewholewaybacktothekitchen,herpulseleapingaroundcrazilyasshesetshertrayonthecounternearthesinks.
Camisrightbehindher,andnudgesLux’sfootwiththetoeofhersneaker.“Gotalktohiiiiim,”shesings,andLuxisalreadywavingheroff.
“Andsaywhat?”
“Sayyouheardhewaslookingforyou.”
“Yeah,guysloveitwhenyoutalklikeyou’reinaWesternfrom1956.”
Camlaughsagain.“Fine,”shesays.“Tellyouwhat.He’sinmysection.I’llpickuptableeightinyours,andyoucanhavehim.Deal?”
Luxalmosttellsherno,andlater,muchlater,she’llthinkaboutthismomentinthekitchenattheCove,thesmelloffriedfisharoundher,steamrollingovertheindustrialsinks,theclatterofsilverware,thecooksbanteringbackandforthinSpanish.Itdoesn’tfeelimportantthen,doesn’tfeelheavyorloaded.It’sjustthechancetotalktoaboy.
Howcanathingassmallasthatchangeyourentirelife?
“Deal,”shesaystoCam,smilingandreachingoutherhandtoshakeonit.
GOLDENBOYLOOKSUPWHENsheapproacheshistable,andhissmileslicesthrougheverything.
Itseemsstupid,tofeelsohappyjustbecauseacuteguyissmilingather,butLuxhaslearnedtotaketheseunexpectedmomentsofjoywhereshecanfindthem.
“DidmywaitresstellyouIaskedaboutyou?”heasks,duckinghishead,grinningalittlesheepishly.Hiseyesareawarmbrown,hishairlongishandcurlingaroundhisearlobes,anditshouldn’tbesocharming,thishumangoldenretrieverthinghe’sgotgoingon,butitis.
Itreally,reallyis.
“Maybe,”shesayswithalittleshrug,andhewinces,rubbingahandoverthebackofhisneck.
“Great.SotheregoesanychanceofyouthinkingI’mactuallycool,right?”
“Ohyeah,rightoutthewindow.”
Hissmiledeepens,andLuxseesthathehasdimplesbecauseofcoursehedoes.
“Well,shit,”hesayswithasigh.“See,Iwasgonnadothiswholethingofchattingwithyou,askinginterestingbutnotinvasivequestions—”
“Naturally,”Luxreplies,hercheekshurtingwithhowhardshe’stryingnottoburstintoagiddygrin.
“Andthen,”hegoeson,“attheveryendofthemeal,Iwasgoingtoverysmoothlyaskforyournumber.Butsincethat’sblowntofucknow,I’mjustgonnaskiptotheendandtellyouIthinkyou’regorgeous,andI’dreallylovetotakeyououtsometime.”
Lux’sheartisbeatinghard,andherstomachisbasicallyabutterflygardenatthispoint.Still,she’shavingtoomuchfuntogiveinquitesoeasily.“Youdon’tevenknowmyname,”sheremindshim,andhepointsathernametag.
“Idonow.Lux.WhichactuallymakeshowuncoolI’mbeingevenharder,becausegoddamn,thatisaverycoolname.Iknewyouwereoutofmyleague.”
Heleansbackinhischair,andLuxnoticesthewayhisT-shirtstretchesacrosshisbroadchest.
“I’mNico,”hesays,andsheputsahandononehip.
“That’salsoacoolname.”
“It’sanicknameforNicholas.”
Luxscrewsupherface,pretendingtothink.“Youknow,thatdoesloseyousomecoolpoints,butonthewhole,stillagoodname.I’llallowit.”
Helaughsthen,laughslikeakid,throwinghisheadback.“Itakeitback,”hesays.“Don’tgivemeyournumber.Marryme.”
“Letmeseehowwellyoutipfirst.”
Whenwasthelasttimesheflirtedwithaguy?WhenwasthelasttimeshefeltliketheLuxshe’dbeenbefore,theonewhoalwayshadaquiponherlips,thequickestandsharpestofallherfriends?
Years.
Yearsandyears.Butheresheis,doingitsoeasilywiththisguy.
She’lleventuallyworkoutthatthisisNico’ssuperpower,makingpeopleinstantlyfeellikethebest,mostcomfortableversionsofthemselves.Butrightnow,standingbyhistableonaThursdaynight,shedoesn’tknowthat,doesn’tunderstandthatthelightturnedsobrightlyonhershinesoneveryonehemeets.
Gesturingatthenotebookstilllyingopenonthetable,Luxasks,“Whatareyouwriting?”
Thelightissoftinthislittlebackcorner,butshestillseeshimblushalittle,anditmightbethenthatshefallsinlovewithhim.
Heturnsthenotebooktohersothatshecanseethepage.There’salistoffoodthatdoesn’tsoundveryappetizing—sheseesSpamlistedinallcaps—aswellasaseriesofnumbers,acrudelydrawnmap.
“Isail,”heexplains.“Gotatwenty-fivefooterI’vebeenworkingon.PlanningtotakehertoHawaiiassoonasIcan,so.”Hesweepsahandoverthepage.“Logistics,basically.”
Luxdoesn’tknowmuchaboutboatsotherthanthatshelikeslookingatthem.ShemayhavegrownupinCalifornia,butshehasMidwesternroots.HerparentswerebothborninNebraska,andherdadstilllivesthere,withhisnewwife,andhisnewkids.
IthadbeenLux’smom’sideatocometoSanDiegoafterthedivorce,wantingafreshstart,aplacethatwasalltheirs.Andthathadbeengreatuntilshe’dgottensickLux’ssophomoreyearofcollege.Pancreaticcancer,suddenanddevastating,nowhereandtheneverywhere.Hermomhadfoughthard,though.They’dgivenhersixmonths,andshe’dlastedthreeyears,buteveryoneofthoseyearshadbeenastruggle,somuchthatwhenshe’dfinallydied,Luxhadfeltaguiltysurgeofrelief.
It’sovernow,she’dthought.Atleastit’sfinallyover.
Ithadbeen,butithadleftLuxwithastrangethree-yeargapinherlife.Thelasttimethingshadbeennormal,she’dbeentwenty,goingtoUCSD,leadingafairlytypicallife—classes,parties,theoccasionalhookup.
Thenthephonecall.Hermom’svoiceshakyontheotherend.Herwholelifeupendedovernight.
ThethreeyearsbetweenthatphonecallandthenightLuxpackedupherthingsandlefttherentalhouseshecouldn’taffordanymorehadbeenablur,andsheemergedfromthemtofindshehadn’tmanagedtoholdontoeventhesmallestpartofherlifebefore.Friendshadgottentiredofnever-returnedtextsandphonecalls,they’dneverhadanyfamilyinCalifornia,andherdad…well,she’dblownanychanceofthemactuallyhavingarelationshiprightthefuckup.
Luxhasbeensleepwalkingeversince—workingtopaytherentonarun-downapartmentsheshareswiththreeothergirls,andthinkingonlyasfaraheadasthenextweek,sometimesjustthenextday.
ButasshestaresatNico’sdrawings,somethinginherseemstowakeup.
“Howlongwouldthattake?”sheasks,andheshrugs.
“ToHawaii?Threeweeks,couldbealittlelonger,littleshorter.Dependsonalotofthings.”
“You’regoingalone?”
Luxtriestoimaginehowitwouldfeeltobeinthemiddleofallthatwater,allonherown,theonlythingbetweenheranddeathafiberglasshullandherownskills.Itseemsterrifying,butalso…exhilarating?
“Iguessthatdependsonalotofthings,too,”Nicoreplies,smilingupather,andLux’sheartdoesaneatflipinherchest.
Therestoftheeveninggoesbyinahaze.Shehasothertables,butshe’sconstantlyawareofNico,hereyesrepeatedlydrawntohisdimcorneroftherestaurant.Whenhershiftendsandhe’sstillthere,waitingforher,it’slikethesuncomingout.
It’slikeherentirelifeissuddenlystartingoveragain.
NOW
FIVE
“Wait,soyoudon’tactuallylikeboats?”
BrittanyandIareinthecanned-goodsaisleatFoodland,stockinguponsupplies.TherepairsontheSusannaharenearlyfinished,andweleaveassoonaspossible—hencetheshoppingtrip.Ammahaddecidedtostayatthemarina,wrinklinghernoseatthesuggestionofgoingtothestore.
Iwonderifsomethingasmundaneasgroceryshoppingdoesn’tfitintoAmma’sideaofwhatanadventureshouldbe.Igetit,butsinceIalsolikenotstarving,I’mhappytofillthecartwithnon-perishables—likesoup,cannedvegetables,nutsandcrackers,plusplentyofHawaii’sbelovedSpam.Andwater.Nicohasapurificationsystemontheboat,butwe’restilltakinggallons,bigplasticjugsfullthatwillrestintheboat’ssmallhold.It’sathree-daysailtoMeroe,thentheywanttospendtwoweeksontheatoll—Nicohadconvincedthemthatafterbeingatseaforseventy-twohours,they’dwantalittlemoretimeonlandbeforeturningaroundanddoingitalloveragain.
Andthat’sifeverythinggoestoplan—which,asNicohasremindedmeseveraltimes,nothingeverdoes.
So,Igrabmoresoup.
“It’snotthatIdislikeboats,”ItellBrittanynow.“It’sjustthatthey’reNico’sthing.”
Shenods,leaningoverthehandleofthecart.Herhairisloosetoday,sweepinghershouldersasshepeersdownatourhaul.“Okay,sowhatisyourthing?”sheasks,glancingupatme.
ThePAsystemisplayingaMuzakversionof“TheGreatestLoveofAll,”andmyhairlineprickleswithsweatasImakeashowofstudyingthecanssomemore,likeI’msuddenlyreallyinvestedinpickingouttherightbrandofchickpeas.
Themillion-dollarquestion,rightthere.Whatismything?
Thetruthis,whenyourworldisfallingapart,youstophaving“athing.”Yougetsofocusedonjustmakingitthrougheachdaythat“interests”or“ambitions”kindofgooutthewindow.Youdefinitelydon’thavetimeforpassions.GettingtonurturealovelikeNicohasforboatsandtheseaisanindulgenceIhaven’thadtimeforinyears.BeforeMomgotsick,I’dhadallkindsofinterests:IrantrackwhenIwasinhighschool,IplayedguitarwhenIwasalittlekid,andI’vealwayslovedreading—fromtheclassicstheymakeyoureadinschooltothosetrue-crimepaperbackswiththereallyluridcovers.I’ddecidedtomajorinEnglish,butIpickedupaguitaragainincollegeandwasthinkingaboutswitchingtomusiceducationwhenMomcalledtotellmeaboutthatdoctor’sappointment.
Sometimes,IstillthinkaboutthatotherLux,theonewhodidn’tgetherworldupended.Theonewhomightbesittinginsomemusicroomrightnow,surroundedbylittlekids,teachingthemscales.It’saprettypicture,butsomethingaboutitneversitsrightwithme—Ican’tevenimaginebeingthatperson,notreally.
“Travel,”Ifinallysettleonbecausesayingsomethinglike“freedom”istoocheesytobearand“survival”istoohonest,toosad.
“What’syourfavoriteplacethatyou’vebeensofar?”Asshepushesthecartdowntheaisle,onewheelsqueaksloudly.
“Well,Ihaven’tbeenthatmanyplacesyet,”Isaywithashrug,mycheekshot.NowBrittanyisgoingtorealizejusthowpatheticmylifeis,andI’llgofrombeingNico’scoolgirlfriendtosomeloserchicktaggingalongwhileherboyfrienddoesthecoolshit.“Tobehonest,I’vemostlyjustreadalotoftravelguides.”
I’dactuallycollectedthemforawhile,ahobbyI’ddevelopedinmiddleschoolandcarriedonintoadulthood.Mybookshelf—backwhenIstillhadoneofthose—hadbeenfullofthem,theirneatwhitespineslinedup,boldplacenamesinbrightcolors.Australia.Istanbul.Romania.Thailand.
ThatlastonehadbeenagiftfrommymomherlastChristmas.ItwastheonlyoneIstillhad.
Brittanysmiles.“Yeah,thatwasmebefore.”
Iglancebackather,eyebrowsraised.“Beforewhat?”
Sheblinks,thenshakesherheadalittle.“BeforeImetAmma.”
“Youguysmetincollege,right?”
“Mm-hmm,”shesays,lookingoveratoneoftheshelves.“UMass.Introtowesternciv.Hey,whatkindofpastashouldweget?”
Sheholdsuptwoboxes,oneofregularspaghetti,oneofpenne,beforetossingbothintothecartwithashrug.“Guesswemightaswellhaveitall.”Shecontinuespickingupboxesoffarfalle,elbowmacaroni,eveneggnoodles,andpilingthemallinwithourcansofsoupandbeans.
“Youguysmustbereallyclosetodecidetotraveltogether,”Isay,thinkingbacktomyownfriendsfromcollege.Therewasn’tasingleoneofthemIwould’vepickedtotraveltheworldwith.
Brittanynods,butshestillisn’tlookingatme,andI’mgettingtheuneasyfeelingthatshedoesn’treallywanttotalkabouthowsheandAmmabegantheiradventuretogether.Whichisweird,becauseIhaven’tpickeduponanytensionbetweenthem,andJesusfuck,iftheygetinafightwhilewe’reoutontheboat…
Bynow,ourcartismostlyfull,andBrittanysteersustothecheckoutwhileItextNico.
Goteverything.
Awesome,ishisimmediatereply.Prettymuchdonehere,too.Thinkwecanleavethisafternoon.
IT’SNOTEVENNOONBYthetimeBrittanyandIgetbacktothemarina,ourarmsfullofreusablegrocerysacks.TheSusannahfloatsinherberth,smallerthanotherboatsnearby,butshinyandwhite.Hernewlypaintedredtrimischeerful,andmyheartdoesalittleflipinmychest,thesamewayithadwhenI’dfirstseenNico.
He’sstandingatthebow,hishairpulledfromhisfacewithitscustomarybandanaandhissmilebrightashewavesatme.“Howdiditgo?”hecalls,andIgesturebacktowardthecar.
“AlltheSpamwecaneat,”Ipromise,andhisgrinwidensashepressesahandtohisbarechest.
“Womanaftermyownheart.”
“Spam?”
Ammaemergesfromthecabin,andeventhoughit’sstupid,there’ssomethingaboutseeingherthere,inherbikinitopandshorts,herexpensivesunglassestakingupathirdofherface,haircaughtupinamessybun,thatmakessomethingdarkandanimalbrieflyriseupinme.Shelooksgoodstandingthere,shelooksrightnexttoNico,bothofthemexudingacomfortwiththeirsettingandtheirbodiesthatI’veneverfelt.ThatIcertainlydon’tfeelnowinmycargopantsandTevas,withawhitebutton-downthrownovermytanktopasextraprotectionfromthesun.
“Can’tbeasnobaboutSpamwhenyou’reatsea,”Nicosays,oblivioustomydarkthoughtsashemakeshiswayovertothedock,onehandonthelineashecasuallyvaultshimselfofftheship.Hisboatshoesmakeathumpontheplanks,andwhenhecomesovertome,hesmellslikesweatandsalt,plusthatfaintmetallictangthatalwaysclingstohimwhenhe’sbeenworkinginthemarina.
“Youreadyforthis?”
“ReadyasI’lleverbe.”
“Awesome,”hesaysagain,andthenhenodsbacktotheboat.“WillyoudomeafavorandtakethosebagsovertoHal’soffice?”
Halisthemarinamanager,anolderguywithskinlikeleatherandthebluesteyesI’veeverseen.TheboatswaysslightlyundermyfeetasIcrossthedeckandheftthebagsNicohadgesturedto.
One,aredduffelbag,isfilledwithwhatlooktobestrayparts—bitsofbrokenmetalandacoupleofrustytools.
Theother,anotherreusablegrocerysack,isalotlighter,andwhenIglanceinside,Ifrown.
“Um,thesearemine?”Isay,heftingthesack,andNicoturnsbacktome,shadinghiseyes.
“Babe,youdon’tneedthatmanybooksononesail,comeon.Theyweretakinguptoomuchspaceinthecabin.”
Therearemaybeadozenpaperbackshere,somenewerones,butalsomymom’soldAgathaChristies,andthatThailandtravelguide,nearlyeverypagedog-eared.
Ihadn’tjustputthemontheboattoread—they’dbeenpartofmyeffortstomakethespacealittlehomier,alittlemoremine
NicohasalsostuffedoneofthethrowpillowsIboughtintothebag,aswellasacoupleofframedphotos.OneisofthetwoofuswhenIfirstgottoHawaii,standingonthebeach,ourarmsaroundeachother,myfreckledskinpaleagainsthistan.
TheotherisofmeandmymomwhenIgraduatedhighschool.We’rebothsquintingbecausethesunissobright,andIrememberthatwehadtoaskmyfriendMallory’smomtotakethatpictureforus,sincewedidn’thaveanyotherfamilythere.
It’soneofthefewkeepsakesIbroughtwithmefromSanDiego,andit’sbeensittinginmysuitcasetheentiretimewe’vebeencrashingonthatlivingroomfloor.Iwasexcitedtofinallyhaveaplacetoputitontheboat.
Andnowit’sbeenshovedintoagrocerybag.
“Halwillholdontothemwhilewe’regone,”hegoeson,thengivesmethatpatentedNicoshrug.“It’snotabigdeal.”
It’snot.It’llbeherewhenwegetback.AndIgetthatspaceisatapremiumwithfourofusontheboat.Still…
Ammacomesover,lookingdownintothebag.“Oh,it’snotthatmuchstuff,”shesays,thenraisesherheadtocalltoNico.“Besides,Iactuallyforgottobringabook.Wecaneasilymakeroominourcabin.”
Shetakesthebagoutofmyhandwithabrightsmile,settingitbackonthedeck,andIsmilebackather.“Thanks.”
Nicojustshrugs,affableasever.“Finebyme,then.”
IknowthatNicodidn’tmeananythingbyit,andIdon’twanttospoiltheday,soIdropit,takingtheotherbagtoHal’soffice.Withinanhour,we’repullingoutoftheharbor,leavingthetallforestofmastsbehindus,motoringpastyachtsahellofalotbiggerandfancierthantheSusannah.BrittanyandAmmastandatthebow,theirarmslooselyaroundeachother’swaist,windblowingtheirhair.Ifmyphoneweren’tbelowdecks,I’dbetemptedtotakeapictureofthem,putaprettyfilteronit,andgiveitasappycaption.That’sexactlywhattheylooklikerightnow—anaspirationalsocialmediapost.
Astheboatslidesoutintotheopenwater,mystomachdips.Forthefirsttime,it’sreallysinkinginthatwe’redoingthis:we’reheadingoutforaliteraldesertedislandwiththesetwostrangers,andIdon’tknowifwhatI’mfeelingisexcitement,fear,relief,orsomegiddycombinationofallthree.IjustknowthatastheSusannahglidesacrosstheglassywater,somethinginmychestfinallyseemstoloosen.
“Itbeeeegiiiiins,”Brittanysingsout,liftingherarmsandspreadingthemwideasshetipsherheadback.
“Fuckyeah!”Nicohootsback,andAmmalooksoverhershoulderatbothofus,smiling.
Itbegins,Iechoinmyhead.
AndIdon’tjustmeanthisonetrip.
SIX
IknewtheSusannahwassmall,butI’dneverreallyfeltjusthowsmalluntilthatfirstnight,whenallfourofusweredownbelow.
Themaincabinisbothkitchenandsittingroom,withasink,fridge,andasmallstoveononeside,andacushionedbenchthatwrapsaroundatableontheother.Thattableisalsoourbedtonight.Itfoldsdowntobelevelwiththebench,thenwecanslidethebackcushionsoverit,turningitintoaserviceableifnotveryluxurioussleepingspace.
There’salsoasmallcabinatthesterncontainingaV-berth.It’sexactlywhatitsoundslike,amattressintheshapeofaV,curvingintothelinesoftheboat.BrittanyandAmmawillsleepthere,andhonestly,I’mgladwe’regettingthetable-bed.Thecabinistinywithalowceiling,andeventhoughthere’sahatchandNicohasinstalledalittlefanonthewall,itstillgetsprettystuffy.
Otherthanthat,there’sjustatinybathroom—thehead,asNicokeepsremindingme—attheotherendoftheboat,somestoragecabinets,andthat’sit.
Inadditionto“decorating”withmybooksandphotos,I’dmadeacurtainforthewindowinthelittlecabin,andboughtacheerfulpineapplerugforthekitchen.Still,there’snoescapingthefactthatit’scramped.
BrittanyandAmmadon’tseemtomind,though.Asweeatourdinner—thefirstofdozensofmealsofriceandbeansaheadofus—theysayoverandoveragainhowcuteeverythingis,withBrittanytakingphotosofthespacefromeveryangle.
“Howlonghaveyouhadthisboat?”sheasksnow,takingasipofbottledwater
Nicoissittingacrossfromher,nexttome,andputshiselbowsonthetableashelooksaround.“Boughtheracoupleofyearsago.Beenfixingherupeversince.”
“WhytheSusannah?”Ammaasks.Sheonlyateabouthalfofherdinnerbeforepushingitaway.
Nicoshrugs.“TheboathadastupidnamewhenIboughtit.ZephyrBreeze.And,like,azephyrisabreeze,sowhatthefuck?Anyway,IwasdatingthisgirlnamedSusannah,so…”
Ialreadyknowthisstory,buteverytimeIhearit,mychesttightensuncomfortably.It’ssomethingaboutthewayhejustwavesheroffdespitenamingawholefuckingboatafterher.Anditmakesmewonderifsomeday,someothergirlwilllookatthatLonNico’sarm,andhe’llgivethatsameshrugandsay,“ItwasforthisgirlIwasdating,Lux,itwasn’tabigthing,”andthat’llbeit.
“Ithoughtitwasbadlucktorenameaboat,”Ammasays.Sheleansbackinthebooth,pullingonefootupontothecushionandwrappingherarmsaroundherknee.“Mightbetemptingfate.”
She’ssmilingalittle,teasing,butI’dneverheardthatbefore,andIglanceoveratNico.
“Somepeoplesaythat,”hereplieswithanod.“ButIdon’tknow.Neverbeenmuchforthatsuperstitiousshit.”
Hesmilessuddenly,bumpingmewithhisshoulder.“Anyway,thepersonyoushouldbeaskingisLux.TheSusannahisherboat,afterall.”
IrollmyeyesevenasBrittanysitsforward.“Wait,seriously?”
“No,”Isay.“Well,technically.Onpaper.”
Acoupleofmonthsago,IcamehometofindNicohadabunchofpaperworkformetosign,transferringtheboatintomyname.ApparentlyNico’sdadhadcalled,andthey’dhadsomebigtalkabouttaxesorsomething.Honestly,Ididn’treallyunderstandmuchofit,andNicokeptinsistingitwasn’tabigdeal,thatitwouldmakethings“easier”onusfinanciallyiftheboatwereinmyname.Sothat’showItechnicallybecamethelegalowneroftheSusannah.
Notthatitmeantmuch—itwasstillverymuchNico’sboat.
Leaningforward,Brittanypropsherchininherhand.“Okay,sonowweknowabouttheboat,butwhatIreallywanttoknowaboutisyoutwo.”Shegesturesbetweenus.“Tellmeeverything.Howyoumet,wasitloveatfirstsight,allthereallypersonal,dreamyshit.”
Ilaughatthat,andNicogrins,throwinganarmaroundmyshouldersandpullingmeincloser.“Oh,totallyloveatfirstsight.Formeatleast.”
IrollmyeyesevenasIsmile.“He’slying.WemetwhileIwasworkingatthisrestaurantwiththeugliestuniformsyouhaveeverseen.Nomanhaseverfalleninstantlyinlovewithawomaninkhakishorts.”
“Idid,”Nicoinsists.“Iwentbackeverynightfortwoweeksjusttoseeyouinthosekhakishorts.”
“Ofcourse,mycoworkersandIfeltsorryforhimbecauseasyoucansee,he’ssuperhomely,”Iadd,makingBrittanyandAmmalaugh,asNicojokinglyjostlesme.
“Anyway,”Nicogoeson,“Ifinallysackedupandaskedabouther,andshecametomytable,andthatwasthat.”
“We’veprettymuchbeentogethereversince,”Isay,smilingatthememoryofthatfirstnight,rememberingthethrillI’dfeltwhenNicoslippedhishandinmine,thatsensethat,finally,Iwasanchoredtosomething.Tosomeone.
Brittanyisstillsmilingatus,hereyesbright.“Iloveeverythingaboutthis,”shesays.“Meanttobe.”
IleanmyheadonNico’sshoulder,feelingthefamiliar,solidwarmthofhim.
Meanttobe.
Iwasn’tsureifIcompletelybelievedinthatkindofthing.Fate,destiny.IthinkNicowalkedintomylifeattherighttime,andIthinkhelikedthatIneededrescuing,thathecouldoffermesomethingIwantedsomuch.Notjustanotherpersontosharemylifewith,butadventure,newexperiences.
Nicocontinues,“ThefirsttimeIsawthosesadeyesofhers,Iwasagoner.”
Iliftmyhead.“Sad?”
He’sneversaidthattomebefore.Heusuallyjokesthatitwasmybrightredhairthatcaughthisattention,thepalemilkinessofmyskin.
“Mm-hmm,”hesaysnow,takingaglugfromhisbottleofwater.“EverytimeIcamein,evenwhenyouweresmiling,youjustlookedreallysad.Iwantedtoknowwhy,Iguess.”
Brittanyisstillsmilingwarmly,butIdon’tlikethepicturehe’spainting,thesadgirlmopingaroundaseafoodjoint,waitingfortherightguytoaskabouthertragedy.
“Imean,yeah,thatwasaroughtime,butIwasn’texactlygoingaroundcrying,”Isay,scootingawayalittle.“Iwasholdingittogetherdespite…allofthatshit.”
“Whatshit?”
Ammaiswatchingusnow,herelbowsonthetable.“Mymomgotsickfiveyearsago,”Isay.“Cancer.I’ddroppedoutofcollegetotakecareofher,andthenonceshewasgone,goingbacktoschoolwasalotofwork,and—”
“Wassheyouronlyfamily?”
Brittany’sbrowsaredrawnclosetogether,andthere’ssomethinginherexpressionthattellsmesheactuallycaresaboutmyanswer.
“Kindof?”Ishrug,uncomfortable,myneckgoinghot.“MyparentsgotdivorcedwhenIwaseleven,aftermydaddecidedtobecomealivingclichéandknockuphissecretary.”
“Jesus.”Ammaexhales,andInod.
“Right.SothetwoofusmovedtoCaliforniaforafreshstartwhilehestartedhisbrand-newfamilyinNebraska.AndwhenMomgotsick,meandmydadweren’ttalking,soyeah.Iguessshewasitforme.”
Idon’ttellthemaboutthephonecallImadetomyfather,closetotheend.Moneywasrunningout,Momcouldn’teveneatanymore—herboneshadstartedjuttingoutbeneathherpaperyskin—andherinsurancewasrefusingtocoverin-homehospicecare.
Idon’ttellthemhowcalmhisvoicewasontheotherendofthephone.
Yourmothermadeachoice,Lux.Shedidn’twantmeinherlife.Neitherdidyou.Sonowyoubothneedtolivewiththat.
Justthememoryofit—oftheshameandtherageandthetotaldisbeliefthathecouldbethatcruel,thatIhavethatman’sDNAinmyblood—makesmystomachclench.
“Anyway,”Isay,makingmyselfsmile,“itsucked,butitallledmehere,youknow?ToNicoandtheSusannah.IfI’dstayedincollege,Iwould’vehadaB.A.inEnglishlitandprobablystillendedupasawaitress,onlywithalotofstudentdebt.”
“Sailingtoadesertedislanddoessoundbetterthanthat,”Ammasayswithanod,andIturnaway,gratefulthatshe’sfoundawaytograciouslyendtheconversation,butstillfeelingmorethanalittleraw.
Throughthesmallcabinwindow,Icanseethatthenightskyhasgrowndark,andNicostandsup,stretching.“I’lltakefirstwatch.”
Brittanylooksup.“Watch?”
NicogivesherasmilethatI’veseenbefore,theonethat’salittlecondescending,notshowinganyteeth,hisdimplesdeepening.I’veneverlikedthatsmile,andit’sespeciallyunsettlingfromthisperspective.Suddenly,Icatchaglimpseofwhathemust’vebeenlikebefore,backwhenhewasn’tNicotheCoolBoatGuy,butratherNicholasJohannsenIII,growingupinLaJollawithhislawyerdad,hisBotoxedmom,hisfancyprepschooluniform,andhisexpensivecar.
It’sajarringreminderthatdespitelivingtogetherintightquartersforthelastsixmonths,there’sstillalotthatIdon’tknowaboutmyboyfriend.
“Wecan’tjustallgotosleep,”hetellsBrittany.“Someonehastokeepaneyeout.”
“But…”Shegesturesattheradiopanel,theradarthatsitsonalittleshelfjuttingoutfromthewallbetweenthesleepingcabinandthemaingalley.“It’sthetwenty-firstcentury.Isn’teverythingbasicallydonedigitallynow?”
“Someofit,”Nicosays,crossinghisarmsoverhischest,hisskinverybrownagainsttheraggedsleevesofhisT-shirt.OnlynowdoIseethatthefadedlettersonthebackread,JOHANNSEN&MILLERFAMILYPICNIC2011.
“Butnothingisbetterthanthese,”hegoeson,forkinghisfingersandpointingathisowneyes.“Andtrustme,thelastthingyouwantistomissanalarmandhaveacontainershipbearingdownonyouattwointhemorning.”
I’veheardthisparticularwarningbefore,andIknowwhereNico’sgoingwithit.
“Lotofthosebig-assshipsgetbackintoportandfindtheriggingofsmallersailboatstangledupintheirbow,”hesays,andthere’salittlebitofagleaminhiseyeashesmacksonepalmagainsttheother,pushing.“Theyjustcreamedsomeboatinthedark,andneverevenknewit.”
Ifhe’dexpectedthegirlstolookalarmed,hemustbedisappointedbecauseBrittanylooksunfazed.“Well,wedefinitelydon’twanttobecreamed,”Brittanysays,andAmmasnortsintoherwater.
Nicolooksalittleataloss.Igetupfromthetable,collectingourdishes.“I’llrelieveyouatthree,”Isay,andheslipsanarmaroundmywaistasIpass,bringingmeinforaquickkissonthecheek.
“Perfect,babe.Thanks.”
Heswatsatmyassbeforejoggingbackupthestepstothedeck,andIturntoBrittanyandAmma,mycheeksalittleflushed.IsNicoalwaysthis…bro-y?Imean,Idefinitelyknewhehadtendencies.Butthere’ssomethingaboutseeinghimthroughBrittany’sandAmma’seyesthatmakesmefeellikeIhavetosay,“ThistripisclearlybringingouthisinnerSigmaNu.”
Brittanysmilesandwavesmeoff.“He’sagoodguy,”shesays,andAmmanods,foldingherarmsonthetable.
“Notbadtolookat,either.”
Thewordsdon’tmakemejealous,onlyproud,whichismaybealittlepathetic.
“Doyouneedanyhelpwiththose?”Brittanyasks,noddingattheplates,butIshakemyhead.
“No,Igotthis.Goonuptothedeck.Thestarsareunreal,Ibet.”
Theydon’tneedtobetoldtwice,andIhearNicocallouttothemastheyemergeabove.
Withoutthreeotherpeopleinhere,thegalleyactuallyfeelsalittleopen,andItakeadeepbreath,relishingthesefewmomentsalone.
IwonderifImaybeshould’veletthegirlsfindtheirownboat,abiggeronewhereweweren’tallontopofeachother.
Butno,it’sworthbeingalittlecrammed.TheSusannahisfinallyfixed.Andassoonaswe’rebackfromthistrip,NicoandIwillbefreetostartourownadventure,anditwon’tfeelclaustrophobic.Itwillfeel…cozy.
Homey.
Besides,intwodays,we’llreachtheisland—atoll—andtherewillbeplentyofspace.Toomuch,probably.
Afterrinsingthedishesinthelittlepumpsink,Igobacktothetabletocollectthewaterbottles,stickingmyfingersintheneckstogatherthemallup.AsIdo,IglanceatBrittany’sphone,stilllyingonthetable.ThelockscreenshowsapictureofBrittanyandAmmawiththeirarmsaroundeachother’sshoulders,theColosseuminthebackground.Theirsmilesarebroad,buttheybothlookalittlepalerthantheydonow,thinner,too—Brittanyalmostalarminglyso,hercheekbonesstandingoutsomuchthattheycreatetheirownshadows.Amma’sknucklesonBrittany’sshoulderarealmostwhite,herfingertipsdiggingintoBrittany’sskin.
Frowning,Ileaninalittlecloser,butbeforeIcanstudythephotographfurther,Ihearfeetonthestepsagain,andquicklyturnbacktothesink.I’mrinsingoutthebottleswhenBrittanyappearsinthegalley,reachingforherphone.
“Justwantedtogetsomepicturesofthesky,”shesays,thenlooksagainatthesink.“Yousureyoudon’tneedhelp?Ifeelbad.”
“Don’t,”Iassureher.“I’llbeupinasecond.”
“Okay,butyou’dbeupinhalfasecondifIhelp,”shesays,andIfindmyselfsmilingbackather.They’rejustbothreallynice—notwhatIexpectedgirlslikethistobe.
Brittanyjoinsmeatthesink,closeenoughthatourhipsbumpasshereachesforoneoftheplates.Thepumpsinkdoesn’thavethebestwaterpressure,butwemanagetocleantheremainingplatesandforksprettyquickly,andthenI’monthedeckwithallofthem,staringupoverhead.
Therearesomanystarsthattheyalmostseemfake,andIrestonehandagainstthemastasmyeyestrytotakeitallin.Theseaisopenandemptyallaroundus,theskystretchingoutoverhead,andit’sallsoclear,sovast,thatIcanseethecurveoftheearth,andsuddenlyIunderstandwhyNicoenjoysthissomuch.
Idon’tfeelsmallorscaredoralone.Ifeelpartofsomethingbigger.
AndwhenIlookoveratBrittany,herfacetippeduptothesky,Iseeagrinstretchingwideacrossherface.
BEFORE
Brittanyiscryingagain.
Ammaliesonthebottombunk,listeningtothesobsabove.They’remuffledbecauseBrittanyhasburiedherfaceintoherpilloworthewallorablanket—shetriestohideit,butthisisn’tthegracefulcryingthatgirlsdoinmovies,silenttearstrackingdownpalefaces.Thisisfull-bodyshit,shouldersshaking,tearsspraying,noseleaking,throataching.
Ammaknowsbecauseshe’sdonehershareofthiskindofcrying.
Thebunkroomisuncomfortablywarmevenwiththewindowsopen,thenightoutsidehotandstill,andAmmahearsadoggivetwoshortbarks,theonlysoundotherthanthesobs.
SheandBrittanyhadpickedthishostelbecauseitwascheap,andatthetime,atwenty-minutetrainrideoutsideofParishadn’tsoundedthatfar,plusitwasagooduseoftheirEurailpasses.ButAmmahadn’tthoughtabouthowlonelyitmightfeelouthereinthesuburbs,howthepaceandnoiseandlightsofthecitymightkeepthiskindofbreakdownatbay.Thequiethereistoothick,tooheavy,andtheoldladywhorunstheplacehasacurfew,whichmeanstheywereallintheirbunksbymidnight,thedoorslocked.
Weshould’vespentafewextraeurosandstayedinthecity,Ammathinks,punchingherpillowdown.Buttheirmoneyisalreadystartingtorunoutandtheyneverhadthatmuchtobeginwith.
Brittanygivesanotherchokingcry,andfromacrosstheroom,oneoftheotherAmericangirlsstayinginthehostelsitsup.AmmathinkshernameisTaylororHayden,somethinglikethat.She’sfromSouthCarolina,Ammaremembersfromthebriefconversationtheyhadovertheshareddinnerofsandwichesandsoupintherustickitchen,andheraccentisthickasshesnaps,“Girl,whoeverheis,he’snotworthit.Shutupandgotosleep.”
Ammaisupalmostbeforesherealizesit,tossingherpillowbackonthebunk,angersurgingthroughherbloodsoquicklyitalmostmakesherdizzy.
“Backthefuckoff,”shesays,hervoicesharpandtooloudinthesilentroom,andthegirlaboveTaylororHaydenfromSouthCarolinasitsup,too.
“Lesnerfs!”
Amma’sFrenchisshitty,stucksomewhereineleventhgrade,soshedoesn’tknowwhatthatmeans,butshe’sassumesit’stellinghertocalmdownorshutup.Ormaybeit’ssomeuniquelyFrenchphrasethatconveysboth.
ButBrittanyisalreadyslidingfromthebunk,herpurpleplaidpajamapantsridinguponeslenderlegasshemutters,“Jesuisdésolée,jesuisdésolée.”
I’msorry,I’msorry.
That,Ammadoesknow—she’salwaysthoughtdésoléeisaweirdlyintensewordforsorry.ButasBrittanyslinksfromtheroom,stillsniffling,herpillowclutchedtoherchest,it’stheonlywordthatfits.
Desolate.
It’sthefeelingthatsheandBrittanyhavebothbeentryingtooutrun.Witheachnewdestination,Ammakeepsthinkingthatmaybenowthey’llhaveescapedit.OnthefirstflightfromAtlantatoLondon,she’dimaginedallthatsadness,allthatgrief,slippingawayfromthemtopoolontherunway,asludgeoflosstheycouldleavefartherandfartherbehindwitheachstampintheirpassports.
Butitslipsbackinatnight,andnosight,noexperience,seemsabletoexorciseit.
ThefloorisgrittybeneathAmma’sfeetasshefollowsBrittanyintothehallway.Assheleavesthebunkroom,shehearsamurmurofvoicesandsheknowsthey’llleavetomorrow.ThisfirstnighthasalreadymarkedthemastheWeirdOnes—the“girlwhocries”and“herpsychofriend”—andthatisfatalinthesekindsofplaceswherewordslikevibeandchillareparamount.
Fuckthem,shethinks,crossingtheemptylivingroomasshehearsBrittanyunlockthebackdoor.Iftheyonlyknew,iftheyonlyunderstood…
Thehostelhasasmallbackgardenwithwrought-ironfurnitureandafewpottedplants,andAmmafindsBrittanystandinginthemiddleofit,herfacetilteduptotheskyasshesucksindeepbreaths,herpillowlyinginthegrassatherfeet.
Herhairispulledbackfromherface,andAmmanoticesthesharpnessofherchin,thehollowsunderneathhercheekbones.She’sgettingthinneragain,thoughshe’sstillnotasthinasshewaswhenAmmafirstmether.Sittinginfoldingchairsinachurchbasement,AmmahadthoughtBrittanylookedsick.Beautiful,sure,withallthatdarkhairandthosebighazeleyes—butbrittleandinsubstantial,liketheslightestthingwouldbreakher.
Brittanyistougherthanthat,evenwiththemidnightcry-fests.Ammaknowsthatnow.
Sheturns,sensingAmma’sapproach,andshewipesatherface.“I’msorry,”shesaysimmediately,andAmmashrugs.
“Yousaidthatalready.ButinFrench,soIguessitdoesn’tcount.”
Brittanygivesawaterychucklebeforegroaningandplungingherhandsintoherhair.“God,”shesighs.“AmIgoingtocryalloverEurope?”
“You’reentitledtoit,”Ammasays,steppingcloserandputtinganarmaroundBrittany’sshoulders,huggingheragainstthesideofherbody.Thenightiswarm,butBrittany’sskiniscold,andsheshiversalittleasshepressesinclosertoAmma.
“Ithoughtitwouldgetbetter,”shesays,hervoicequiet,andAmmafeelsherownthroatgrowtight.
She’snotlikeBrittany—cryingdoesn’tcomeeasytoher,nordoesitseemtohelp.Tearsneverleaveherfeelingrelievedorsoothed,justexhaustedandvaguelyashamed,likeshegaveintosomethingsheshouldn’thave.Aguiltypurgeratherthanacleansingcatharsis.
“Itwill,”shetellsBrittanynow.“Imean,we’reonlyonthesecondweekofthisthing.Youhavetogiveittime.”
Brittanystepsawayfromher,scrubbingahandoverherface.“YousoundlikeDr.Amin.”
Ammaknowsshedoes,andshekindofhatesthat,buttheleaderoftheirgriefgroupisthevoiceinherheadatmomentslikethese.
Giveittime.
Nothingyoufeeliswrong.
Therewillalwaysbeabeforeandanafter,andyouhavetolearntoliveintheafter
ThatwastheoneBrittanylikedthemost.“IntheAfter”istattooedincurlingscriptontheinsideofherwristnow,slightlyhiddenbythebeadedbraceletsshe’scurrentlywearing.She’dgottenthetattoojustbeforethey’dleftonthistrip,apledgetoenjoylifeagain.
That’swhattravelingaroundEuropewassupposedtobeabout:seeingnewthings,exploringnewplaces,andcementingthebondbetweenthemwithnewmemories.Otherwise,theywereonlyfriendsbecausethesamehorriblethinghadhappenedtoeachofthem.Theywantedtobefriendsbecausethey’dchoseneachother.Theywantedtohaveastorytheycouldtellthatwouldn’tmakepeoplewince,theireyeswiden,theirlipswobblewithsympathyor,worse,pity.
We’lltellpeoplewemetincollege,Brittanyhadsaid.Instantbestfriends.
Inthesamehistoryclass,Ammahadadded.Maybeasorority.Didthebackpackingthingoursenioryear.
Theycouldalmostseeit,thisfunhousemirrorversionofthemselves,wheretheywerenormal.
Now,AmmahugsBrittanyagain,wrappingherotherarmaroundher.“Tomorrowisgoingtobebetter,”shesays.
BrittanypracticallyshovesAmmaawayasshesays,“Jesus,didyoujustfollowmeoutheretobeahumanfortunecookie?”
AnotherthingAmmaisgettingusedto,thesesuddenshifts,asthougheverymoodBrittanyeverhasisalwaysrightthereatthesurface,waitingtoburstforth.Ammaunderstandsit,butthatdoesn’tmeansheisn’ttiredofit.
No,Ifollowedyououtherebecauseyouwerecryinglikealunaticagain,andyou’retheonewithafuckingfortunecookiesayingliterallyinkedonyourskin,somaybetakeaseat,Britt.
Theharshwordsarerightthereonhertongue,soheavyshecanalmosttastethem,andAmmaimagineshowgooditwouldfeeltosaywhatsheactuallythinks—butitwouldonlylastforafewmoments,andthentheregretwouldsetin.Besides,theystillhavetwomoreweeksonthistripandonemorecountrytogetthroughtogetherbeforetheyheadbackhometoNewHampshire.Afightnowwouldjustruineverything.
“I’mjusttryingtohelp,”Ammasaysinstead,thewordspaleandweak,andBrittanysighsasshewrapsherarmstightlyaroundherbody,huggingherelbows.Herskinisfaintlyblueinthemoonlight,andonceagain,Ammawishesthey’dstayedinPariswheretheycouldeasethistensionwithalate-nightdrinkoramaddashthroughthecitystreets,findingboysnamedEtienneandAlexandretoflirtwithindimcafés.
Instead,they’reinthesadbackyardofasadsuburbanhostel,andwhenBrittanysays,“Idon’tthinkyoucanhelp.Idon’tthinkanyonecan,”Ammathinkstoherself,Thiswasamistake.
Shetellsherselfshemeanschoosingthehostel.
Butsheknowsbetter.
Forsuchasmallatoll,MeroeIslandisoverstuffedwithlegend.NamedfortheHMSMeroe,afrigatethatwasshipwreckedtherein1821,theatollis,fromthewater,averitableEden,achild’sstorybookidealofanisland.Thereislittlehintofthedangersthatawaityouonceyouhavesetfootonitssandybeaches.Impenetrablejungleandadearthoffreshwaterarethefirstchallenges,butthereareothers.Thefishthatswiminthelagoonarebeautifullyandbrightlycolored,yetpoisonous,andthereforeinedible.Asmallbutdeadlyspeciesofsharkswimsthroughthecrystallinewaters.Insectsbuzzandbite,carryingwiththemallmanneroftropicalfevers.Andyetforallthat,perhapsthemostdangerouselementofMeroeiswhattheislandseemstodotothosewhotarrytheretoolong.Asortofmadnesssetsinwhenoneisawayfromsocietyfortoolong,whenonelooksouttothehorizonandseesonlyseaandsky—RamblesandRecollections:MyTravelsintheSouthPacificbyLordChristopherEllings,1931NOW
SEVEN
Mymorningwatchontheshipendsasthesuncomesup.
Theskyalmostlookslikeit’sonfire,andthesoftpinksI’maccustomedtoareinsteadablazingred,bleedingintoorange.
Thecolorsarereflectedintheglass-likesurfaceoftheoceanallaroundus,andeventhoughit’sbeautiful,mystomachsinks.
Redskyatnight,sailor’sdelight.Redskyatmorning,sailorstakewarning.
ItwasoneofthefirstthingsNicotaughtmewhenhewasteachingmeaboutsailing.Lookingatthisbloodredskyrightnow,it’shardtoimagineastormheadingourway,butIcanalmostsmellitontheair,ahintofacold,metallictinge.
Nicopopshisheadoutofthecabinandfrowns.“Fuck,”hemutters,andthenhe’sgoneagain.
Alarmskittersupmyspine,andIfollowhimbelow.
He’ssittingatthetableinthegalley,scowlingataweatherradarmapopenonhislaptop.WhenIcomecloser,hetapsatabigblobofgreenonthescreen.“Thereitis,”hesays,andthesimplephrasemakesmykneeswatery.“Nottoobig,andifwealtercoursenow,Ithinkwecanmostlyskatearoundtheedgesofit,but…”Hereleasesabreath,rufflinghishair.“I’mnotgonnalie,it’sgonnagetalittlegnarly.”
“Whatexactlyisyourdefinitionof‘alittlegnarly’?”Iask,foldingmyarmsacrossmychest,butbeforehecananswer,thedoortothecabinopens.Brittanyappears,withalooseandfadedT-shirtslippingoffoneofhertannedshoulders,herdarkhairatangledmessasshelooksatuswithsleepyeyes.“Somethingwrong?”sheasks,andIshakemyheadevenasNicosays,“We’rejustinforabitofroughweather.”
Thatwakesherup.Hereyesgowide,andsheturnstosaysomethingtoAmma,whoIcanseeslidingoutofthebedbehindher.
“Whatdoweneedtodo?”Ammaasks.
Nicopauses.“Look,I’mgoingtodomybesttokeepusoutoftheworst,butyoushouldgoaheadandgetdressed,andgrablifejackets.Andevenifyoudon’tusuallygetseasick,takesomemedsnow.”
Hegoestothecounterandpullsouttheredplasticmedicalkit,grabsablisterpack,andtossesittoAmma.
“Andbesuretostaybelow,”hetellsthemboth.“Justhunkerdown.”
ThenNicoliftshiseyestome,hisexpressionasseriousasI’veeverseenit.“You’rewithme,babe.”
Thewordswarmmeevenasrealfeartakeshold.
We’reateam.
We’reinthistogether.
ITCOMESONSLOW,THENallatonce.
Thefirstsignisthewaytheairgetscolder,enoughthatI’meagertoslideontheslickerNicogaveme.Ihavealifejacketonunderthat,andtheentiregetupisbulky,andonlymadeworsebythefactthatIalsohaveanylonbeltaroundmywaist,clippingmeintotheship.
That’swhatsuddenlymakesitfeelrealforme:theideaofwindandwavesthatarestrongenoughtosendmeovertheside,withthisonestraptheonlythingbetweensafetyandallthatocean.
I’vehadsailinglessons,bothfromNicobackinSanDiegoandinMaui.SometimesNicoteachesme,sometimesit’soneoftheguysatthemarina,andI’vegottenalotmorecomfortableonthewater,enoughsothatI’vetakenaboatoutonmyownseveraltimesnow.Butallofthoselessonshadhappenedoncalmwaterunderbrightblueskies.
Thisisdifferent.
Withinafewhours,theskygoessodarkitalmostfeelslikenight.Thewindthatslapsmeinthefaceiscold,therainthatslithersinsidemyjacketevenmoreso,andIfeellikethewholeworldhasturnedupsidedown,almostliterally.
Nicoisatthewheel,hisfeetplantedfirmly,andIblink,myvisionblurrywithrainandseawater.Itellmyselfit’sbetterbeingouthereonthedeck,thatifIwerebelowlikeBrittanyandAmma,itwoulddrivemeinsanetonotactuallyseewhatwashappening.
ButasIwatchawaveswellupinfrontofus,higherandhigher,Iclosemyeyesinstinctively.Idon’twanttoseethis,don’twanttowitnessclimbingthatwallofwaterevenasIfeeltheSusannahbegintorise.ThewindishowlingsoloudlythatIcan’thearwhatNicoisshoutingtome,andItrytostayonmyfeetevenastheboattiltsatacrazyangle.
ThisisnothowIwanttodie,sweptoverboardintothatroilingwater.
ThedeckisslipperyasIclutchthehandholdsboltedtothesides.Thesailsaredown,obviously,butourengineisstillrunning,propellingusthroughthewater,andIslowlymakemywaytoNico,shoutingtobeheardoverthefuryofthestorm.
“WhatcanIdo?”
Waterisstreamingoverhisslicker,andhishandsarered,knuckleswhitefromwherehe’sgrippingthewheel.“We’vegottotrytokeephersteady!”heshoutsback.“Ifsheturnssideways…”
Hedoesn’thavetofinishthesentence.
IftheSusannahturnstostarboardorport,oneofthesewavescanrollher,andthenit’sover.
Iputmyhandsalongsidehisonthewheel,feelingtheincrediblepullofshipandsea,andthroughthesheetsofwaterpouringoverus,Iseethecabindooropen.
Atfirst,Ithinkit’sjusttheforceoftheshipthat’spulledit,butthenIseeBrittany’sdarkhair,abrightorangelifejacket,andshe’smovingslowlyoutontothedeck,duckingherheadagainstthewindandwater.
“Fuck!”IhearNicoshout,andhejerkshisheadatme.“Getherbackinside.She’snotclippedin.”
IletgoofthewheelasNicogruntsandgripsevenharder,andslowlyinchmywaytowardher.
“Getbackdownbelow!”Iyell,butsheeithercan’tunderstandmeordoesn’tcare,becauseshe’sonthedecknow,lookingaroundinamazementorshock,Ican’treallytell.
“Brittany!”Iyellagain,andfinallysheturnsandlooksatme.
“I’msorry!Ijustcouldn’tstaydownthere!”sheshoutsback,shakingherhead.“Notknowing—”
“Okay,wellnowyouknow!”Ishoutback.“It’sscaryasfuck!”
Shelaughs,eventhoughshelookspaleandgreen,andImovecloser,urgingherbacktowardthecabindoor.
Ithappenssofast.
Oneminute,I’monmyfeet,myhandsoutinfrontofme,thenext,theshipislurching,myfeetareslipping,andI’mfalling.
Thedecktilts,andIseewhite-capped,frothywaterrisingupatmyside,andI’mslidingtowardit.
NO!
It’stheonlythoughtinmyfranticmindasIscrambleforpurchase,aconstantlitanyofnononoNONONO.
Myfeetflailonthewetdeck,desperateforsomething,anythingtograbonto,andIclutchatthelifelinearoundmeevenasthenylonpullsthroughmyfingers,tearingskin.
Ihearadistantpop,andforasecond,IthinkI’vebrokenasmallboneinmyhand.It’sonlywhenthetensionaroundmywaistgiveswaythatIrealizemylinehassnapped.
There’snothingtetheringmetotheship.
Myhandssting,wetwithseawaterandblood,butIplantbothpalmsdownonthedeck,tryingtostopthisslideintonothingness.Redstreaksfollowmedown,andIwatchalmostfromadistanceasthewaterturnsthempink,washesthemaway.
Idigmyhandsinhardereventhoughthere’snothingtogrip,andthenmyfoothitsthesideoftheboat,hard,andthenmyankleisovertheside,myshin,myfootdanglingovernothingness,I’msliding…
There’sanothersharplurch,andIslipforwardagain.
TheSusannahrightsitselfjustasI’mabouttobetippedoverintothesea,andIrollback,awayfromtheedge,pantinghard.
“Lux!”IhearBrittanyshouting,andoutofthecornerofmyeye,Iseehertryingtomovecloser.
Myhandsarescreaming,andIthinkImighthavebrokenoneofmytoes,butIlurchtomyfeetanyway,shovingherback.Shestumblesintothecabin,andIshutthedoor,leaningagainstitandlettingmylegsgiveoutasIslumptothedeck.
Inseconds,I’dgonefromscaredbutalive,tonearlydead.
IsearchthroughthewindandrainforNico,buthe’shiddenfrommyviewnowthatI’msitting,andIwonderifhesawmenearlygoover.
It’snotlikehecould’vedoneanything.Butstill,ithadonlybeenBrittany’scryIheard,nothis.
THEWINDBEGINSTODIEdownfirst,therainslowinguntilit’slittlemorethanadrizzle,andthenit’sjust…gone.
Thewholestormseemstohavevanishedasquicklyasitappeared,theskyoverheadsuddenlyturnsblueagaininsteadofgray,andthesunbeamsbrightlydownonus.It’sover.
I’mstillsittingthereonthedeck,sweatinginsidemyslicker,tryingtowrapmymindaroundhowquicklythingschanged.Atthewheel,Nicolaughs,alreadyunbuttoninghisjacket.“JesusChrist.”Hescrubsahandoverhishair,sendingdropletsofwaterflying.“Thatwasfuckedup.”
Itwas,butNicosaysitsocheerfullythatIdon’tthinkhereallyunderstandshowscaryitwasforme,howdangerous,andIfeelangerwellupinsideme,pressingagainstmybreastbone,makingmyhandsshakeasIcrossthesmalldistancebetweenus.
“Wecould’vedied,”Isay.“Ialmostdiddie.Didyouevenseehowuselessthisfuckingthingwas?Ialmostwentovertheside!”
Iholdupthefrayedendofmysafetyrope,andhefrowns,takingitbetweenhisfingers.“Shit,babe,”hesays,andIfeeltearssuddenlywellup,mythroattight.
“Butyou’reokay,right?”heasks,lookingatmewiththosebrowneyes,and…thetruthis,Iam.Scared,sure,andmyhandsstillreallyhurt,buthe’sright.Itcould’vegonereallybadly,butitdidn’t.
Behindme,IhearBrittanyandAmmamakingtheirwayupondeck.Idon’twanttofightinfrontofthem,don’twantthemtoseemeastheShriekingandVeryUncoolGirlfriend,andsoIletitdrop,becausewhatelsecanIdo?Thestormhaspassed.
IshakemyheadandleanintoNico,wrappinganarmaroundhisneck.“I’mokay,”Isayfirmly,andhissmilereturns.
Brittanythrowsherarmsaroundme,squeezingmetight.“Holyshit,youweresobadass!”shesays,andwhenshepullsback,Iseegenuineadmirationinherface.
Turningoverhershoulder,shecallstoAmma,“Didyouseethisbitch?Nearlywentovertheside,wasall,‘Nottoday,motherfucker!’Shepushedherselfbackonboardand—”
“Theboatrighteditself,”Isay,shakingmyhead.Nowthattheterrorisfadingsome,italmostfeelskindofsilly.Onlyonelegreallywentover,andthosetoesI’dbeensurewerebrokenarenowjustsortofdullythrobbing.Icanwiggletheminmyshoes.
Brittanyturnsbacktome.“No,youfull-onpushedyourselfbackonboard.I’mtellingyou,itwasawesome.”Shetakesmyshouldersinbothhands,grinninginmyface.“You’reasurvivor,Lux.”
“Noonewantstodielikethat,trustme,”Isay.“Youwould’vedonethesamething.”
Brittanyshakesherhead.“Idon’tthinkso.Honestly.Somepeoplewould’vebeentooscaredtodoanythingbutletgo.It’seasier,youknow?”
InodbecauseIdoknow,andI’msuddenlyreallytired,alltheadrenalinedrainingoutofme.
“Baptismbyfire,”Nicoaddswithagrin,throwinganarmaroundme,andItrynottothinkofthatmomentwhenIwasslidingandmyhandwasreachingfornothing,mybloodstreakingacrosstheSusannah’spristinewhitedecks.
OfhowIhadputmylifeinNico’shands,andhenearlyletmego.
BEFORE
There’sagirlonNico’sboat.
InthemonthsinceLuxwalkedoutoftheCoveholdingNico’shand,she’sseenpeopleonboardtheSusannah.Nicohasanever-endingrotationoffriendsstoppingby,butthey’vealwaysbeenguys,menwholookalotlikeNico.Tanned,beautiful,teethsostraightandwhitethattheycanonlybetheresultofthousandsofdollarsoforthodontia.TheyallsmelllikeNico,too,thatmixofsaltandmotoroilthatLuxhasgottensousedto.
There’sneverbeenagirlbefore.
Butthere’sonenow.AsLuxmakesherwaydownthedock,armsfullofgrocerybags,sheseesher,agirlwithlongdarkhairstandingonthedeckoftheSusannah.It’slateafternoon,earlyevening,really,andsheislimnedingoldenlight.She’swearingafloralsundressthatfluttersagainstherlegs,andthere’sanexpensive-lookingleathertotehangingfromoneshoulder.Herarmsarefoldedtightacrossherslendertorso,andasLuxwatches,onehanddartsup,swipingathercheekbeneathhugesunglasses.
She’scrying.
Nicoisstandingacrossfromher,onehandbracedonthemast,hisfacesetinanexpressionLuxhasn’tseenyet.
Helooks…bored?Butthere’salsosomethingaboutthestiffwayhe’sholdinghimself,therigidityofhisposture,thatsetslittlealarmbellsringinginherhead.
Luxishitwithamemory,ofsittinginthefrontseatofhermom’sHondaCivic,thedaytheyleftforCalifornia.Shewastwelve,slumpedinthepassengerseat,watchingthroughthewindowasherparentsstoodinthefrontyardoftheirhouse.
Exceptit’shishousenow,sheremembersthinking.Hermomhadbeensayingsomething,shakingherhead,butherdadhadjuststoodthere,hisposturecasual,handsshovedinpockets.Everythingabouthimhadfeltlikealockeddoor,andLuxknewhermomnolongerhadthekey.
That’showNicolooksrightnow.Whateverthisgirlissayingtohim,he’snoddingandlistening,butshe’snotgettingin.
Luxhasnearlymadeittotheirslip,hersneakersquietonthefadedwoodofthedock,andNicoseesher,liftinghischinslightlyinherdirectionevenasthecornersofhismouthbrieflyturndown.
Thegirlturnsaround,andevenbehindthesunglasses,Luxcanfeelhereyestakingineverythingabouther:herredhair,thegroceriesinherarms,Nico’sblueplaidbutton-downthrownoverherbathingsuittop.
Thegirl’slipspurse,andthenshefacesNicoagain.
“So,Iguesswe’redone,then,”shesays,andhetiltshisheadback,lookingupatthesky.“We’vebeendone,Suz.”
“Right.”
Thegirlrestsahandonthemastbeforegoingtostepofftheboat,herwedgesandalssqueakingonthedeck.
Asshepassesheronthedock,Luxishitwithherscent,somethingfreshandclean,whichseemstohoveraroundherinamist.
“So,you’rethenewestproject,”shesays,andLuxismomentarilyspeechless.“He’sabigfanofprojects,”thegirlcontinues,andnowthere’ssomethinguglyinthecurlofhermouth,somethingdisdainful.“Goodluck.”
Withthat,she’sgoneinaswirlofherskirt,thatcloudofexpensiveperfume,leavingLuxholdingabagofwiltinglettuceandrapidlymeltingpistachioicecream.
LookingtoNico,sheraiseshereyebrows.“Wannafillmein?”
Hesighs,comingacrossthedecktotakethegroceriesoutofherhands.“It’snothing.”
“Didn’tseemlikenothing.”
“Wedatedforalittlebit,shewaspissedathowitended,guessshethoughtsheneededtotellmesoinperson.Again.”
LuxfollowsNicoontotheSusannah,thedeckswayinggently.“Afteramonth?”
WhenNicojustlooksatheroverhisshoulder,Luxtriestoignorethesuddencoldnessinthepitofherbelly.
“Imean,”shestarts,shovingherhandsinthebackpocketsofhershorts,“we’vebeentogetherforamonthnow.So,obviously,youtwobrokeupbeforethat.”
“Right,likeIsaid,”Nicocontinues,reachingoutwithonehandtoslideopenthedoortothecabin,“it’snothing.”
Luxfollowshimdownthestepsintothecabin,thelightdim,squintingasNicobeginsputtingthegroceriesaway.
HeleavesforMauiinaweek,maybetwo,andtheyhaven’ttalkedaboutwhatthatmeansforthem.It’snew,afterall,thisthing.Yeah,itgotreallyseriousreallyfast—Luxismoreorlesslivingonboardtheboatthesedays,whichisdefinitelyanimprovementoverhershittyshoeboxofanapartment—butmaybeNicohasalwaysjustseenthisasatemporaryarrangement.
Luxknowssheloveshim,eventhoughshehasn’tsaiditoutloudyet.There’sneverbeenanyonelikeNicobefore,notforher.Sure,she’sdatedotherguys,butitwasneverserious,neverthisallinfeelingshehaswithhim,likethey’rerealpartners.
Ateam.
Shethinkshemightloveher,too,butshekeepswaitingforthosemagicwords—cometoMauiwithme.Sofar,nothing.
Shethinksofthepersonsheusedtobe,thebravegirlwhothoughtshewastough,whodidn’tthinktheworldcouldtouchher—thepersonshewasbeforehermomdied.Thatgirlwouldhavejustcomerightoutandasked:Hey,canIcomewithyou?Sometimesshecanfeelthequestionpressingagainstthebackofherteeth,andapartofherbrainsaystojustgoforit,forfuck’ssake,sowhatifhesaysno?
ButthisotherLux—thisnewer,stillfragileLux—istooscaredofpoppingthebubbleshe’sbeenabletoliveinthepastmonth,andsoheresheis,just…waiting.
Suz.
NicohadcalledherSuz.
Leaningagainstthewall,Luxcrossesherarmsoverherchest.“WasthatSusannah?”sheasks.“Asin,thenamesakeofthisboat,Susannah?”
Nicostillhashisbacktoherasheputsbananasinthelittlemeshbaghangingoverthesink,andsheseeshisshouldersriseandfall.
“Yeah,thatwasher,”hesays,“butitwas—”
“Nothing,yeah,Iknow,”Luxrepliescurtly.
Turningaround,Nicobracesbothhandsonthesink.“Wedatedincollege,”hesays,lookingherintheeye.“Foracoupleofyears.Wewereyoungandstupid,butweweretogetherwhenIgottheboat,andInameditafterherbecauseI’maromanticdude.Asyouwellknow.”
Hegivesheralittlegrinatthat,theonethatmakeshisdimplesdeepen,andeventhoughshehatesherselfforit,Luxfeelsalittleofherangerdrainaway.
Nicoisgoodatthat.
Steppingforwardnow,hetakesherhandsinhis,liftingonetokissherknuckles.“Wantmetorenameit?”heasks.“TheLux?TheSSMcAllister?”
Rollinghereyes,Luxletshimpullherin,hisarmsgoingeasilyaroundherwaist.“Maybe,”shesays,andhegrinsagainasheleansintokissthetipofhernose.
“Or,betteryet,howaboutyoucomewithmetoMauiinaweek?”
Lux’sheartleaps.
Thereitis,thequestionshe’sbeenwaitingfor.Sheknowsshe’sgoingtosayyes,butthere’sstillsomethingdarkhoveringaroundtheedgesofherjoy.Whydidhehavetoaskhernow,whenshestillfeelslikethere’ssomethinghe’snottellingheraboutSusannah?
Shethinksagainaboutthegirl’stears,abouthersnarlinglip.
So,you’rehisnewestproject.
Whatdoesthatevenmean?Andwhywouldagirlhe’dbrokenupwithmonthsagobeherecryingonhisboat,stillsohurt,soangry?
Nicokissesherthen,softly,quickly.“You’rethinkingsohard,”hesays,reachinguptopushherhairbackfromherface.
“Ijust…”shestarts,butshedoesn’twanttofinishthatsentence,doesn’twanttobringupSusannahagain.
Shedoesn’twantanswerssheknowsshewon’tlike.
Don’tbestupid.Lifeisshort.There’snothinghereforyou.GotoMaui.
Soshedoes.
NOW
EIGHT
Weseetheislandafulldaybeforewe’llbeabletoreachit.
It’svisibleinthedistance,lookinglikenothingmorethanapileofcloudsatfirst,allsmudgedandvaguelygray-ish,butwithinafewhours,Icanseespotsofgreen,andmyheartthumpsagainstmyribsasIstandatthebow,fingerscurledaroundtheguideline.
Suddenly,thistripmakesalittlemoresense.WhyBrittanyandAmmawantedtocomehere,whyNicoloveslifeonthewatersomuch.Itfeelslikemagic,chartingacoursetoaplace,thenwatchingitslowlymaterializeinfrontofyou.
Brittanyappearsbesideme,herlonghairpulledbackfromherface,andshereachesdowntosqueezemyhand.“Whatareyougoingtodofirst?”sheasks.“Afterwe’veanchored?”
Ilaugh,shakingmyhead.“Noidea.Amusicalnumber,maybe?Accompaniedbysomecrabsandtropicalbirds?”
Thatmakesherlaugh,too,andshegivesmyhandanothersqueeze.“Perfect.Nico?”
Shecallsbacktohim,andfromhisspotatthewheel,heleansoverslightly,cuppingonehandaroundanear.“What?”
“Shewantstoknowwhatyou’regoingtodofirst!”Icallback.“Whenwegettotheisland!”
Hisexpressionshifts,thatblindinggrinflashingacrosshisface.“Haven’tdecidedyet.Nudityfeelsprettyhighupthere.”
Thestormthrewme,would’vethrownanyone,butnowthingsarebackontrack.We’resafe,ourdestinationisinfrontofus,andtwoweeksofdoingabsolutelynothing—notcleaninghotelrooms,notscrubbingasink,notwaitingmyturntousetheshowerinamildewedbathroom—stretchoutlikeafuckingredcarpet.
Ican’twait.
HOURSLATER,WE’RETHERE,ANDastheSusannahmakesherwaytotheisland’snaturalharbor,Istareattheshoreinfrontofus.It’snotlikebeautyisanythingnewtome—I’vebeenlivinginHawaiiforthepastsixmonths,afterall.Butthere’ssomethingdifferentaboutMeroe,somethingwilder.Itlookslikeakid’sdrawingofadesertedisland,alltallpalmtreesandsandyshore,thewaterandskycontrastingbutequallybrilliantshadesofblue.
Wehavetomotorinbecauseofthecurrents,andasourboatchugsoveraswelltoentertheharbor,thepushisstrongenoughthat,forasecond,itfeelsliketheboatismovingbackward.Liketheislandispushingusaway.
Atthewheel,Nico’sexpressionissteely,hishandsgrippingtightly,andIwonderifhefeltit,too.Probablynot.Likehesaid,Nicoisn’tsuperstitious.ButIcatchAmmafrowningaswefinallyglideintotheharbor.
AndthenIseeit.
LikeItoldBrittanybackinMaui,boatsarenotmything.I’veseenallkindsandhaveneverbeenallthatimpressedbyanyofthem.
Butthisboatisverydifferent.
She’sacatamaran,welloverfortyfeet,glossywhiteagainstallthatblue-green,hersailanevendeeper,clearerbluethanthesky.Fitting,becausethat’shername,stenciledontheside.
AzureSky.
Lookingather,IfeelthesamewayIdidthefirsttimeIsawNico.Liketheworldhassuddenlygottenalittlebitbigger.
“Fuckme.”IhearAmmabreatheatmyside,andshescowlsattheship.
SheandBrittanyhadbeentryingtodosomethingotherthantheusualtouristthingbycominghere.Thefactthatotherpeoplehavealreadyfoundtheisland—beatenthemtoit—isclearlybuggingAmma.
Nicohaskilledtheengine,lettingtheSusannahrestidlyonthesmooth,clearwaterashelooksoverattheAzureSky
“Whatabeauty,”hesayswithanappreciativesmile.
ButAmmaisalreadyturningtoBrittany,herexpressionstormy.“Ithoughtnooneevercamehere.”
Brittanyjustshrugs,pushinghersunglassesupontoherhead.“Ithoughtso,too,but,Imean,it’sthetwenty-firstcentury.Ifwecanfindthings,socanotherpeople.It’snotreallythatweirdthatsomeoneelseishere.”
Ammadoesn’tseemsatisfiedbythatresponse,herfrownonlydeepening,butthensomeonestepsoutontothedeckofthecatamaran.
Evenfromadistance,Icantellhe’srich.WorkingattheresortsinMauigavemeakindofsixthsensewhenitcametothetype.Hishairwasprobablyoncebrown,buthe’sbeenoutsideenoughtogiveitthatsun-streakedlookwomenpayalotofmoneyfor.Aviatorsunglasses,mirrored,reflecttheblue,bluewater,andheflashesamillion-dollarsmileasheliftsanarmtowavetous
“Ahoy!”hecallsout,andIcanpracticallyfeelNicorollhiseyesbehindme.Still,hewavesbackattheguy,justasawomanmakesherwayupontothedecktojoinhim.
She’salsoblond,hairwhippinginherfaceassheleansovertherailingtogazeoutatus.She’swearingcutoffsthatrideuphertanthighs,andanoversizedbutton-downthatprobablybelongstotheguy.Sun-kissedandbeautiful,theylooklikeanadforhardseltzer,andIfeelgrubbyinmyownloose-fittingshortsandanoldV-neck.
Besideme,Amma’shandshaveclenchedintofistsasshestaresatthecouple.Herlipsareathinline,whitearoundtheedges,andwhenInudgeherwithmyelbow,shestartleslikeshe’dforgottenIwasthere.
“Youokay?”Iask.
“Relax,”Brittanysaystoherfriend.“Themorethemerrier!”
“That’snotit,”Ammasaysquietly.Bynow,themanisclimbingintothesmalldinghyattachedtothesideofthecatamaran,clearlyplanningtocomeoverandsayhelloinperson.
“Bettheyhavesomequalityboozeonthatboat,”Nicomuttersinmyearasheslingsanarmaroundmywaist.Hesmellslikesweatandsunblock,andtheskinonhisnoseispeelingjustthelittlestbit.Idon’tevenwanttoknowhowIlook.Acrustofsalthassettledonmyskin,andIknowmyhairisawreck.
Thetenderidlesnexttous,theguystillgrinning.“Welcometoparadise!”hecalls,andIrealizehe’sAustralian.
Ofcourseheis.
“Hey,thanks,man,”Nicosays,andtheguygesturesatthesideoftheSusannah
“Permissiontoboard?”
“Aye-aye,”Nicoreplies,andwithinacoupleofminutes,theguyisstandingthereonthedeckofourboat,somehowmakingitfeeldingierwithhisowngeneralshininess.
“JakeKelly,”hesays,offeringahandtoNico,whoshakesitbeforeintroducingallofus.
“So,whatbringsyouallthewayouthere?”Jakeaskswarmly.Closeup,he’sevenbetterlookingthanI’dassumed.Amazingwhatmoneycando,theglossitcangiveyou.
“Samethingthatbroughtyouhere,I’dguess,”Nicosays.Inoticethewayheflexeshisbicepsjustthelittlestbit.HisarmshaveadarkertanandaredefinitelybiggerthanJake’s,andIfighttheurgetorollmyeyes.
Boys.
“Oh,soyou’realsoherelookingforburiedtreasure?”Jakereplies,hiseyebrowsraisedovertheframesofhissunglasses,beforelaughingandclappingahandonNico’sshoulder.“Fuckingwithyou,mate.We’rejusthereforagoodtimeoffthebeatenpath.”
“Same,”Brittanysays,steppingforward.She’schangedintoabrightlypatternedpink-and-greenbikini,andIseeJakegiveheranadmiringlookthatsomehowisn’tsleazy,aquickhead-to-toeglancethatdoesn’tmakeyoufeellikeyouneedashowerafterward.
Brittany’ssmilegetsalittleslyer,onehipcockedasshenodsherheadinthedirectionofhisboat.
“Haveyouandyourwifebeenherelong?”
Subtle.
Jakeglancesoverhisshoulder.“Girlfriend,”hecorrects.“Eliza.Andno,justacoupleofdays.You’reluckyyougotinwhenyoudid.Hadsomeuglyweatherthedaywearrived.”
Nicobrightens,launchingintoastoryaboutthestormwewerecaughtin—probablythesamenastyweatherJakementioned—andboredbythisobviousshowofmachismo,Iheadforthesterntogetabetterlookattheisland.
Ammaisalreadystandingthere,armsfoldedtightlyaroundherbody,andasIgetcloser,Irealizetherearetwintracksoftearsonhercheeks.
Alarmed,Ireachoutandlayahandonherarm.“Youokay?”
Shestartles,andreachesuptoswipeatherdampcheeks.“Yeah,sorry.Just…guessIgotkindofoverwhelmed,youknow?Thatwe’refinallyhere,butalsoit’sthebeginningoftheend.”
Idefinitelygetfeelingthatwayattheendofavacation—wantingtosoakinwhatyoucanevenasyou’realreadyanticipatingtheimpendingreturntoreality.Butitseemsalittleweirdtocrywhenatriplikethisisjustbeginning.
ButAmmaisalittleweird.Brittanyiseasiertobearound,notnearlyasprickly.Onceagain,Iwonderhowtheybecamefriends,whatkeepsthemtogetherwhentheyactuallyseemprettydifferent.
Instead,IsmileatAmmaandnodtowardtheisland.“Thinkofitasthebeginningofthebeginning,”Isay.“Thebeginningoftwoweeksinthisamazingplacewithnoonearound.”
“Nooneexceptthosetwo,”Ammawhispersquickly,asJakeapproachesus.
“So,Nicoheresaysyourgroupmightbeamenabletoabeachpartytonight?”
Ammastiffens,andIworryshe’sgoingtosayno.Butthenaswitchseemstoflip,andshegivesJakeamillion-wattsmile,soconvincingthatforamoment,IwonderifIimaginedherearlierdiscomfort.“Wouldn’tmissitfortheworld.”
NINE
Ittakesusalittlebittogetthingssituated.Nicowantstofindtheperfectspottoanchor,somewherecloseenoughtoshorethatwecaneasilyswimtothebeach,butnotsoshallowthatwe’rescrapingthehull.WeeventuallyanchorjustafewyardsfromtheAzureSky,thewateraroundussoclearthatIcanseeallthewaytothesandybottom.
Bythetimewe’redone,JakeandElizahavealreadytakentheirdinghy—ifthespiffyZodiaccanbecalledthat—overtothebeach.
Ourowndinghyisstillaffixedtothestarboardsideoftheboat,butwe’reanchoredcloseenoughtoshorethatIjuststripofftheT-shirtandshortsI’mwearingovermybathingsuitandjumpovertheside,optingtoswimtotheislandinstead.
Warmwaterclosesovermyhead,andmysunburnedskinstingsfromthesalt,butwhenIbreakthesurface,I’mgrinningsohardmyfacehurts.Eventhoughmyeyessmart,theislandinfrontofmeisthemostbeautifulthingI’veeverseen,prettierthanadream,betterthananyofthefantasiesIspunupinMom’shospitalroomwhenallIwantedwastoruntotheendsoftheearth.
Ihearasplashtomyright,andthenBrittany’sheadbobsupnexttome,followedbyAmma’s,thenNico’s,allofusbeaming.IfeelapleasantacheinmymusclesasIstarttoswim.Forafewdays,we’vebeencoopedup,andgettingtostretchoutlikethisfeelsevenbetterthanIexpected.
IrememberNicowarningusaboutsharksaroundtheisland,butnoteventhatcankillmybuzzasIpumpmyarmsandlegs,makingmywaytowardtheshimmeringbeach.Itonlytakesafewminutes,thenmytoestouchthesandybottom,andI’mthere.
MeroeIsland.
It’saprettyname,melodicwhenyousayitoutloud,makingiteasytoforgetthatit’snamedafterashipwreck.
Afterallthewrongturns,Ifinallytookonethatbroughtmetoareal,live,desertedisland,somehonest-to-godBlueLagoon–typeshit.
It’salreadylateafternoon,thelightturninggoldenandsoft.Theshorecurvesawayintothedistance,andbeyonditiswhatlookslikeanearlyimpenetrablejungleofpalmsandothergreenery.
Slickingmywethairbackfrommyface,Igestureatthejungle.“IthinktheairstripNicotalkedaboutissomewherethroughthere.Ifweeverwanttocheckitout.”
“Ohyeah,veryhighonmylistofpriorities,”Ammareplies,andthebiteinherwordsirksme.She’sclearlystillpissedaboutJakeandEliza.
ButI’musedtohandlingnegativity.Ishrugandsay,“Youneverknow.Afteraweek,youmightgetboredofwatchingperfectsunsetsandswimminginturquoiseseas.Ithappens.”
Nicogivesamockgrowlashechargesme,hisarmsgoingaroundmywaist,liftingmeoffmyfeetasIshriek.“Orwecouldplaypirates,”heteases,swingingmearound.“Capturingthatbooty.”
Rollingmyeyes,Ipullmyselfoutofhisarms,stillsmiling.“Iactuallycan’tbelieveit’stakenyouthislonginourrelationshiptomakethatjoke.”
Upaheadonthebeach,Jakehassetuparingofstones,fillingitwithbranchesanddriedpalmleaves,andasIapproach,hepusheshissunglassesuphisnoseandgrinsatme.
“Isabonfireonthebeachtooclichéforthefirstnight?”
Ismileback,shakingmyhead.“Justtherightamountofcliché.”
“KnewIlikedyou.Eliza,comemeetLux.”
I’mactuallyalittlesurprisedherememberedmyname.It’sunusualenoughthatmostpeopleneedreminding,ortheycallmeLiz,Lucy,Lex—somethingclose,butnotquiteright.ThefactthatJakeclockeditsofastmakesmelikehimmore
Elizaopensherarmstohugme.“Ournewroommate!”shesays,laughingasshesqueezesme.I’mveryawarethatI’msaltyanddampwhileshesmellsamazing—likethisperfumeIoncesmelledinaguest’sroomcalledCaliforniaReverie.I’devenspritzedsomeonmywrists,walkingaroundtherestofthedaytakingsurreptitioussniffsofmyskin.Ithadmademefeellikeatotallydifferentwoman.
“Island-mate,”Ijoke,andshelaughsgenerouslyeventhoughit’sdefinitelynotthatfunny.
“Honestly,I’mjustthrilledyou’rehere.Ilovethisbastard,buttheideaofseveralweeksalonewithhimonanislandwastoobleaktocontemplate.”
HeraccentispureBBC,vowelsrich,consonantsclipped,andwhenshereachesuptopushherhairbackfromherface,diamondstudssparkleinherears.
“Yes,yourarrivalhasprobablysavedmefromalate-nightcastration,andforthat,youdeserveabeer,”Jakesays.
Iwonderiftheyalwaystalklikethis,eachsentenceatennisballlobbed,firingbackandforthwiththeeaseofsharp,smartpeoplewhoknoweachotherwell.
Jakeopensagiantcoolerandpullsoutabeer,andwhenhehandsittome,Iactuallygaspathowcolditis.Wehaveafridgeontheboat,butNicosaidicewasaneedlessextravagance,soprettymucheverythingwe’vehadtodrinkhasbeenlukewarm.AndIhaven’thadabeersinceweleftthemainland—nodrinkingontheopenseaandallthat.
“Yourfellatellsmeyou’reoutofHawaii?”heasks.
“Maui,yeah,”Ireply,takingasipandclosingmyeyesathowgood,howrefreshing,thebeeris.“Well,SanDiegoformeoriginally,butwe’vebeeninHawaiiforafewmonths.”
“WewerethinkingofHawaiiafterthis,”Elizasays,wrappingbotharmsaroundJake’swaist,herfingerscurledaroundthewristofheroppositehand.Hehasanarmcasuallydrapedacrosshershoulders,hisotherhandholdinghisownbeer.“Jake’sbeenloadsoftimes,butIneverhave.”
“It’sbeautiful,”Itellher,andshegesturestooursurroundings.
“Asbeautifulasthis?”
Ilookbackoutattheseaagain,athowtheclearaquableedsintodarkerbluefartherout,contrastingwiththebrightsapphireofthesky.
“Idon’tknowifanyplaceisasbeautifulasthis,”Isay,andImeanit.
Nicojoinsus,Brittanytrailingjustbehind.
“Bonfire,nice,”hesaysapprovinglytoJake,whointroduceshimtoEliza,whogivesNicothesamewarmhug,thesamebrightsmile.
“I’llgogetdinner,shallI?”Elizalooksatourgroupovertherimsofhersunglasses.“You’lleatwithus,right?Apropercelebration?”
GiventhatourplansfortonightwereSpamandrice,Inod,maybealittletooeagerly.
ShegivesJakeaquickkissbeforeheadingfortheZodiac,whichthey’vedraggedontothesand.
“Needsomehelp?”Brittanyasks,andElizabeckonswithonearm.
“Wouldn’tsayno!”
Ammawatchesquietly,stillstandingintheshallows,herarmscrossed.ButthenNicoistakingabeerfromJake,andwe’relightingthefire,andIdon’thavetimetowonderwhatherdealis.
WHENELIZAHADOFFEREDUSdinner,Ihadn’tbeenexpectingafeast.
Grilledfish;oysters,coldandbriny;roastedpotatoes;delicatespearsofasparaguswrappedinbacon;andadessertthatappearstobemadeofstrawberriesandwhateveritisthatactualangelseat.
Ihaven’teatenthiswellinmonths,notsincecomingtoMaui,really,andElizajustkeepsflittingaround,offeringmore,openingsomenewcontainerfullofsomenewdelightandconstantlyinsistingthatwetakesome,thattheybroughttoomuch,thatshegets“overlyexcited”inthekitchen.
Andthewine…
Bottlesandbottles,justascoldandcrispasthebeer,andbythetimethesunhassetandit’sgrowndarkontheisland,I’mfullanddrunk,andbeyondhappy.
I’mcontent.
It’sasensationIhaven’tfeltinawhile.Years,maybe.
Jakestands,poppingopenabottleofchampagne.Weallgiveadrunkenshoutwhenitfrothsfromtheneckofthebottle,asJakesloppilyfillsourglasses.
Onceweallhavesomechampagne,hestandsbythefire,shirthalf-unbuttoned,hairmussed,andliftshisglass.“ToMeroeIsland,”heintones,andweallraiseourdrinks.“Tothoseunfortunatefuckerswhocrashedanddiedhere—”
“Boooo!”Elizasays,reachingoutwithonelonglegtokickhisshin.“Nosadshit!”
Jakecatchesherankleeasily,pullingherlegupand,inasurprisinglygracefulmovegivenhowmuchhe’shadtodrink,leansdowntopressakissagainstthetopofherfoot,theireyesmeetinginawaythatmakesmycheekssuddenlyflushhot.
“Mybelovedisright,”hesays,lettingherfootfallbacktothesand.“Nosadshit.Onlyjubilationfornewfriends,andahellofafirstnighttogether.”
Weallcheerstothat.
Allofus,exceptforAmma.
BEFORE
Romeisbetter.
Maybeit’stheheat,orthebustleofthebusystreets.Thefactthatthey’rewalkingsomucheverydaythatthey’reexhaustedwhentheyfallintotheirbedsatnight.Oritcouldbethatthistime,theyweresmarter,andpickedahostelrightinthemiddleofthings,notfarfromtheSpanishSteps,andthenightsarenevertooquiet.
Oritcouldjustbethatthefoodisso,sogood.
Aftertheaccident,duringthosefirstfewblackmonths(inthebefore),Brittanyhadn’twantedtoeatanything.Hadbarelybeenableto,andwhatshedideathadnotaste,andsatheavyonhertongueuntilsheinvariablyspititoutorthrewitup.Herweightdropped,hereyessankdeeperintoherface,andtheshapeofherskullemergedbeneathherthinninghair.She’dtakenaperversecomfortinwatchingherselfalmostdisappear,fadingintothebackground.Itfelteasierthangoingforwardandtryingtoliveinthisnewworld.
Nowwhenshelooksinthemirror,she’sstilltoothin,butit’snotasscaryanymore,andyesterday,whenshetookherfirstbiteofbasilgelatointhePiazzaNavona,ithadexplodedonhertongue,creamyandrich,brightandfresh,andshe’dfeltlikemaybeshewasgettingbetter.Maybelifewouldn’talwaysfeelsohard,sopointless.
Shefeelsthatwaynow,sittingatacaféwithAmma,thesunshinehotonherbareshouldersastheysipcappuccinosandAmmascrollsthroughthepicturesonherphone.
“Thisoneisgood,”shesays,holdingitupforBrittanytosee.
It’softhetwooftheminfrontoftheColosseum,anditisgood.They’resmiling,armsaroundeachother,andBrittanythinksthatifyousawthatpictureinadormroomoronafridge,you’dthink,Thosegirlsaresolucky.
Nopity,noconcern.Twopretty,happyfriends,makingthemostoftheiryouthandtravelingtheworldtogether.
Everydayofthistrip,shefeelsalittleclosertoactuallybeingthatgirl,theoneshe’spretendingtobe.
“Sendthatonetome,”shesaystoAmma,andassoonasthetextcomesthrough,shesetsitasherphonebackground.
Fourweeksago,beforetheyleftforEurope,thebackgroundwasapictureofherfamily.Allfourofthem,hermomanddad,andheryoungerbrother,Brian.Smilingwiththesettingsunbehindthem,theirfacesalittlesunburnedbecausetheyhadbeenontheirannualbeachtriptoFlorida.
Thelastvacationthey’dtaken.
Brittanyusedtolookatthatpictureonherphoneandwonderifitwould’vebeenbetterifshe’dknownitwouldbethelasttime.ShehadfoughtwithBrian,who’dbroughthisPlayStationwithhimandspenthoursscreamingintohisheadset,thosepiercingwhoopsandbattlecriesthatdroveherinsane.Therehadbeentoomanyslammingdoorsonthattrip,andonthelastnight,Brittanysatonherbed,playingonherphone,andtoldhermomjusttobringsomethingbackfromdinner,becauseshedidn’tfeellikegoingout.
Hermomhadbeendisappointed,buthadagreed.
ThatwasthethingthatstillkilledBrittanytoremember,thewaythecornersofhermother’smouthhadturneddown,thesoftsighasshe’dclosedBrittany’sdoor,herdarkhairswingingjustabovehershouldersasshe’dturnedaway.
Aftertheaccident,Brittanyreplayedthatsighoverandoverinhermind,justlikeshecataloguedeverymissedandneverreturnedphonecall,everytimeshehadn’trepliedtoalikeoracommentonaFacebookpost.
Sometimesshehatesthatpastversionofherselfsomuchshewantstocrawloutofherownskin.
Butdoingthis,replacingthebackgroundonherphone,helpsalittle.Itmakesherfeellikeshe’sstartingtobuildthatnew,futureselfthatDr.Aminkeepstellingherabout.
Shelooksatthosesmilinggirls,andshealmostbelievesshe’soneofthem.
BUTTHECRYINGSTARTSAGAINontheirfifthnightinRome.
Itshocksheratfirst,thesobsthatseemtowellupinherchestoutofnowhere,thesuddenacheinherthroat.Thatpanickyfeeling,herfacetoohot,hereyesstinging,herwholebodyshakingasshetriessohardtopushthetearsaway.
IthoughtIwasgettingbetter,andthewordsarepitifuleveninthesilenceofherownmind.Ithoughtthiswasover.
Butshe’sbeginningtorealizethereisn’tanover,notreally.Thewavescanjustkeeponcominglikethis,andthere’snothingshecandotostopthem.
Ammadoesn’tcrossthespacebetweentheirbedsthistime,doesn’tmakethosesoothingnoisesthatBrittanysimultaneouslyhatesandappreciates,soBrittanystayscurledupintoherselflikeawoundedanimal,waitingforthesuntorise.
Onceitdoes,theygobackout,walkthestreets,duckintoshops,eatmoreoverpricedpasta,andit’sonlyastheskyturnstodusk,astheysitatanotheroutdoorcafé,thatBrittanyuttersthewordsthathavebeenonthetipofhertongueallday.
“Maybeweshouldgohome.”
SheknowsAmmaisthinkingit,too:thatthey’vehadtheirmomentsoffun,butthisisn’ttheescapetheywereafter.Except,maybeitis,forAmma?Brittanycanneverreallytell.Shelovestheothergirl,loveshermoredearlythanshe’severlovedanyfriend,butoverandoveragain,she’sremindedthattheyonlyhavethisoneawfulthingincommon,andnothingelse.Shedoesn’treallyknowwhatAmmaislike,regularAmma,in-the-beforeAmma.Shecouldbesuffering,too—justbetterathidingit.
Now,shelooksacrossthetableatBrittanyandgivesalittleshrug.“Maybeweshould.Mymoneyisgettingtight,andatleastwegottoseeParisandwe’vehadnearlyaweekhereinRome.That’snotnothing.”
It’strue.Brittanyhadalwaysdreamedofvisitingbothcities,hadhungaposteroftheEiffelTowerinherdormroom,forfuck’ssake,andnowshe’salsotastedgelatointheshadowoftheColosseum.Maybeit’senough.
Shestirshercappuccino,glancesoveratthetableofpeoplenexttoher,raggedybackpacksbytheirfeet.They’realittlesunburned,theirclotheswrinkledanddullinthewaythingsgetwhenthey’rerepeatedlycleanedinhostelsinksandneverdrycompletely.Oneofthegirlsleansdowntounbucklehersandal,laughingwhenthestrapsfallawaytorevealstripesofpaleskinamongstalayerofdust.Brittany’saccumulatedthatdust,too,walkingthroughRome,andshewishesshehadthatgirl’seasylaugh,wishesallofthiswasn’tsofuckinghardforherforsomereason.
Andthensherealizesthegirlisstaringdirectlyather,hersheafofstrawberry-blondhairpushedbehindoneearasshegrinsandwavesatBrittany.
Brittanynodsback,buttohersurprise,thegirlactuallygetsupfromherseat,crossingthecrowdedlittlecafétocomeovertotheirtable.
“Hiya!”shesaysbrightly,andthenshe’sofferingherhand,afaded,frayingstringbraceletaroundoneslenderwrist.“I’mChloe.”
Asmallmoment.Butthat’showitstarts.
DearMama/Pop/Sis:GreetingsfromParadise!Meandtheboyslandedarealsweetassignmentandfindourselveson[CENSORED].It’ssopretty,Iwishyouallcouldseeit.LikethatbookImadePopreadeverynightwhenIwastwelve,RobinsonCrusoe.Therearepalmtreeseverywhere,coconuts,too.Oneofthefellas,[CENSORED],evenmadeapetoutofamonkey!WecallhimBarnum,and[CENSORED]trainedhimtotakepeanutsrightoutofourhands.Itreallypassesthetime,butitmakesmemisshomeandShepevenmore.Hestilldoinggood?Iknowhe’sgettingold,buttellhimhe’sgottahangontilwe’redonewhoopingtheseguys!Today,Iwentforawalkbymyselfforabitjusttogetsomequiet,andeventhoughtheguyssaythisplaceisspooky,Ithinkit’speaceful.Iguessthere’ssomestoryabouta[CENSORED]herebackin[CENSORED]wheresomeguysendedupkillingeachotherforfood,butluckily,wegotawholeboxofsupplies,sothingsshouldn’tgetthatbadforus.Andlookingoutatallthatoceanmakesmethinkofbeingbackhome,seeingcornfieldsallthewaytothehorizon.Imissyouall,butgettingtoseetheworldlikethiscountsforsomething.Youreallygetthateveryplaceisthesameinaway.Theguyssayit’sboringhere,butItellthemtheyshouldcometoourfarminthewinter,seehowquietitgets!Sono,Idon’tmindbeingouthereon[CENSORED].It’snotabadplace,justalonelyone,andthere’snothingwrongwiththat.Willwriteagainsoon.Yourson/brother,L.—LETTERHOMEFROMPFCLEONARDAMES(1923–MIA1943,DECLAREDDEAD1950)NOW
TEN
“Whatdoyouthinktheirdealis?”
Lastnighthadbeenfun.Almosttoomuchfun,ifmydrymouthandachingheadareanyindication.Despitethehangover,allIcanthinkaboutthismorningisallthatfood,allthatwine.ThediamondsinEliza’sears.
“JakeandEliza?”Brittanyasksnow,andInod.WetookthedinghyovertothebeachwithAmma,whileNicostayedbehindontheboat.
Brittanyshrugs.“They’rerich,obviously,”shesays.“Buttheyseemcool.Andlaid-back.WhichiskindofsurprisingbecauseIassumedmostrichpeoplewereuptight.”
Soitisn’thermoneyfundingthistrip.I’dwondered,becauseifthey’rewillingtohandNico$50,000,moneyisclearlycomingfromsomewhere.Andthey’vebeentravelingfor,what?Monthsnow?
Brittanyflashesmeasmile.“Butthenagain,Idon’treallyknowany.Doyou?”
Nico.
Wedon’treallytalkaboutNico’sfamily,thelifeheledbeforehechuckeditalltogosailing.AndNiconeverreallyactslikearichperson.Buteveryonceinawhile,I’mremindedthatheandIgrewupverydifferently.
Once,he’dcometopickmeupfromworkattheHaleakala,drivinguptothefrontofthehotelratherthanthebackentrance,andeventhoughhe’dbeenwearinghisusualshortsandrippedT-shirt,thevalethadimmediatelyassumedhewasaguest.Nicohadtoldmeaboutitlater,laughing,butI’dwonderedwhatitwasabouthimthatexudedthataurathathebelonged.
OrmaybeIwasoverthinkingit.
Ammasnorts.“Richpeoplearejustpeople,”shesays.“Somearecool,someareassholes.”
She’swearingasimpleblackbikinithatemphasizesthepalesmoothnessofherskin,andshe’snotquiteastenseassheseemedyesterday.Butshe’sstillinamood,clearly.
“That’strue,”Itellher.“WhenIworkedattheHaleakala,wesawalltypes,trustme.”
Ammagivesmeasmile.“Youmusthaveseensomefucked-upshit,workingataresortlikethat.”
“Oh,youwouldnotevenbelieve,”Iassureher,andthenIlaunchintothesextoystory.BythetimeI’mdone,allthreeofusarelaughing,thesoundechoingloudlyalongtheemptystretchofbeach.
Irealizeagainjusthowquietitishere.Lastnight,I’dlainonourcushionedtableandlistenedtothesurfcrashingagainsttheshoreinthedistance.Thatsound,thatconstantmurmurinthebackground,hadbeenthereinHawaii,too,ofcourse,butneverthisclose.Besides—outhere,therearenoothersoundsvyingforyourattention.Notraffic,novoices,nomusic.Justthewindandthesurf,thecallofbirds,thegentlecreakingofthepalmtrees.
Nexttome,Brittanybumpsmyhipwithhers.“Thisiseverythingwepromised,right?”
Ilookoutatthebrightturquoisesea,stretchingoutineverydirection,andnod.“Andmore,”Iassureher,reachingouttotakeherhandandsqueezeit.It’sthekindofeasilyaffectionatethingIusedtodowithgirlsbackhome.Ihadn’trealizedhowmuchImissedhavingfemalefriends.
Brittanysqueezesback,andevenAmmaseemsrelaxedaswewalkalongthebeachuntilwereachtheblanketwhereElizaandJakearestretchedout.
Elizaisonherstomach,hercheekrestingonherfoldedarms,herbackbare,whileJakehasatowelbunchedupbehindhishead,apaperbackinonehand.Thepagesandthecoverarecurlingup,waterlogged,nodoubt,andIcan’tmakeoutthetitle.
Heliftshisheadslightlyasweapproach,alreadysmiling.
“G’day,neighbors,”hesayscheerfullyasElizaliftshercheekfromherarms
“Whatareyouthreeupto?”sheasks,rollingover.
I’mnotaprude,notbyanymeans,butit’sstillalittlestartlinghowcasualsheisbeingtoplessinfrontofus,andI’mgladIhavemysunglassesonsothatIdon’thavetoworryaboutwheremyeyesland.
“Justdoingalittleexploring,”Ianswer.
“There’sagreatswimmingspotjustaroundthisbend,”Jakesays,proppinghimselfupononeelbowandpointingfartherdownthebeach.“Icanshowyou—”
“That’sokay,”Ammasaysquickly,andlinksherarmthroughmine.“Youguysenjoyyourmorning.”
Shebeginstuggingmedownthebeach,andBrittanycallsafterus,“I’llcatchupinafew!”
SheturnsbacktoJakeandEliza,drawingapatterninthesandwithonetoe,andonlyoncewe’reoutofearshotdoIaskAmma,“Doyouwanttotellmewhatthatwasabout?”
“Whatwaswhatabout?”
Istop,lookingathereventhoughallIcanreallyseeismyfacereflectedinhersunglasses.“Yourattitudearoundthem.DoyounotlikeElizaandJake?”
Shesighs,pushingherhairbehindherearsandturningtolookoutattheoceanforasecond.“It’snotthat.It’sjust…”Shegivesanuncomfortableshrug.“Brittanybasicallyloveseveryoneshemeetsrightfromthejump,andIliketotakealittlemoretime,youknow?Easein.”
“Ah,soyou’rethecatandshe’sthegoldenretriever,”Isay,andshegivesastartledburstoflaughter.
“What?”
“Infriendshipsorrelationships,usuallyonepersonisthecat—guarded,alittlestandoffish—someonewhereyouhavetoworkforit.Andthentheotherpersonisthegoldenretriever.Lovesimmediatelyandcompletely.”
“Licksfaces?Humpsthings?”Ammaasks,grinning,andIlookbackdownthebeachtowhereIcanjustmakeoutBrittanystillstandingtherewithElizaandJake.
“Doesn’tlooklikeit’sgottenthatfaryet,”Isay,andAmmalaughsagain.
“So,Itakeityou’realsoacat.”
“Mm-hmm,”Isay,nodding.“AndNicowasaborngoldenretriever.”Nowit’smyturntoshrug.“It’swhywework.”
Ammanods,shadinghereyes.“Icanseethat.IwassayingtoBrittanytheothernightthatyoutwoaresuchcouplegoals.”
Thethoughtgivesmealittlerushofpleasure.I’veneverreallygottentoseemeandNicothroughanyoneelse’seyes,andI’msuddenlycurioustolearneverythingAmmathinksofus.
“Youthinkso?”
“Oh,totally,”shereplies,pushinghersunglassesbackuphernose.Herskinisalreadystartingtobrownalittle,hershouldersgolden.Mine,Iknow,arealreadyturningpinkdespitethelayerofhigh-SPFIslatheredonearlier.“LivinginHawaii,travelingtheworldtogether…that’sthedream,right?”
Ammasmileswhenshesaysit,butthere’ssomethingalittlesadinit,andwhenshelooksbackoutatthewater,shesays,“MyboyfriendandIweregoingtodoEuropelikethat.MaybemoveonfromtheretoAsia.Hemust’veboughteverytravelguidehecouldfind.Evengotmeoneofthoseawfulmoneybeltsformybirthday.Youknow,thekindthatstraparoundyourwaist?”Shegesturestoherflatstomach,andInod.
“ItoldhimI’ddiebeforeI’dwearthat,buthonestly,itwaskindofsweet,howexcitedhewas.Howprepared.”
Shelaughsalittle,shakingherhead,andthenpressesherlipstogether,herchinwobblingslightly.
“Didyou…breakup?”Iask,gentlybecauseIfeellikewe’reclearlystrayingintosensitiveterritory.
Amma’shandreachesuptobrushathercheek.“Basically,”shesays,thenshakesherheadagain.“Anyway,itwasprobablyastupidideaanyway,andnowIgettotravelwithBrittany,whichissomuchbetter.”
Ammaflashesmeabrightsmile,andIsmilebackeventhoughIcanstillseethetrackonhercheekwhereatearslippedout
Andthen,beforeIcanaskmore,she’swalkingdownthebeach,gesturingformetofollowher.
WeonlygoafewmoreyardsbeforewefindtheplaceJakemusthavebeentalkingabout.It’slikethelagoonwheretheboatsareanchored,butmuchsmaller,acovesurroundedonthreesidesbysand,andwedon’tevenpausebeforedivingintothewater.
WhenIbreakbackthroughthesurface,Ammalaughs,splashingmewithonehand.
“YoujustwentfullLittleMermaid,”sheteases,mimingthrowingbackherhair.Ismileandletmyselffloatonmyback.Theskyisasblueasitwasyesterday,withonlyafewfat,puffycloudslazilymovingacrossit.
PeacebeginssettlingovermeinawayIhaven’texperiencedsinceMomdied.Forthefirsttimeinyears,I’mnotworriedabout…anything.Notmoneyorcancer,schoolorNico.Icanjustfloatrighthere,literally,intheperfectpresent.Iknowitcan’tlast—thissortoftranquilityismeanttobetemporary,andI’velearnedthehardwaythatit’ssmartertoalwaysthinkaboutthatnextbendintheroad,alwaysbepreparedforwhateveriscomingnext.It’swhenyoustopdoingthatthattheworstseemstohappen,afterall.
ButIpromisemyselfthatI’lltrytosavorit.
IfeelAmma’shandbrushmine,andwhenIlooktomyright,she’salsofloatingnexttome.
IwonderhowlongwecanstayoutherebeforeNicowillbegintowonderaboutus.Wedidn’tbringanything—nophones,notowels,andwhileIlatheredupbeforeheadingout,IknowI’llburnifwestayouttoolong.
“Oh,fuck!”
There’ssplashing,ahandgraspingformyleg.
Iliftmyhead,andthereitis.
Thefinissmall,blackoneminute,graythenext,alldependingonhowthelighthitsit.Andwhileit’snothinglikethemonsterthatloomedinmydreamsafterIsawJawsforthefirsttime,it’senoughtosendmyheartintomythroat,mystomachplummetingtosomewherenearmyknees.
Thereissomethingsosinisteraboutthatfin,slicingthroughthewaterlikeablade,disruptingthetranquilityofthisperfectplace.
IfeellikeI’minadreamasIflipoverandswimbacktothebeach,likethewaterhassuddenlybecomeglue,thickandviscous,slowingmymovementseventhoughIknowI’mswimmingasfastasIcan,thattheshoreissoclose.Still,myentirebodyistensewithfear,bracingforasuddenspikeofpain,thenumbingterrorofknowingyou’reabouttobecomefood.
Ammaisrightnexttome,andI’mstruckbyasudden,darkthought.
Idon’thavetobeattheshark,Ijusthavetobeather.
EvenasIreachtheshallowwatermyself,scramblingtomyfeetinanawkwardcrawl,Icanpictureitinmymind:Ammaandthesharkbothgainingonme,myfootconnectingwithAmma’sjaw,herteethclockingtogether,herbloodribboningoutbrightredintheclearwaterasthesharkturnsforherwhileI’msafe,I’mout,I’malive…
Thevisionisfleeting,fadingasAmmaandIbothstumbleontothebeach,butwhenIlookather,I’mfilledwiththesameweirdthrillofhorrorandamazementaswhenyoupeerovertheedgeofacliffandthink,WhatifIjumpedrightnow?
Thereliefthatyoudidn’tdoitmixedwiththegiddyawfulnessofknowingthatyoucould
We’rebothonshorenow,andlookingoutatthewater,thefinisnocloserthanitwas.Thesharkisjustturninglazycirclesoutatthemouthofthelagoon.Itwasneverchasingusatall.
Wecollapseontothesand,laughinginthewayyoudowhenyou’vejustbeenscaredshitless,butsomehowcomeoutofitokay.
“Ohmygod,”Ammagasps,wrappinganarmaroundhermiddle.“Wewerealmostthosegirls!”
Iraiseashakinghandtopushmywethairbackfrommyface.“Whichgirls?”
Shesitsandwrapsanarmaroundherknees.
“Youknow,”shesays.“Thestupidonesinhorrormovies.Theoneswhoareflittingaboutandjokingarounddespiteitbeingreallyobviousthey’regoingtodieintheopeningscene.”
“Okay,butthatcouldn’tbeusbecausewedidn’thaveourtitshangingout,”Iremindher,andshelaughsagain.
“Solidpoint,”Ammasays,noddingatmewithapproval.“Itwould’vebeenEliza,then.”
Thatmakesbothofuscrackup,andoutinthelagoon,Iseethesharkturntowardtheopenwater.“Guesshegottiredofourshit,”Iobserve,andAmmastandsup,pickingupahandfulofsand.
“Fuckoff,shark!”sheyells,throwingitintothewater,andforwhateverreason,that’sthefunniestthingIhaveeverheard,becauseIlaughsohardthattearsstreamdownmycheeks,andAmmalaughs,too,thetwoofusgigglinginawayIhaven’tdoneinnearlythreeyears.EversinceMomdied.
“Ilikeyou,Lux,”Ammasaysoncewesettledown.“Imean,Iknewwhenwemetyouthatyouwereobviouslycool,butnowIreallylikeyou.”
It’spatheticthewaythosewordswarmme,pathetichowmuchI’vemissedbeingacceptedbyotherwomen,havingthiskindofeasycamaraderie.ItmakesmethinkabouthowIfeltjustafewminutesago,floatinginallthatclearwater.LikeIcouldjustexistassomeoneinthepresent,nopast,noworriesaboutthefuture.
Fuck,thatwouldbenice.
Ammasmilesatmefrombehindhersunglasses.“Andaswe’vediscussed,Idon’tlikepeoplethateasily,”shesays,“soit’saveryhighbar.”
She’steasing,butI’mrememberingwhatIfeltinthewater,thaturgetokickhertosavemyself.
You’reasurvivor,Brittanyhadsaidafterthestorm.Maybethat’sallitwas,somedeephumaninstinctofself-preservation.
Butsomethingaboutthatimage—Ammainthewater,bloodinhermouth—stayswithmefortherestoftheday.
ELEVEN
We’vebeenonMeroeforfourdaysbeforewedecidetotacklethejungle.
FromthedeckoftheSusannah,theislandisaparadise.Coconutpalmsriseuptothesky,thewaterlapsagainstawhiteshore,andeverythingispostcard-perfect.
Buttheinterioroftheislandisdifferent.
IknowNicosaidthattheislandwasusedasalandingpointduringWorldWarII,andthatthere’sanoldairstripsomewhereinthere,butstudyingallthesetreesnow,it’shardtobelieve.Theislandseemsimpenetrableanddark,andIdon’tknowwhywecan’tjustdowhatwedoeveryday—swim,walkonthebeach,drink.That’salotclosertomyideaofagoodtimethanhackingourwaythroughjunglejusttoseesomeoldwarshit.
ButNicoandJakeweresuperpumpedaboutthewholething,callingit“anadventure,”soI’mtrying—again—tobethecoolgirlfriend,whoisupforanything.SometimesIthinkifIcanjustkeeppretendingtobeherenough,I’lleventuallybecomeher.
BrittanyandElizaarebothwearingsimilarexpressionsofresignedindulgence.Amma,ontheotherhand,hasbeenrightatNico’sside,askingamillionquestions:howlongistheairstrip,whenwasitinuse,didpeopleactuallylivehere,onandon,andNicois,ofcourse,eatingitupeventhoughmostofhisanswersboildownto,“Um…Idon’tknow.”
Nexttome,Elizanudgesmyarm.“Shouldwebetakingnotes?”sheasksinalowvoice,noddingatAmma,andIsnort.
“Somepeoplearedefinitelyactinglikethere’satestlater,”Iwhisperalittletooloudly.Ammaglancesoveratmesharply,eventhoughIdon’tthinksheactuallyheardwhatIsaid.
Butmaybeshepickeduponthetone,becauseshestepsawayfromNico,sulkilyfoldingherarmsacrossherbody.
Sherunshotandcold,thatgirl.BrittanyandIhadspentthedayafterthealmostsharkattackontheAzureSky,andAmmahadn’tjoinedus,hangingoutontheSusannahinstead.Itdidn’tseemtobugBrittany,butIcouldhearthemwhisperingintheircabinatnight,andIwonderedifthey’dbeenarguing.
Notforthefirsttime,I’mgladJakeandElizaarehere,too.Havingextrapeopledefinitelyhelpsdefuseanypossibletension.
Thesixofusstandthereonthebeach,lookingintothejungle.NicoandJakeeachholdmachetes,bothofwhichcamefromtheAzureSky.Ithadseemedlikeaninsaneamountofmachooverkillatfirst,butnow,asIstareintothethickvegetationjustafewfeetfromshore,itmakessense.
“So,youguysareseriouslygoingtohackthroughthisshitlikeRambo?”Brittanyasks,onehandonherhip,hereyebrowsraised.
“Onlywaytodoit,love,”Jakereplies.He’snotquiteaswellput-togethertoday,tradinghisshortsandbutton-downsforanoldT-shirtandabaggypairofkhakis,anancientpairofsneakersonhisfeet.
ThemachetemakesawhizzingnoiseasNicoswingsit,thwackingintoathickvinewithasoundthat’sbothdampandmeaty,makingmeshudderalittle.“Fuckingsick,”hemutters,little-boyexcitementgleaminginhiseyes,andElizalaughs.
“God,youaresuchadude.”
Sheover-enunciates,drawingoutthevowel,duuuuude,andNicolaughs,too,shrugging.
“It’sfun.Youwannatry?”
Hehandsherthemachete,andshewrapsherfingersaroundthehandle,testingtheweightofitbeforeswinging.Herstrokeisn’tnearlyashardasNico’s,andthebladegetsstuckinthevineshewasattemptingtoslice.
“Buggerme,”shesays,tugging,andJakestepsforward,addinghisgriptohersastheypullthemacheteback.
“Harderthanitlooks,eh?”
Asthebladepopsout,Elizastaggersbackalittle,bumpingherbackintoJake’schest,andheusestheopportunitytoduckhisheadandpressakisstoherneck.
“I’msweaty!”Elizaobjects,butheonlygrinsandkissesheragain,onthecheekthistime.
“We’reallsweaty,”heremindsher,thengesturesuptothesunoverhead,alreadybeatingdownonuseventhoughit’sbarelynineinthemorning.“Andwe’regonnagetalotsweatierbeforethedayisout.”
He’snotlying.JakeandNicotaketurnscuttingthroughtheunderbrush,andIpullatstrayvinesandbrancheswithmyhands,Brittany,Amma,andElizaalldoingthesame.Itstillseemslikeittakesusagestomakeanyrealprogress,andI’mjustabouttosuggestwetakeabreak,whensuddenly,thevegetationopensupalittlemore,andwe’reinaclearing.
It’ssohumidinthejunglethatIfeellikeIcan’tbreathe,andtheairthatentersmylungsisthickandheavy.Underneathmyrashguard,myskinhasgrownpricklyanditchy,andeventhebacksofmykneesaresweating.
Butthere’ssomethingbeautifulhere,too.Beautifulandwildandstrange.
“It’ssoquiet,”Ammasays.There’salowdroneofinsects,andtherustlingoftheleavesoverheadasthetreesswayinthebreeze,butotherthanthat,there’snosound,noteventhewavesfromthebeach,asifthejunglehasclosedaroundus,sealingusin.
“It’slikechurch,”Brittanyadds,thenreachesforAmma’shand.“LikethatchurchinItaly,remember?”
IseeAmma’sthroatmoveassheswallows,thewayshesqueezesBrittany’shand,andIthinkbacktothatphotoofthemonBrittany’sphone.Inmomentslikethis,it’seasytoseewhytheirfriendshipworkseventhoughthey’resodifferent.Sharedexperiencesdothattopeople,andIwonderifwhenweleaveMeroe,we’llhavethiskindofbond,too.
Ilikethatidea.
Nicopointsupaheadwiththetipofhismachete.“Comeon.Thatlookslikeapath.”
Itisapath—notagreatone,andwedefinitelyhavetodomorehackingthroughthejungle,butit’seasiernow,andafterjustafewminutes,thegreeneryclearsagain,leavingusinavastopenspace,notreesoverhead,theoceanpulsingagainsttheshorejustafewyardsaway.
We’vereachedtheothersideoftheisland.Thesurfisstrongerhere,thewavesbiggeroutsidetheprotectedlagoonwherewe’reharbored.WhenIstepforward,myfootcatchestheedgeofsomething.
Ilookdownandseecrackedasphalt,grassandvinespushingthroughtheblackcement.“Guessthisisyourairstrip!”IcalltoNico,andhelooksaround,clearlyalittledisappointed.
“Man,”hesays,reachingbacktorufflethelonghairatthebackofhisneck,hismachetestillinhand.“Ithoughtitwouldbe…Idon’tknow.Notsofuckedup,Iguess.”
Jakepusheshissunglassesuphisnosewithonefinger,hisotherarmlooselyloopedaroundEliza’swaist.“That’sthejungleforyou,mate.Takeseverythingbackinaflash.”
Hesnapshisfingersinemphasis.There’ssomethingeerieaboutthispartoftheisland,somethingunsettling.Maybeit’sthereminderthatthisplacehasahistory,adarkhistory,atthat.Thattherewereotherpeoplehereonce,andthisisn’tsomeparadisecompletelyfreefromallthebullshitofthemodernworld.Ormaybeit’sjusthowloud,howviolenttheseasoundshere.
Suddenly,allIwanttodoisgobacktoourbeach,oursafelittleharbor.
ButNicoisalreadypushingatthevinesalongtheairstripwiththetipofhismachete,squattingdowntotakeacloserlook.
“YousaidtheyusedthisduringWorldWarII?”Ammaasks,crouchingdownnexttohim.
“Yeah,itwasaquickrefuelingstation,”Nicosays,thengestureswithhisblade.“KepttanksoverthereaccordingtosomeofthepicturesIsaw.”
“Wheredidyouseepictures?”Icall,andhesquintsatme.
“Ilookeditupbeforewecame.”
Newstome,butAmmasmilesathim,layingahandonhisarm.“That’ssocoolthatyoudidsomeresearch.”
There’snothingoffsideaboutthewayshe’stouchinghimorherwords,andIlikeAmmanow,Igenuinelydo,butthere’ssomethingaboutthewaythetwoofthemlook,crouchedtheretogether,thatmakesmystomachtwist,justthelittlestbit.Maybeit’sbecauseIrememberthatmomentbeforeweleftMaui,seeingthetwoofthemonthedeckoftheSusannah,lookingliketheybelongedthere.
Ormaybeit’sbecauseAmmalookslikeher,therealSusannah.
Butwhateverthisfeelingis,it’sstupidandirrational,andIpushitdown.
“Youokay?”Brittanyasksinalowvoice,appearingatmyside.
“Yeah,fine,”Isay.“JusthotandtiredandnotthatinterestedinWorldWarII,Iguess.”
Shecantellit’smorethanthat,Ithink,butshejustsmilesandgivesmeaquicksqueeze.Elizawalksovertomethen,somehowstilllookingprettyandput-togetherdespitethehumidity.“Whyexactlyarewedoingthisinsteadofdrinkingonthebeach?”
Ishakemyhead.“Boys.”
“True,”shesayswithanod,thenputsanarmaroundme.
“Let’sheadbackandleavethemtoit.IputabottleofPinotGrigiointhechillerbeforeweleft,anditisscreamingforme.”
Iimaginethecold,crispwhitewineslidingdownmythroatandalmostbeginsalivating.IturntotelltheothersthatElizaandIareheadingback,whenmyfootbumpssomethinghiddeninthetallvegetationneartherunway.
Ilookdown,expectingtoseeanoversizedrock.
Instead,teethgrinupatme,emptyeyesocketssearchingthesky.
Askull.
TWELVE
“Lux?”IhearNicocall,butI’mfrozeninplace,staringattheskull,thosecrackedteeth,thosegapingholesthatusedtobeeyes.WhenNicoreachesme,Iclutchathisshirt,myentirebodyshaking.
“It’s…it’saskull,”Isay,nearlypanting,andNico’seyeswidenashelooksdown.
“Holyfuck.”
Heletsgoofme,andInearlystumble,mykneesquivering.Brittanyissuddenlythereononesideofme,Elizaontheother,bothholdingmyelbows.
Nicogentlyliftstheskullwithbothhands.
“Jesus!”Brittanyyelps,butAmmakneelsdownnexttohim.
“Howlongdoyouthinkit’sbeenhere?”
JakeisatNico’sothersidenow,hismachetedanglingfromonehand.Helowershissunglassestosquintatit.“Longtime,I’dsay.Lookhowweathereditis.”
Nicobringsitclosertohisface,andmyvisionbeginstoswim.
“YousaidtheyusedthisplaceasastagingareaduringWorldWarII,right?”Ammaasks,closeenoughtoNiconowthattheirshoulderstouch.“Imean,someonecould’vegottenwoundedanddiedhere.Orsick.Maybetheywereburied,butsomethingdugitup.”
Theimageimmediatelycrawlsthroughmybrain—somejunglecreaturepawingatthedirt,unearthingabody,biting,tearing…
“Sweetie,drinksomewater,okay?”
Elizaisinfrontofmewithametalthermos,andeventhoughthewateriswarmandthere’savaguechemicalaftertaste,Isipgreedily,feelingsomeofmynausearecede.
Nicoisn’tevenlookingatme.
“Or,maybetheygotgot,youknow?”hesaystoJake.“Outhere,you’reinafightwithsomeone,whowouldevenknowifyoujust…finishedthemoff?”
Heturnedbacktotheskullinhishand,hisbrowneyesbright.“God,thatwouldbesick.Ifwefoundsomeguywhowasmurderedintheforties?”
I’mstartingtofeelalittlelesswoozynow,andawkwardlyawarethatI’mtheonlyonewhowasfreakingoutoverthis.Iwastheonewhofoundit,butnowthatsomeoftheshockiswearingoff,Ifeel…silly.LikeItotallyoverreacted.
Grinning,Nicoholdstheskullinonehand.
“Nowthisissomerealadventureshit.Sailingtoadesertedisland,hackingthroughjungle,findingsomeoldsoliderwhogotfragged.”Heturnstheskullinhishandsagain.“Itmakesacoolstory.WhenpeopleseethisthingintheSusannah,they’regonnabelike,‘Whatthefuck?’andIcantellthem—”
“I’msorry,whatdidyoujustsay?”
Nicoturnstolookatmethen,hisbrowsdrawntogether.“Theskull.Hey.”Hewalksforward,usinghisfreehandtosmoothmyhairbackfrommyface,butIrememberthosefingersonthebonejustaminuteago,andthereitisagain,thatsick,swayingsensation.
“Youfoundit,babe,”hegoeson,stillsmiling.“Don’tyouwantyourowntrophyontheboat?”
“Itwasaperson,”Isay,andmyvoiceistooloud.Overhead,aflockofbirdstakestothesky,noisilysquawking,andI’msuddenlyawarethatsweatisslitheringdownmyspine,andmyhairisstillstickingtomycheeks.Iprobablylookawful,andIwishIhadn’tsaidanything,wishthatIcouldjustlookatthisthinglikeeveryoneelse—asacoolartifact,alittlebitofmacabreexcitement.
Butmaybeyoucanonlyreactthatwaywhendeathhasneveractuallytouchedyou,personally.Inmymom’sfinalmonths,youcouldactuallyseetheshapeofherbonesunderneathherskin.Ithinkofthosebonessittingonsomeone’sfuckingboat,likethey’rejustacoolsouvenir,theequivalentofaplastictikicuporajarfullofshells…
Nexttome,InoticeBrittanyisalsoalittlepale,andwhenshereachesdowntotakemyhand,squeezingitinsupport,hergripistightenoughtohurt.
“Luxisright,”shesays.“Youcan’tjusttakeitfromhere.”
“It’soldashell,”Ammaargues,foldingherarmsoverherchest.“Andit’sjustaskull.Whoeveritwashasbeengonealongtime,Britt.It’sjust…anobjectnow.It’snolongeraperson.”
“IfLuxdoesn’twantitontheboat,itshouldn’tgoontheboat,”Elizasaysfirmly,andmyfaceflushesevenhotterbecausenowpeoplearetakingsidesoverthisthingthatIstarted.
Jakesuddenlystepsforward,takingtheskullfromNico.“Look,mate,”hesayslightly,“probablybadlucktohavebonesonyourboat,don’tyoureckon?I’lltakeitandburyitsomewhere.Butweshouldtakesomepicsofitorsomething,documentwherewefounditandallthat.”
Forasecond,IthinkNicomightarguewithhimortrytopresstheissue.Ifhedoes,IrealizeIhavenoideahowtoreact.Idon’twanttostartafight,butIalsoreally,reallydon’twantthatthingontheboat.Andmoreimportant,Idon’twanttohavetoexplainmyself.IwantNicotogetit,torememberthethingsI’vetoldhimaboutmymomandunderstandwhyahumanskullisn’texactlymyideaofdiscoveringburiedtreasure.
Instead,NiconodsatJake.“Yeah,goodpoint,man.Badjuju,probably.”
Wespendthenextthirtyminutesorsopokingaroundtheairstrip,butthefunhasgoneoutofit,andbeforelunch,we’reheadingbacktothebeach.JakeandElizadisappearoffontheirownforawhile,andBrittanyandAmmagoswimmingwhileIheadbacktotheboat,sayingI’mgoingtonap,butreally,Ijustwanttobealone.
It’snearlydinnertimebeforeanyoneelsecomesonboard.
I’msittingonthedeck,lettingmylegsdangleovertheside,whenNicoapproaches.
“Youdoingokay?”heasks,squattingdownnexttome.
I’mnot,actually.Istillfeelshakenup,whichinturnmakesmefeelstupidandsilly.NicoandJakeareright—theskullhadprobablybeentheresincetheforties,itwasnothingtobecreepedoutabout.
Butthebiggerissueisthatonceagain,somethingbotheredme—frightenedme—andNicogaveexactlyzerofucks.
“Justaweirdday,”Isay,andNicosighs.
“Thisisn’tMauiortheHaleakala,”hesays,runninghishandthroughhishair.“It’salittlewilder,alittleweirderhere.That’swhatmakesitfun.”
“Yeah,stumblingoverdeadpeople,superfun,”Isay,andhebumpsmyshoulderwithhis.
“Canyoulightenup?”
Hedoesn’tsoundmadorirritated,justalittlefrustrated,butIstillhateit.It’sanotheroneofthosemoments,thosesignsofthemanhecouldhavebeen—themanIsometimesworryhemayactuallybe.Ipullawayfromhim,myfingerscurlingaroundthewoodenedgeoftheboat.
“Whydon’tyougotalktoAmma?”Isuggest.“Sheseemedtobeaspsychedaboutthatskullasyouwere.”
Hesitsthereforamoment,andIcantellthathecan’tdecidehowbesttohandlethis,howtohandleme.Ifheshouldjustleaveitalone,ortrytoarguehiswayoutofthis.
Intheend,hegivesamuttered,“Whatever,”andheaveshimselfbacktohisfeet.Afterapause,Ihearasplash,andwhenItwisttolookovermyshoulder,Iseehimswimmingtotheshore,hisarmscuttingsmooth,sharpstrokesthroughthesparklingwater
Thesunissetting,andit’sturnedtheskyabrilliantarrayofcolors,frompurpletoorange,tothecottoncandypinkoftheclouds.Theonlysoundisbirdsongandthelapofthewavesagainstthehull,andIclosemyeyes.
Nicoisright.Thisplaceiswildandweird,andthat’stheappealofit.It’swhyBrittanyandAmmawantedtocomehere,whyJakeandElizachoseit.Fortheadventure.
Andisn’tthatwhatIwanted?
Standingup,IglancebacktowardtheAzureSky.IcanmakeoutJakeandEliza,putteringaroundthedeck,andIknowBrittanyandAmmaarestillontheisland.Nicohasstoppedswimming,treadingwaterasheturnstolookatme,andwithoutlettingmyselfthink,IreachforthehemofmyT-shirt,yankingitovermyhead.Ishuckoutofmyshortsjustasquickly,andthenI’mdivingintotheocean,nakedandmaybejustalittlebitinsane.
Nico’slaughwhenIcomeupmakesitworthit,though.
Heswimsovertome,ourbarelegsbumpingandtanglingasheleansforwardtopressaclumsy,saltykisstomylips.
Iwrapanarmaroundhisshoulders,hisskinslickagainstmine,andkisshimback.
“I’msorry.”Ibreatheagainsthismouthwhenwepart,andhesmiles,bumpshisforeheadintomine.
“It’sokay,babe,”hesays.“Iknowit’sadifferentwayoflivingouthere.Butit’sgoodpracticeforwhenwetakeoff,justthetwoofus.”
There’sapiercingwhistlefromthebeach,andweturninthewatertoseeBrittanyontheshore,laughingandgivingusathumbs-up.Ilaugh,too,sinkingalittlefartherdownintothewatertocovermybreasts,myboldnessdrainingawaynowthatthingsareokaywithmeandNico.
AmmaisnexttoBrittonthebeach,herhandsinherpockets.
IthinkabouthershoulderagainstNico’s,andthewaythatherhandhadbrushedhisasshe’dreachedouttotouchtheskull.
Justaweirdday,Ithinkagain.
Justaweirdday.
THIRTEEN
ThatnightwedecidetohangoutontheAzureSky.
Itfeelscozy,thewayyou’dfeelsittingaroundacampfire.Thesixofusarearrangedonthedeck,whichisilluminatedbylittlefairylightsthatElizastrungup,theboatgentlyrockingatanchor.Ammahaspluggedherphoneintothespeakers,andalow-keymixofacousticcoffeehousestuffplayssoftlyinthebackground.
Jakeisononeofthelow-seatedchairs,Elizaonthedeckbetweenhislegs,onearmdrapedoverhisthighashetellsNicoaboutsomeboatracebackinSydney.Ammasitsnexttohim,slowlypeelingthelabelfromherbeerbottle.
Brittanykneelsbehindme,gentlyattemptingtountanglemysalt-andsea-ravagedhair,andItipmyheadbacktosmileather.
“NoonehasplayedwithmyhairsinceIwasakid,”Itellher.
“It’stotallyselfishlymotivated,”shereplies.“Youhavethebesthaironthisboat,andit’sacrimetoletitsitlikethis.”
ThatmakesmelaughasItakeanothersipofmydrink.I’mmorethanalittledrunk,andeverythinghasgonesoftandhazy.Jakemadeusdaiquiris,butthey’renotthekindI’musedto—thosebrightpinkfrozenconcoctionsthatcameoutofmachinesattheHaleakala.Thisisjustfreshlimejuice,somesugar,andreallygoodrum,notastrawberryinsight.I’monmythird,andmyfaceisstartingtofeelalittlenumb,butIcan’tseemtostop.ThemoreIdrink,thefurtherawaythisafternoonfeels.Likeithappenedtosomeoneelse.
NicolaughsatsomethingJakesays,andIlookoverathim,warmthspreadinginmychestthathasnothingtodowiththebooze.
I’msogladhebroughtushere.I’msogladwemetBrittanyandAmmaandElizaandJake.I’m—
“Alright,petal,youreyesarecrossing,”Jakesays,leaningforwardtotakethehalf-emptyglassfrommyhand.Isurrenderitwithoutafight,grinningathim.
“Didyoujustcallmepetal?”
“Hecallseverywomanthat,”Elizasays,lightlypinchingJake’sknee.“Hethinksit’scharmingand,annoyingly,he’sright.”
“Itischarming,”Iagree.“Imean,usuallywhendudescallmesweetieorbabeorsomething,Ihateit.”
“Icallyoubabe,”Nicoobjects,andIwaveahandathim.
“ImeandudesI’mnotdating.Randomdudes.”
Jakesraiseshiseyebrows.“AmIrandom?”
I’mprobablytoodrunktobehavingthisconversation,mywordspingingallovertheplace,andIshakemyhead.“No,we’refriendsnow.Ithink,”Isay,andfrombehindme,Brittanychuckles.
“Youaresowasted,Lux.”
Ireallyam.Ihaven’tgottendrunklikethisinalongtime.Haven’treallyfeltsafeenough.Whengriefisstillraw,drinkinganddrugsareadouble-edgedsword.Theycannumbyou,makeyoufeelthepainless,buttheycanalsocrackyouwideopen,leavingyouvulnerableforafloodtocomerushingbackinwhenyouleastexpectit.I’dlearnedthatlessonthehardwayinthemonthsafterMom,whenacoupleofvodkaandsodasinmyapartmentturnedintofour,turnedintosix,andnextthingIknew,Iwassickandcryingonthebathroomfloor.
There’snofloodnow.Instead,Ilookaroundatmynewfriendsandwishmymomcould’vemetthem.Wishshecould’veseenthisplace,thissliceofparadisethatfeelslikesomethingoutofadream.
“There,”Brittanysaysfrombehindme,pattingmyhair.“Allfixedandbeautiful.”
Ireachback,andmyhairactuallyfeelssmoothundermyfingertipsforthefirsttimeinforever,twistedinalowknotatthebackofmyneck.
“Allgussiedupandnowheretoshowitoff,”Elizasays,smiling,andreachesforherphone.
“Icantakeapictureatleast,”shesays.“NotthatIcanshareituntilwe’rebackincivilization.”
Jaketiltshisbeerbottleinherdirection.“Alright,nowhere’sathoughtforyou—istheplacewherethingslikeInstagramandTwitterexistmoreorlesscivilizedthanthis,God’sownmasterpieceofnature,hmm?”
“Ohhh,”Brittanysays,comingaroundfrombehindmetoflopontothedeck.“You’reoneofthosetypes.Toogoodforawell-chosenfilter.”
“Nah,he’sjustold,”Elizasays,wrappinganarmaroundJake’sshinandlookingupathim.“Turnedthirtylastmonth,nowpretendshe’sneverusedanemojiinhislife.”
“Ihaven’t,”Jakeinsists,andElizarollshereyes.
“Doyouknow,”shegoeson,liftingonefingerintheair,“thatthisboatactuallycamewithsomeludicrouslyexpensiveWi-Fisituation,andJacobArthurKellyherehaditrippedthefuckout?Thatishowcommittedthismotherfuckeristobeingoffthegrid.”
“I’mspendingweeksinparadisewithmylady,IcannothavehercheckingherTwitterorreadingcelebritygossip,”Jakereplies,thenheleansdowntokissEliza’sforehead.“That’snotbeingthirty,that’sjustgoodsense.”
They’resocutetogether,soperfectlymatched,andsuddenlyIwishIwassittingnexttoNico,thatwecoulddrapeourselvesovereachotherwiththatsameeaseandcomfort.
Butitwouldlookawkwardnow,tryingtoclamberovertohim,likeIwastryingtoprovesomething.Andbesides,Ammaisalreadysittingthere.They’renottouching,they’renotevenallthatclosetogether,butIstillgetthatsameknotinmystomach,thatsamelittleburstofjealousy.
“Thirty,huh,”Nicosays,bracinghimselfonhishandsashestretchesouthislegs.“Thatmakesyoutheelderstatesman,Isuppose.I’mtwenty-six,Luxistwenty-four—”
“Twenty-fivenow,twenty-fourwhenyoumetme,”Icorrecthim,andhenods.
“Right.AndBrittanyandAmma,you’rewhat?Twenty-two?”
Theybothnod,andElizagivesamockshudder.“Ohmygod,Jake,we’reancient!Doesthatmakesus…”Shepauses,herfacetwistingintoarictusofhorror.“Theresponsibleones?”
“Christ,whatanightmare,”hereplies,thenstands,slightlyunsteady.“Alright,IneedtodosomethinghideouslyirresponsiblerightthissecondlestIstartcheckingmyretirementfundandreadingtheFinancialTimes.”
Withthat,hereachesforthehemofhisT-shirt,pullingitoverhisheadinoneeasymotionbeforemovingtothestarboardsideofthecatamaran.
BeforeIcanevenclockwhathe’sdoing,histrunksareslidingdownhislegs,hisskinbothgoldenandpaleinthemoonlight,andheleapsoverboardwithawhoop,thesplashloudinthequietnight.
“Youbloodylunatic!”Elizahollersafterhim,andIleanoverthesideoftheboattoseehimfloatingthere,grinningupatusashetreadswater.
“Comeon!”hecallsback.“What’sthepointofbeingonadesertedislandifyoudon’tdoabitofskinny-dipping?”
ThenJakelooksoveratme.“Lux,Iknowyou’reafan,”headds,winking,andmyfacegoeshotallofasudden.
He’dseenthat?Butthen,eventhoughthisislandismilesfromanything,eventhoughthere’snointernetorcellphoneservice,definitelynosocialmedia,it’snotactuallyprivate.Notwithallsixofusstickingsoclosetogether.
Brittanyisalreadymovingtothesideoftheboat,shuckingoffherclothesandgiggling,andAmmastandsup,too,butdoesn’tmakeanymovetogetundressed.
“Britt,comeon,”shesays.“It’sdark,andyoudon’tknowwhat’sdownthere.Itcouldbedangerous.”
“Oh,becauseyousuddenlycaresomuchaboutpeoplebeingreckless,”Brittanyreplies.She’sstillsmiling,butAmmaflincheslikeBrittanyhadhither,actuallysteppingbackandnearlybumpingintoNico.
“Youokay?”Ihearhimaskher,andshenodsevenasBrittany,nakedandbeautifulinthemoonlight,givesashriekandjumpsintothewater.
“There’sagirl!”Jakecrows,andElizasighs,standingupandreachingforthetiesofhersundress.
“Ifyoucan’tbeat’em,join’em,”shesays,andsoonthere’sathirdsplash,moregiggling,andshrieksfromthewater.
MybrainfeelshazyandunfocusedasIwatchtheirpalebodiescuttingthroughthedarkwater,themoonlightdancingonthegentlewaves.They’reallsmiling,jokingaround,asElizatwinesherselfaroundJake,hisbicepsflexingasheholdsherthereinthewater.IthinkagainaboutJakewatchingmeandNicoearlier,wonderingifhelikedit,ifhelookedatusthewayIthinkImightbelookingathimandElizanow.
Asthoughshesensesmygaze,Elizalooksup.“Coming,Lux?”shecalls,andIamjustabouttounbuttonmyshortswhenIhearAmmasay,“IthinkIwanttogobacktotheSusannah.I’mnotfeelingsogreat.”
“Rum’lldothat,”Nicosays,thenglancesoveratme.
“Yougonnaswimorcomebackwithus?”
IwanttojumpintothatwarmwaterwithJake,Eliza,andBrittany,Iwanttoswimnakedunderthemooninthisgorgeousplace,butthere’ssomethingabouttheideaofNicoandAmmaaloneonourboatthatIdon’tlike.
SoIdropmyhandfrommywaistbandandturnawayfromthewater,hearingBrittanycallout,“Comeon,Lux!”
“Maybetomorrow!”Ireply,andallthreeofthembooandhiss,Elizagivingmeathumbs-down,makingmelaugh.
ThethreeofusheadbacktotheSusannahinourtender,Ammagoingalmostimmediatelytothecabinandshuttingthedoor.
It’sonlywhenI’msettledinmybedwithNico,myheadspinning,mymouthstickyanddry,thatIrememberthatmomentwithherandBrittany,thepain—no,theneardevastation—thathadflashedacrossAmma’sface.
Oh,becauseyousuddenlycaresomuchaboutpeoplebeingreckless?
Whathadthatmeant?AndwhyhadithurtAmmasomuch?
“Doyouthinkthere’ssomethinggoingonwithAmmaandBrittany?”Iwhisper,myvoicesolowIcanhardlyhearit.
ButNicoisalreadyasleep.
BEFORE
Ammahasheardthesayingthree’sacrowdherwholelife,butshe’sneverexperienceditforherselfquitethewayshedoesinItaly.Chloeslidesintotheirlifelikeshe’salwaysbeenthere,likeshewasapartofthistripfromthebeginning.
Fromthefirstnighttheymeetherinthatcafé,Chloeiswiththemeverystepoftheway,waitingoutsidetheirhostelormeetingthematsomerestaurant,andwhileAmmadoesn’twanttoresenther,especiallygivenhowmuchBrittanyseemstoconnectwithher,it’sgettingharderandhardernotto.
Chloesays…
It’showBrittopenseverysentence.
Chloesaysthatrestauranthasthebestcarbonara.
ChloesaystheSpanishStepsareoverrated.
Chloesaysthatpartofthecityhasgottenreallytouristy.
Chloesays,Chloesays.
Chloeissuddenlytheauthorityoneverything,andBrittanycan’tstopparrotingallofheropinions.
EventhoughitsometimesfeelslikeBrittanyisherclosestfriend,Ammaremindsherselfthatshe’sonlyknownherforalittleoverayear.MaybethisisjustwhoBrittanyis—maybeshe’salwayslookingforsomeonetofollow.FirstitwasAmma.Now,it’sChloe.
Ammaunderstandstheimpulse,inaway—aftereverythingthat’shappenedtobothofthem,handingoverthereinstosomeoneelsecanfeeleasier.
ButastheysitinawinebarintheTrastevereneighborhood,BrittanylaughingatsomestoryChloeistellingabouthergapyearinEngland,AmmatriestoremindherselfthatBritthasbeenbettersinceChloeshowedup.Nomorecryingatnight,nomoretalkofgoinghome.
WhichiswhyAmmahadactuallybeenrelievedatfirstwhenChloehadaskedifshecouldtagalongwiththem.Thegroupshe’dbeenwiththatfirstnighthadbeenagroupofAmericangradstudentswhowere,accordingtoChloe,“gettingreallyfuckingboring,”andatthetime,Ammahadthoughttherewassomethingalittleglamorousaboutbeingabletodothat,tofloatbetweenvariousgroupsofpeople,makingnewfriendsallalongtheway.Noresponsibility,noattachments.
Noguilt.
Ammacan’timaginewhatitwouldfeelliketolivewithoutguilt.It’sherpermanentcompanion,hasbeensincethemomentshefirstlookedupBrittany’sFacebook,needingtoseethegirlwhoselifeshe’druined.
Learningtheywerebothatthesameschool,thatBrittanywasonlyayearbehindheratUMass,hadmadeherstomachlurch,hardenoughthatshe’druntothebathroomandthrownup.Ithadfelttooclose,too…fatedsomehow.ThatshewouldbeinFloridaforspringbreakatthesametimeasthisgirl,agirlshemight’veseenwalkingacrosscampus,agirlshemighthavebumpedintointhebathroomataparty,drunkenlycomplimentingherlipstickorherhair.
Onlylater,whenherheadhadclearedandherstomachhadsettled,hadAmmaunderstood.Itwasfate.
Fategivingherachancetotryandmakethisrightsomehow.
That’swhatledhertothatcounselingsessionatthechurch,whatledhertositdownonametalfoldingchairnexttoBrittany.Fate—andsomebizarrenotionofpenance—hadmadehertellBrittanythebiggestlieofherlife.
Atfirst,Ammahadjustwantedtoseeher.Tohearhertalk.AndmaybetherehadbeensomesickpartofherthatfeltcompelledtohearBrittany’sversionofevents.AllAmmareallyknewwasthatsheneededtoactuallyseethispersonwhoselifewasnowasirrevocablyalteredasAmma’s.
Sothat’swhy,eventhoughthere’ssomethingaboutChloe—aboutherquick,widesmilesandhereasycamaraderiewitheveryoneshemeets—thatunsettlesAmma,shewillputupwiththeirnewfriendandignoretheshitthatirritatesher.LikehowChloehadannounced,thesecondtheysatdown,thatshedidn’thaveanycash,andcouldoneofthemcoverher?
It’snotthefirsttimeshe’sdonethis,andgivenhowquicklythey’regoingthroughtheirmoney,Ammaisespeciallyirritated,butBrittanyquicklyagrees,andnowAmmaiswatchingChloedrinkwhatareprobablyBrittany’slastfeweuros.
Shefeelsreadytoleave,eventhoughshe’sjusthadoneglassofwine,whenagroupofguyscomesin,takingthetablenexttothem.
They’reclearlyAmericans;thebaseballcapsgiveitaway.Inthemonththey’vebeentravelinginEurope,Ammahasn’tseenanyonefromanyothercountrywearingthem.
Chloeleansforward,withthatcrookedsmileofhers,redhairswinging.“IwillbetthetwoofyoutwentyeurosthatthoseguyshavetheworstInstagramaccountsyou’veeverseen.”
Ammabitesbackwhatshereallywantstosay—Doyouevenhavetwentyeuros?—butBrittanytwistsslightlyinherchairtolookatthetrio.Allthreeguysaresittingaroundasmallmetaltable,theirkneesspreadwide.They’realsoallwearingsomevariationofthesameoutfit—longkhakishorts,button-downs,thecaps.Allthreewearaviatorsunglassesandhavegiantglassesofbeersittinginfrontofthem.
“That’sasucker’sbet,”Brittanysays,shakingherhead,andChloelaughs,leaningbackinherseat.
“Okay,butnowIneedtoknowifI’mright,”shesays,andthenshestandsandheadsovertotheirtable.
Sheputsherhandonthebackofthechairofthealphabro,thebiggestofthethree.Heiswearingafancywatchononethickwrist,andseveraltattoospeepoutfrombeneathhisrolled-upsleeves.
“IswearIknowyou,”Chloesaystotheguy,herAussieaccentslippingintoAmericansoflawlesslythatAmmaraiseshereyebrowsinsurprise.
“DidyougotoBrown?”Chloecontinues,andtheguyshakeshisheadevenashepusheshissunglassesuptogetabetterlookather.Chloeisnotaknockout,notinthesamewayBrittanyis,butthere’ssomethingaboutherthatdrawstheeye,andAmmaseesthewaytheguy’sgazeslidesoverChloe’sbody.
“USC,”hereplies,andChloegiggles,cockingoutonehipassheleansinalittlecloser.“Ohmygod,duh.”
Shereachesout,playfullytappingthebrimofhishat,wheretheUSClogoisstitchedinbrightthread.Theguy’ssmilewidens.“ButIdototallyknowyoufromsomewhere,”Chloecontinues,andtheguyshiftsinhisseat,somehowspreadinghislegsevenwider.
“Whydotheyalldothat?”BrittanymutterstoAmma,tippingthecontentsofherwineglassdownherthroat.“It’ssounattractive.”
“Youfollowlacrosse?”theguysaystoChloe,histonecocky.
“Maybethat’sit!”
Ammawatchesherandthedudeputtheirheadstogether,phonesemergingastheyclearlyexchangenumbersorsocialmediahandles,maybeboth.ShewondersifChloehashadmoretodrinkthansherealizedbecausejustasshegetsupfromherseat,Chloestumblesalittle,anddropsherphoneunderthetable.She’sgigglingassheretrievesit,whileallthreeofthedudestaketheopportunitytocheckoutherass.
“Classy,”Ammamurmurs,unsurewhethershe’strashingChloeortheguys.
Onceshe’sbackinherseat,Chloewagglesherphoneatthem.“Checkit.”
Inafewseconds,shehasUSC’sprofilepulledup,andsurreptitiouslyshowsittoBrittanyandAmma.“WhatdidItellyou?”
It’sendlessshotsofthesameguyposingnexttofancycars,hischinlifted,hisgazesomewhereinthemiddledistance.He’sshirtlessinatleasthalfofthem,hisskingoldenandsmooth,darkinkswirlingupanddownhismassivebiceps.
“Whatdoesheevendoforaliving?”Brittanyasks.“Imean,shit,that’saMaybachhe’sstandinginfrontof.”
Thewaiterapproaches,abottleofwineinacoldbucket.“Wedidn’torderthat,”Ammasays,asChloetwiststosmileattheguys,wavinginthanks.
Amma’sfacegoeshot.Ofcourse.
“Well,forone,”ChloesaystoBrittanyasshefillsherglass,“Icanguaranteeyouhedoesn’tactuallyownthatcar.He’sprobablyjustdoingaphotoshootatalot.Andtwo,alltheseguysarelikethis.Thiswhole‘entrepreneur’thing.CallthemselvesCEOsofacompanytheymadeupthemselvesandwhich,surprise!—–neverturnsaprofit.”Sheshakesherhead.“Thesefuckersareeverywhere.Andtheyalllooklikethat,andtheyallhavesocialmediaaccountsthatlooklikethisandsaystupidshitlike,‘Youcan’tflywithlionsifyouswimwithsheep.’”
ThatactuallymakesAmmalaugh,butBrittanyisstillscrolling,frowning.“God,can’ttheyseehowdoucheythisis?”
“Douchecallstodouche,”Chloeanswerswithashrug.“That’showtheyactuallymakemoney.Theyfrontlikebigguys,whichsucksinotherdudeswhowanttobebigguys,too—thentheyrunthese,like,‘marketingworkshops’forthousandsofdollars.It’sallascam.”
Sheglancesbackoverattheirtable,andAmmaseesamusclemoveinherjaw.“Andtheworstpartis,theygetawaywithit.”
Thecheckarrivesforthefewglassestheyorderedbeforetheguyscamein,andBrittanyreachesforit.
“I’vegotit,”Chloesays,takingthecheckandpullingoutherwallet.Ammacatchesaglimpseinsideherpurse,andnoticesawadofcashcrammedinasidepocket.
“Ithoughtyoudidn’thaveanycash,”shesays.
Chloeshrugsasshezipsupherbag.“Foundsome.”
NOW
FOURTEEN
I’mupearlyforsomereasonthenextmorning,drinkingcrappyinstantcoffeeontheSusannah’sdeckwhenElizamotorsoverintheZodiac.Despiteallthedaiquirislastnight,shelooksfreshandbright,hersmileblindingintheearlysunlight.
“CanIkidnapyou?”shecallsup,andIliftmyplasticmug.
“Doyouhavebettercoffee?”
Inresponse,sheholdsupaheavy-lookingmetalthermos,andIgrin,puttingmymugdown.
“Considermekidnapped,then.”
Duckingmyheadintothecabin,IcallouttoNico.“Babe?ElizaandIaregoingofftodoalittleexploring,okay?”
Hegruntsinacknowledgment,andIgrabapairofsunglassesandatowel,plusmybeat-upsneakers,beforehoppingdowntheladderintothewaitingZodiac.
Elizagrinsatme,andthenwe’reheadingforthebeach.We’vegottenusedtotheconvenienceofswimmingbackandforth,leavingourphonesbehind.Jakeevenmadeusalittlelean-toonthebeachwithatarpwherewecanstoretowelsandsunscreen.It’sfunnyhowquicklythisplacehasstartedtofeellikehome,evenmorethanMauididaftermonths.
Westopintheshallows,gettingouttodragthedinghyupthebeachbeforeElizapointsintothejungle.“Youupforthatagain?”
Igiveatheatricalgroanthatmakesherlaugh,andsheputsupherhands.
“Exactlyzeroskullsthistime,Ipromise.”
“Canyouevenmakeapromiselikethathere?”
Sheconsidersthat,screwingupherfaceandtiltingherheadtotheside.“Youknowwhat?Probablynot!”
Wefollowthetrailtheguyshackedyesterdaytotheclearing,butthistime,insteadofpushingonthewaywewent,Elizaturnstotheleft.Ifollowher,alreadysweating,theheatandhumidityofthejungleintenseeventhoughit’searlyintheday.Butafterjustafewminutes,Ihearthesoundofrushingwater,andIlookatElizainsurprise.There’salittlesmileplayingaroundherlips,andshesomehowstilllookscoolandput-together,herblondhairpulledupinatightbunatthetopofherhead.
Shewinks,andpushessomebranchesback.
We’vearrivedatanothersmallclearing,butthisonecontainsapool,fedbyawaterfall.Thesceneisperfectlyframed:thetreesoverheadkeepitinshade,thewaterisclear,andtherearepatchesofsandthatareperfectforsitting.
“Ifoundthistheotherday,”shesays.“Okay,technicallyJakefoundit,andonlybecausehewaslookingforanexoticplacetoshag,butstill.”
It’saneasyscenetoimagine,andIfindmyselfblushinginstantaneously:thetwoofthem,beautiful,blond,andtan,slickedwithwater…thethoughtsendsasudden,surprisingthrumofdesirethroughme.Maybeit’sjustbecauseNicoandIhaven’thadsexsincebeforeweleftMaui.Clearly,Ishouldbringhimhereandrectifythat.
“Howlonghaveyoutwobeentogether?”Iask,followingElizatoasandypatchwherewesit,watchingthewaterflowintothepool.
“Ohgod,”shesaysonasigh,tippingherheadback.“Dependsonhowyoulookatit.Technically,aboutamonth.”
Theyhavetheeasycomfortofpeoplewho’vebeentogetherforages,andmyfacemustrevealmyshockbecauseElizalaughs.“Iknow.WecomeacrossasveryOldMarried.ButI’veactuallyknownhimsincewewereteenagers,sothat’spartofit.Timingwasneverrightuntilrecently.WhataboutyouandNico?”
“Nearlyayearnow,”Isay.“WemetinSanDiego,thenhesailedontoMauiandIfollowed.”
“Romantic,”shesays,noddingapprovingly,beforelookingbacktowardthepool,herarmsaroundherknees.“It’sfunny,becauseyoutwoseemsodifferent,really.”
I’veneverreallyconsideredwhatNicoandIlookliketotheoutsideworld.We’vemoreorlessbeeninthislittlesecludedbubbleoftwoupuntilnow.
“Dowe?”
“Mmm,”shenods.“He’ssolaid-backhe’sbasicallyhorizontal.Whichisn’tabadthing!”Elizaholdsuponehand,reassuringme.“Godknowsweneedmoremenlikethat.Butyouseemso…Idon’tknow.Tough.Steely.”
Ilaughself-consciously.“Seriously?”
Shenodsagain.“Seriously.Butit’sweird,becausesometimesyou’relike—”
Sittingupstraight,sheclenchesherfists,herjaw,staresoffintothedistancelikeawomanonamission,andIlaugh,embarrassedandpleasedatthisversionofme.
“LikeaproperValkyrie,”shesays,lettingtheposedrop.“Butthen,othertimes,you’reall—”
Anewpose.Shecurlshershouldersforward,ducksherhead,looksupatmethroughherlashes,andIlaughagain,butit’sforced.IsthathowIcomeacross?So…meek?Timid?
Elizashakesitoff,sittingupstraightagain.“Ihavenotevenbeguntofigureyououtyet,LuxMcAllister,”sheconcludes,andIamsurprisedtohearmyselfreply,“Youandmeboth.”
Thewordshangthere,neitherofussayinganythingforalongtime.
Elizagesturestowardthepoolinfrontofus.“Iknowitlookspretty,butit’sbrackish.Totallyundrinkable.”
“Iwonderifthoseshipwreckedsailorseverstumbledacrossit,”Isay,gratefulforthechangeofsubject.Iimaginethosemenfromlongago,sunburnedandskinny,wearingtheheavybluewoolcoatsoftheBritishnavyinthisheat.“Thatwould’vebeenfuckingawful,right?Comingashore,discoveringparadise,butitwon’thelpyou.”
“Water,watereverywhere,notadroptodrink,”Elizaquotesasshenods.Thensheelbowsme.“Butthat’snotus,thankChrist.Plentyofwaterbackonboard.”
“Andplentyofwine,”Iadd,makingherlaugh.
“That,too.”
Sheleansbackonherelbows,toeingoffhershoesandliftingherfacetothesky.“So,tellmeeverythingaboutyourself,Lux.”
Imimicherposture.“Everything?”
“Well,theinterestingbits.”
Iscoff.“Therearen’tmanyofthose.”
Elizalooksoveratme,slidinghersunglassesdownhernose.“Irefusetobelievethat.Mygod,woman,lookatyou!LivinginMaui,sailingaroundtheworldwithascorchinglyhotman…Brittanytellsmeyounearlywentoverboardinastormonthewayhereandcompletelykeptyourcool.”Sheshrugs.“Thatallsoundsveryfuckinginterestingtome.”
Theweirdestthingis,whenshesaysitlikethat,Iactuallyfeelinteresting.Likesomeonewhohasdoneshit.
AndIreallylikethatversionofme.
Maybeit’stheeasywarmthinhervoice,maybeit’sthebeautyofoursurroundings,maybeIjustreallylikeEliza,butIhearmyselfsay,“Mymomdied.WhenIwasincollege.”
Ifindmyselftellingherthewholestory:aboutthedivorceandmydad’snewfamily,howIaskedhimforhelpwhenMomwassick,andhowhewouldn’tgiveit.
“Whataprick,”shemutters,andthewordsareoutbeforeIcanstopmyself.
“Igothimback.”
Elizaturnstolookatme,eyebrowsraised,andIcan’thelpbutsmilealittleevenasthememorybringsbackthisqueasymixofexcitementandshame.
“Hecametoherfuneral,believeitornot.Afterallofthat,hefuckingshowedupatthememorialservice.”Ishakemyhead.“Icouldn’tbelieveit.Hesaidhe‘owedittoher.’”
Elizasnorts.“Seemslikeheowedherashit-tonmorethanthat.”
“Exactly,”Isay.“Hecouldn’tbethereforherwhenshewassick,buthecouldflyallthewaytoSanDiegoonceshewasdead?”Ishakemyhead,rememberingDadinhisnicenavysuit,hisexpressioncontrite,mywholebodystiffashe’dgonetohugme.Iwantedtobehereforyou.
“Ofcourse,”Igoon,“he’dbroughthisnewwifeandhisnewkids.Hadthedecencynottobringthemtothefuneralhome,buttheywerethere.Mightaswelltakeintheworld-famouszoowhenyouflyintotowntopretendtocareaboutyouroldestkid,right?”
That’swhathadgottenmethemost.Iwould’verespectedhimmoreifhejusthadn’tshownup,buthewantedtohaveitbothways.LookliketheGoodDadwhenitdidn’tmatteranymore,andactuallybetheGoodDadtohisnewkids.
“So,whatdidyoudo?”Elizaasks,andIglanceoverather.
I’venevertoldanyoneaboutthis—notevenNico.Ididn’tthinkhe’dunderstand.
“Hewantedtotakemeouttodinnerthatlastnighthewasthere,”Icontinue,“atthisfancyplaceintheGaslampQuarter.Iguessassomekindofsympatheticgesture?SoIsaidI’dgo,butthenIshoweduplate.Waitedforhimtoorderhisdrink,getsettled.”
“Iamalreadylovingthisstory.”
Ismile,rememberingtherushI’dfeltwhenIwalkedin.“Iwentstraighttohistable,andjust…lethimhaveit.Toldhimwhatashittydadhewas,howhethoughthecouldstartoverwithsomenewfamily,butthey’deventuallyworkouthowshittyhewas,too.”
Elizaissittingupnow,herarmsaroundherknees.“Ifthisendswithyouthrowinghisowndrinkrightinhisface,I’mgoingtobedelighted.”
“Itdoes,yes,”Iadmit,myfaceflushingwiththememory,rememberinghowtheentirerestauranthadfallensilentatthatpoint,howthemartinihadmadeasplashingsoundasithithisforehead.“Ialsogotescortedoutandpermanentlybannedfromtherestaurant,buthonestly,Iwasfinewiththat.It’snotlikeIwasevergoingbackthereagain.”
Later,I’dlaininbedthinkingthatImighthavesetmyselfonfirejusttoburnmydad,butithadfeltworthit.Thewayhisfacehadgonepale,thesatisfactionoffinally,finallysayingeverythingI’dwantedto,ofgivingintothatsideofmyselfthatjustwantedtofuckingdosomething,nomatterhowimpulsive.
Ishrug,suddenlyshy.“Itsoundsstupid,I’msure.”
“Itdoesn’t.”Herhandlandsonmine,squeezingit.“Itsoundsbrave.”
Ilookoverather,smilingevenasIfeelmythroatgotight.“Thanks.”
“Toldyou,”shegoeson.“Tough.Steely.Afighter.”
“Yeah,well,lately,Ifeelmorelikeadrifter.”Isigh.“LikeI’mjustclingingontosomeoneelse’sdream.”
“Nothingwrongwithalittledrifting,”shetellsme,andthenflashesmethatbrightwhitegrinagain.“Meansyouhaveoptions.”
“Options,”Irepeat,andIlikethat.Itfeelsmoresolidwhensheputsitthatway.LikeI’mnotjustdrifting,butwaiting.Waitingfortherightthing,therightopportunity,therightdreamtopursue.
IfonlyIcanfigureoutwhatitis.
Westayatthepoolforanotherhourorso,andwhenweheadback,theothersarealreadygatheredonthebeach.It’sbecomearoutinenow,allofuscongregatingtherebymidday,andit’slikewe’realittlefamilyonvacationorsomething.
ButasElizaandIapproach,Irealizenooneistalking.They’realljuststaringatthehorizon,frowning.IapproachBrittany.
“What’sgoingon?”
Shepoints.
There,outatsea,isasail.
Giventhattherewereotherpeopleherewhenweshowedup,itshouldn’tsurprisemethatanotherboatmightturnup.Butit’sstillunnerving,seeingsomeonesaildirectlytowardus—towardwhathasstartedtofeellikeourownprivateisland.
Wewatchinsilenceastheboatmakesitswaythroughtheshoals.It’snotasniceastheAzureSky,notevenasniceastheSusannah.Asolidlymiddle-of-the-roadboat,andseeingitmakesmyheartsink.
“Shit,”Brittanysaysatmyside,shadinghereyesagainstthesun.“Idon’twanttoshare.”
There’ssomethingsoplaintiveinhervoicethatIlaugheventhoughI’mdisappointed,too.
“You’realreadysharingwithElizaandJake,”Iremindher,andsheglancesoveratme.
“Butthey’refriendsnow,”shesays.“Friendswithgoodbooze,too.Thesepeoplearen’tfriends.They’reinterlopers.”
“Wannadefendtheisland?”Iaskher.“Makeboobytraps,gofullSwissFamilyRobinson?”
I’mjoking,obviously,butBrittanysays,“Maybewecouldgogetthatskullbackattheairstrip.Putitonthebeach,scarethemintoleaving.”
Whensheseesmyhorrifiedexpression,shelaughs,bumpingherhipagainstmine.“Ohmygod,yourface.”
Beforeturninghergazebacktosea,sheasks,“Speakingof,whatwereyouandElizadoinginthejungle?”
It’srightthereonthetipofmytonguetotellherallaboutthepool,thatperfecthiddenspot,butsomethingstopsme.“Oh,justwalkingaround.Nothingspecial.”
Shenodsastheboatmotorsoverthebreakersandintotheharbor.Fromthisdistance,Ispotasinglefigure,standingatthewheel.
“Andthen,”Jakesayswithasigh,“therewereseven.”
BEFORE
Elizaisalmostseventeenwhenitallcomescrashingdown.
BeforethatnightinApril,herlifehadn’texactlybeencharmed.Therewasneverenoughmoney,herdadsplitbeforesheevenreallyknewhim,andsheandMumhadmovedsomanytimes.They’dlivedinbigcitieslikeLondonandManchester,andtinyvillageswithnamesthatsoundlikesomethingoutofastorybook—but,forEliza,theywerestilljustaseriesofcouncilflatsandshittyschools.
She’sglidedby,Elizahas,becauseshe’spretty,becauseshe’squick,becausesheworkedoutthatthing,thatsecret,thattakesmostpeopleagestolearn—noonereallywantsyoutobeyourself.Theyonlywantthemselvesreflectedbackatthem.
Elizaisverygoodatdoingjustthat.
Sowhilesheneverhasthenicestclothesorthehottestbrands,shealwayshasfriends,alwaysfindsherselfatthecenterofthings,andthat’swhereshelikestobe,whereshefeelsthemostincontrol.
Bythetimeshe’ssixteen,thingshavesettled.Hermumhasagoodjobnow,workingasahousekeeperforarichfamilyjustoutsideofLondon,whileElizaisfirmlyensconcedinthesocialhierarchyofherschool:queenbee,aperfectgoldengirldespiteherratherdingysemidetachedhouseandherdrugstoremakeup.She’sstudyingforherGSCEs,smartenoughtogetintoadecentuniversity,smartenoughtoensurethatthelifethattrappedhermotherisn’tgoingtotrapher.
Andthen,ofcourse,there’sJake.
SHEMEETSHIMONAtypicallyrainyafternoon.They’veonlygottheonecar,sheandMum,andElizaneededtodriveintothevillagetodosomeshoppingafterschool.Mumletheruseit,butonlyifElizaagreedtopickherupfromworkthatafternoon.Elizaisirritatedthathershoppingtriphasbeencutshort,andthenmoreirritatedwhenhermumdoesn’tcomeoutattheappointedtime,evenaftersheblowsthehorn.
Rainsplattersonher,slitheringdownthebackofherjacketasshejogsuptothefrontstepsofthefancybrickhousewithitsboxhedgesanditssmartreddoor.
Elizaringsthebell,pissedoffandwet,herhairalreadycurlinginthedamp,andwhenthedooropens,she’sreadytosnapathermumorsomeothertight-arsedmaidstandingthere.
Shedoesn’texpecthim
Tall,withhairjustafewshadesdarkerthanherowngoldenblond,andeyesthatarealmostpainfullyblue,JakeKellyis,she’lleventuallylearn,bothhisfamily’sprideandtheirblacksheep,aProblemChildalreadykickedoutoftwoboardingschoolsbackinAustralia,wheretheKellysarefrom.ThismovetoEnglandisasortoflastresort,achancetofinally“straightentheboyout.”
Itwon’ttake.Nothingeverwill.ButElizadoesn’tknowthatyet.
Sheonlyknowsthatheisthefittestboyshe’severseen,standingthereinhisschooluniformwithhistieundone,hisjacketoff.He’sayearolderthanher,sheknows,havingheardhermummentionMr.Kelly’sson,howhegoestotheposhboy’sschoolinthenextvillageover,howtherearealready“issues,”andthatMr.Kellyisthinkingoftransferringhimsomewhereabitstricter.
“Um,hi,”shesays,andhesmilesatherappraisingly,leaningagainstthedoorframe.
“G’day.”
Hedoesthis,she’lleventuallylearn.LeansheavyontheAussiethingwithnewpeople.Heischarmandsunshineitselfwhenitsuitshim.
It’salongtimebeforeElizafiguresoutthatit’sallmostlysurface,anact,asmuchasherqueenbeethingis.
Butallthatisstilltocome.Rightnow,Elizajustreturnshissmileandsays,“I’mheretopickupmymum?Beth?”
“HereIam,love.Sorry.”
Hermumrushestowardthedoor,pullingonhercoat,andElizanoticesthatherhairismussed,theprettypinklipstickshewaswearingthatmorningisgone,andshewon’tfigureitout,notthen,butitturnsoutcleaningisnottheonlythingBethdoesforMr.Kelly.
“Seeyouaround,”JakesaystoEliza,anditfeelslikeapromiseandathreatallatonce.
Shelikesthat.
IT’SASECRETATFIRST,ElizaandJake.ShestartsneedingthecarmoreregularlysothatshehastopickMumupfromthatbigfancyhouse,startsturningupearliersothatshehastohangaroundandwait.
ThefirsttimeJakekissesher,it’sinthecar,parkedinthedrivewaywhiletherainpoursdownoutside,andhetasteslikesmokeandcinnamongum,andElizafallshard,sohardthatshedoesn’tnoticewhat’sgoingonwithhermum.Hersuddendistraction,thephoneringingatallhours,thewayshealwaysseemstobeattheKellys,evenonSaturdays—noneofitregistersasstrange.ElizaisinherownbubbleofschoolandJake,soshe’sgenuinelyshockedwhen,aboutamonthafterthatfirstkiss,Jakesaystoher,“Youknowourparentsarefucking,right?”
SheandJakeareinhisbed,hisdoorlocked,hismusicplayingloudly,notthatitreallymatters.Eliza’sneverseenanyoneabletogetawaywithasmuchasJakemanagestogetawaywith.
Nowsheplacesahandonhischest,pushingherselfuptolookinhiseyes.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
Nodding,Jakeskimsahandoverherbareback.“Incaseyouhaven’tnoticed,she’salwayshere,andthishouseisneverallthatclean,petal.”
Thatmakessense,evenasitcurdlessomethinginEliza’sstomach.There’ssomethingso…patheticaboutit.Beingthesidepiecetoarichguy,alwaysathisbeckandcall.
ButElizawon’trealizejusthowpatheticitisuntilthatnightinAprilwhenhermotherdoesn’tcomehome.
Atfirst,itdoesn’treallyworryher—shelikeshavingthehousetoherself,figureshermumisoffwithMr.Kellyagain.Whenthephonerings,shehasnopremonitionofhowmuchherlifeisabouttochange.
ThefirstthingshehearsisMumsniffling.“Oh,baby,”hermumsays.“Ohbaby,Iamsosorry.”
Thestorycomesrushingoutthen.Howshewasjust“poppingdowntoLondonfortheafternoon,”andgotstoppedatKingsCross,howthelittlecarryallbagshebroughtwithherjusthappenedtobefullofthreekilosofcocaine,andnowshe’ssittinginajailinLondon,andshe’scallingMr.Kellytoseeifhecanpostbail,buthe’snotpickingup,soshe’snotsurewhenshe’llbehome.
“Mum,”Elizasays,hervoiceacroak,herwholebodygoinghotandcoldatthesametime.“Youhavetotellthemthedrugsarehis.Becausetheyare,right?HemadeyoutakethemtoLondon?”
“Jackhadnothingtodowiththis,”hermumsays,andElizascoffseventhoughshe’scrying.
“Right,becauseyoujustgotthreekilosofcokeonyourown,andthenjustdecidedtocarrythemwithyoutoLondon.Mum,please!”
Hermum’svoiceissosoftwhensheanswers,sotired.“Itwon’tmatteranyway.”
Itdoesn’t.HermumnevercomesbackfromLondon,sentencedtotenyearsfortraffickingwiththeintenttosell.SheneveroncementionsJackKelly’sname,pleadsguilty,andisswallowedupbythesystem.
Herlastnightinthevillage,thenightbeforehermum’ssisterwilltakeherofftoEssex,ElizaseesJakeonefinaltime.Afterhermum’sarrest,she’sstayedawayfromhim,himandhiswholebloodyfamily,butsheknowsthey’regoingbacktoAustraliasoon,andshethinksaboutitallthetime,himandhisfather—hisfuckingfather—insomeotherbighouse,abletostartovercleanandfreshwhenevertheywantorneed.
Shesitsthereinhiscar,hereyesstingingwithhowmuchshe’scried,hertissuescrumpledinherhand,andhelightsajoint,offeringherahit.
Shedoesn’ttakeit,theideaofdrugsabhorrenttohernow.She’svowedtonevertouchanyofitagain.
Jakeonlyshrugs,suckingthebluesmokeintohislungs,exhalingitintothecar,andElizafeelsslightlydizzy.
“It’salljustsounfair,”shesaysnow.
“Fuckingwayofit,isn’tit?”Jakereplieseasily,andElizalooksathim.
He’ssohandsome,caughtintheorangeglowofthestreetlight,andshesuddenlyunderstandsthatmenlikeJake’sfather—menlikeJakehimself—willgetawaywiththisforever.
Elizathoughtshehadworkedoutthesecret,butit’snothingcomparedtothissecretbrotherhoodofmen.
“Iguess,”shesays,andwhatshethinksis,Butitdoesn’thavetobe.
Itwon’tbeforme.
A_Wandering_Heart:Anyoneeverheardof#MeroeIsland?Apparentlyit’sjustafewdayssailfromHawaii,andmeandsomefriendswerethinkingofhittingitupafter#HawaiianPro.Thoughts??Shaka2379:@A_Wandering_HeartWOULDNOT.Thatplacehasbadvibes.Meandsomebuddiesstoppedbytwoyearsago2/10DONOTRECOMMEND.A_Wandering_Heart:@Shaka2379Lol,okay??Whatdoyoumean“badvibes?”Shaka2379:@A_Wandering_HeartIdkjustalotofpeoplediedthereIguess,placefeelsoff.Weweregonnastayforlikeaweekbailedafter2days.IFUGOUKNO.UrBoyRobbRoy:@Shaka2379@A_Wandering_HeartPUUUUSSSSSSIES.Morefortherestofus!!!#GonnaEatThatLongPigSon#FuckinInfluencersTwitter,March2022NOW
FIFTEEN
TheotherboatanchorsbehindtheSusannahandtheAzureSky,andItakeitasagoodsign.Whoeverisaboard,they’rerespectfulandkeepingtheirdistance.
“Shouldwetakethedinghyouttogreetthem?”Nicoasks.Hisarmisslungaroundmyshoulders,andIstepalittleclosertohim.
“Welcomingparty?”Jakeasks.“Notaterribleidea.”
“I’mnotfeelingallthatwelcoming,darling,”Elizareplies.“Whydon’tyouandNicogo?Putthefearofgodinthemjustincase.”
Jakesnorts.“Ahyes,nothingmoreintimidatingthanoneguyinsalmonshorts,andanothersportingadinosaurbandana.”
Butamanhasalreadyjumpedofftheboat,andisswimmingforshore.
“Well,atleasthe’sobservingthelocalcustoms,”Ammajokes,butwe’realltootensetolaugh.
Ican’thelpit—watchingsomeoneelseapproachtheislandthathasnowstartedtoseemlike“ours,”Ifeelpossessive.
Ididn’tknowIhadthatstreakinme,anditstrikesmehowmuchwerevertbacktothemostbasichumaninstinctswhenweleavecivilizationbehind,eventemporarily.
Themanisacapableswimmer,andhequicklyreachestheshore,staggeringtowarduswithabigsmileonhisface.
He’sropyandskinny,hisshortshanginglowonhiships,heldupbyabeltsooldandfrayingthatatfirstglance,itlookslikeastraypieceoftwine.Hishairhasbeenbuzzeddowntothescalp,pinkskinshowingthroughinsomeplaceswherethesunobviouslygothim.Buthe’sgotaneasygrinashesurveysusonthebeach,hishandsonhiships.He’snotquiteastallasJake,butalittletallerthanNico.Still,IthinkIcouldknockhimoverwithonegoodpush.
“Paradise,huh!”hesays,throwinghisarmswide,andwhenwejuststareathim,hedropshisarms,steppingforwardandextendingahand.“I’mRobbie.”He’sAmerican,withasouthernaccentIcan’tquiteplace.“Hopeit’scoolI’veturnedup?”
Jakeisthefirsttotakehishand,withthatwinningsmileI’veseenbefore,butthistime,itdoesn’tquitereachhiseyes.IwonderifhiseasyfriendlinesshasalwaysjustbeenanactandI’monlynoticingitnow.
“JakeKelly.Morethemerrier,mate,”hesays,andRobbie’seyesgrowwide,hissmileevenbigger.
“Ah,anAussie,niiiiiiiiiice,”hedrawls,thentakesintherestofus.“Andbeautifulladies.Man,thisisevenbetterthanI’dhoped.”
Great,he’sfuckingsmarmy.
“I’mLux,”Itellhim.“Thisismyboyfriend,Nico,andthisisBrittanyandAmma.”
“AndthisisEliza,mylovelylady,”Jakesays,loopinganarmaroundEliza’swaistandpullingherforward.“So,Robbie.WhatbringsyoutoMeroe?”
“Idunno,”Robbiereplies,leaningdowntoscratchatabugbiteonhisshin.“GuessIjustwantedtoseesomeshitoffthebeatenpath,youknow?”Thatquickgrinagain,showinglotsofteeth.“Afriendstoppedbyhereafewyearsagoonasail,saiditwascoolasfuck,andIthoughtI’dcheckitoutmyself.”Heshrugshappily.“Andgottasay,seemslikehewasright.Thisplaceisprettyfuckingrad.”
NoddingatNico,headds,“Sickbandana,man.”
There’ssomethingaboutthisguythatIimmediatelydonotlike.Somethingthatmakesmemorethanalittlenervous.HeremindsmeofguyswegotattheCovesometimes,theoneswhoonlyeverorderedPabstBlueRibbonandhadeyesthatslidoverourbarelegslikeslime.
“IsailedoutofPapeete,”hecontinues.“HeadingforHawaiieventually,Iguess,butyouknowhowitis.”
NowhehasJake’sandNico’sattention.“Tahiti?”Nicoasks,steppingforward.“Fuck,man,that’salotofsailingonyourown.”
Robbiethrowshisarmsoutagain.“Whatislifeifnottoliveit,right?”
IcatchEliza’seye,seethewaythecornerofhermouthkicksupjustthelittlestbit.Likeme,she’snotfeelingthisguy’sentire…vibe,andIleanclosetoBrittany.
“LoveaguywhosoundslikeaninspirationalInstaaccount,”Iwhisper.
Shesnorts,andIseeAmmacutasharpglanceinourdirection.
“So!”Robbieclapsabruptly.“Y’allgotanythingtoeat?BecauseI’mnotgonnalie,I’mfuckingstarving.”
IT’SLIKEAREPEATOFourfirstnightonMeroe.There’sgoodfood—ElizaandBrittanycookedtogetherintheAzureSky’slittlekitchen—goodwine,toomuchofboth,butnowthere’sthisnewpersoninourmidst,shirtlessandskinny,smellinglikesaltwaterandenginegreaseandtoomuchtimealone.
Ireallydon’tlikehim.
Itfeelsunfair,likehatingakickedpuppyorsomething,butasIwatchRobbieshovelJakeandEliza’sfoodintohismouthanddownanentirebottleofsauvignonblanc,Iwishwecouldgobacktojustafewhoursago,whenitwasjustthesixofus.
“Thisplacehasareallyfucked-uphistory,right?”Robbiesays.He’sstillholdingthebottleofwinebyitsneck,hisknucklesredandraw,andthefirelightmakesstrangeshadowsunderhischeekbones,hiseyes.“Sailorseatingeachotherandshit?”
“Sailorswerewreckedhere,”Isay,reachingintothecoolerforafreshbottleofwine.It’salittleembarrassinghowquicklyI’vegottenusedtotreatingJakeandEliza’sprovisionslikethey’reours.Sure,we’veprovidedajarofpeanutbutterandtheoccasionalbeer,butallthegoodshitisJakeandEliza’s.Ihavethefleetingthoughtthatweshouldoffertopayforwhatwe’vebeeneating,beforeIrememberthatofthefourofusontheSusannah,I’mcertainlynottheonewiththatkindofmoney.
Outsidethecircleoflightprovidedbythebonfire,thenightisdark,saveforthestarsandtheoccasionalwhiteflashofthesurfasitbreaks.IkeepmyeyesonRobbie’sasIstickinthecorkscrew.“Idon’tknowabouteatingeachother.”
Robbielaughs,aphlegmy,thicksound.“Oh,iftherewasashipwreck,therewerecannibals.Peopledowhattheygottodotosurvive,youknow?”
Helooksaroundthefire,grinning.“Wouldn’tyou?”
“Thisisgross,”Ammaannounces,gettingup,butRobbiedoesn’tseemoffended
“Yeah,itis,”heagrees,thenshrugs.“Thatshitstillhappened,though.”
“Wecan’tknow—”Brittanysays,buttomysurprise,Nicocutsheroff.
“Wedo,actually.Dude’sright.WhentheHMSMeroewreckedhere,therewerethirty-twosurvivors.Onlyeightwalkedoffthisisland.Therewasatrialandeverything.Thestuffaboutcannibalismdidn’tmakeitintothepapers,butthere’snodoubttheywouldn’thavemadeitwithouteatingtheonesthatdied.”Hegrins,tearingapartashrimpwithhisteeth.“Longpig.Apparentlytastesjustlikebarbecue.”
Mystomachchurns,andIlookatthestillhalf-fullplateoffoodinfrontofme.Itwasfish,grilledandsavoryandnothingatalllikewhatNico’stalkingabout,butIknowIcan’tstomachanymorefoodtonight.
“Butmaybetheywerejust…Idon’tknow,strongerorsomething.Tougher.”
ThatmakesRobbielaughagain,onlythistime,itsoundsmoremenacing.“Oh,theyweretougher,”heagrees.“Placelikethis,itdoesthingstopeople.Revealswhoyoureallyare,whenyoustripallthebullshitaway.”
Hegivesmethatgrinagain,histeethyellowedandslightlycrooked.
“That’swhytheysurvived.”
SIXTEEN
Iwakeuptooearlythenextmorning,thelightinthecabinasoftlilacasIgentlydisentanglemyselffromNico,slippingonthestill-dampswimsuitIhavehangingononeofthekitchencabinetdoors.
Thewholemaincabinisabitofamess,IrealizeasIlookaround,andIwonderifIshouldcomebacklaterthisafternoonandstraightenupabit.WespendsomuchtimeontheislandlatelythattheSusannah,whichwassupposedtobeourhomebase,isstartingtofeelmorelikeastagingarea.Theplacewherewesleepandgetdressedandoccasionallygrabfood,butnothingmore.
WhenIstepoutontothedeck,thesunisjustrising,turningboththeskyandwatertheprettiestshadesofpinkandorange,andIgrinasIleapoverthesideoftheboat,thewaterslidingoverme,warmandsalty.
Theswimtoshoretakesjustafewminutes,andIimmediatelyheadforthelittlelean-toJakesetuptheotherday.Therearesomebooksinthere,courtesyofmycollection,afewtowels,andusuallysomeproteinbars—anotheroneoftheSusannah’sfewcontributionstothesharedrations.
ButasIwalkuptheslightrisetotheedgeofthetrees,Iseesomeonehasalreadybeatenmethere.
“Morning!”Robbiecalls.He’sclaimedoneofEliza’sbatikblankets,hisarmsaroundhisskinnyknees,oneoftheproteinbarsinhishand,spillingcrumbs.There’salsoanopenbottleofbeernexttohim,half-full.
“Tellyouwhat,can’tbeatabreakfastbeerandgettingtowatchabeautifulwomancomeoutofthewater.”
Hesaysiteasily,histonefriendly,butIstilldon’tlikeit,don’tlikethewayhiseyesskateoverme,admiring.
Butit’shisfirstfulldayhere,andmaybehe’sjustoneofthoseguys,thetypethatdoesn’tevenrealizethey’rebeingcreepy.ImakemyselfsmileasIreply,“Can’tsayI’veeverhadabreakfastbeer.”
“Ohgirl,bestthinginthefuckingworld,”hesays,offeringmeasipfromhisbottle.“Beerfirstthinginthemorningsetsthetone,youknow.Themotherfuckingtoneforyourwholeday.”
Ishakemyheadattheofferedbottle.
“No,thanks.”
“Yourloss,”hesayscheerfully,takinganotherdrinkandthenabiteoftheproteinbar.Inoticetherearetwootheremptywrappersdiscardednexttohimandonceagainfightdownmyirritation.
Still,IhearthesharpnessinmytonewhenIask,“Sohowlongareyouplanningonstaying?”
Heshrugs.“Dunno,man.Gonnaseewhichwaythewindblows,youknow?”
Mouthfull,hegestureswithwhat’sleftofhis—our—proteinbarbackatthejungle.“OrmaybeI’lljustfindaplacetocampout.Livethedreamforever.”
Whenheflasheshisteethatmethistime,there’sachunkofdriedblueberrystuckthere,andIfeelmystomachrollalittle.
“What,livehere?”Iask,reachingpasthimintotheshelterforabottleofwater.It’swarmandtasteslikechemicals,butitstillhelps.
Robbienods.“Peoplehave.Like,IreadthisonestoryaboutadudewhowasstationedhereinWorldWarII.Warended,hedidn’tfeellikegoingback.Mybuddywhostoppedbyhereacoupleofyearsagosaidhefoundthedude’sshackinthejungle.Dudewaslonggone,obviously.Fuckerwouldbe,like,ninetyorsomethingbynow.Buthedidit.Hedidthedamnthing!”
Anotherchortle,andRobbieleansbackonhiselbows.“MaybeI’lldothedamnthing,too.”
IthinkofspendingourlastweekherewithRobbieandhavetofighttokeepmyselffromgrimacing.
“Andhewasn’ttheonlyone,”Robbiecontinues,lookingatme.“Nottheonlyonewhosaid,‘tohellwithit,’andsetuppermanentcamp.TheguyIknewwhocamehere,Chipper,hesaidhewassuretherewassomeoneelselivingontheisland.Hekepthearingnoises,andfinding,like,trapsinthetreesandshit.”
“Noonecouldsurviveherethatlong,”Isay,evenasIremembertheskullattheairstrip,theconcreteproofthatpeoplehadlived,anddied,onMeroe.“Notwithoutreplenishingsupplies.”
Robbieshrugs.“Easy-peasy,girlie.SailbacktoHawaii,reload.Thenyoucomerightbackhere,keeplivin’thedream.”
Hespreadshisarmswidelikehedidlastnight,takinginalloftheisland,andIlookpasthimatthelineoftrees,thedarknessofthejungle.
Forthepastweek,it’sfeltlikewe’vehadthisplacealltoourselves,ourownprivateparadise.
ButRobbieisright.Ifyouhadaboat,youcouldstayhereindefinitely.
TheideathatRobbiemightnotbetheonlypersonwe’vebeensharingtheislandwithsendsashudderthroughme,andI’mgratefulwhenIhearsomeonecall,“Lux!”
It’sJake,makinghiswayupthebeach.Lookingfartherdowntheshoreline,Icanseethedinghypulleduponthesand.
He’swearingapairoffadedredtrunksandsomeboatshoes,andasheapproaches,IseehisgazeslidetoRobbie.
“Hey,there,”hesays,friendlyenough,butthesmiledoesn’treachhiseyes.
“Heyyourself!”Robbiecallsback,thenstandsup,brushingthesandoffhisshorts.“Notcreepingonyourlady,promise,”hesays,andIlookoverathimsharply,tryingtofigureoutifhe’sfuckingwithus.
“Nothislady,”IsayevenasJakesays,“Mygirl’sstillontheboat.”
Robbielooksbackandforthbetweenus,thenchuckles,shakinghishead.“Right,right,she’swiththeotherguy,thedudewiththe—”Hemakesagestureoverhisbicep,indicating,Iguess,Nico’stattoo.“Andyourladyisblond.It’sallcomingbacktomenow.”
Jakegivesmeawink,andIfeelmyselfflushalittle.Justthesuggestionofbeing“hisgirl”makesmefeel…embarrassed?Self-conscious?It’slikehavingasexdreamaboutafriendoracoworker.Youmightnothavebeenintothembefore,butsuddenlythey’verearedupinyourmindasanoption.
“AtleasthethoughtIhadexcellenttaste,”Jakeoffers,makingmelaugh.
Thenhejerkshishead.“Comeon,Lux,”hesays.“Iwanttoshowyousomething.”
JAKETAKESMEFARTHERDOWNthebeach,pastthedinghy,andweroundacornerintoasmallcove,thebeachrisingupinasmallcliffoverthewater.It’sonlyaboutfiveorsixfeetup,butwescramble,slippingandsliding,andwhenJakereachesdowntotakemyhand,Ilethim,hispalmwarmagainstmine.
TheimageofhimandElizaatthepoolflashesthroughmymindagain,andmyentirebodygoeshotwithit,makingmestumbleaswecrestthelittleridge.
“Youokay?”heasks,glancingbackatme,andInod,makingmyselfsmile.
“Great,yeah.”
There’sanotheroneofEliza’sblanketsspreadoutthere,setbackagainstthetreelinesothatit’sinnaturalshade,andanothercooler,plusastackofpaperbackbooks.“ElizaandIsensedthatouroriginalspotmightgetalittlecrowded,sowedecidedtogoslightlyfartherafield,”hesays,spreadinghishandout.“Youlike?”
“Verynice,”Iagree,lookingaround.“ButwhereisEliza?”
“Offonawalkabout,”hereplies,shovinghishandsinhispockets.“Thinkshe’sgettingabitsickofme,tobehonest.”
Hesaysitlightly,butIstillfrown.
“Youguysokay?”
Jakewavesmeoff.“Oh,fine.Justbeencoopeduptogethertoolong,Isuppose.”
Ishademyeyes,lookingdownatthebeach,andasIturntotheleft,IcanseeElizafardowntheshore,herblondhairblowinginthewind.“Shesaidyou’veknowneachothersinceyouwereteenagers.”
“Mmm,”hehumsinagreement.“Firstlove.NearlyknockedmeoffmybloodyfeetwhenIranintoheragainafewmonthsback.IwasatthispubinCanberra,andthereshewas.Movingthroughthecrowd,holdingapint,likesomesortofgoddess.”Heshakeshishead,smilingatthememory.“Funnythingis,Ididn’trecognizeherstraightoff.Justthought,‘Ah,that’sabeautifulwoman,Ishouldprobablygotalktoher,’andthen…”
“ThenEliza,”Isumupandhelaughs.
“Goodsummationofmywholelife,really.‘ThenEliza.’Anyway,wepickedrightupwherewe’dleftoff,likenotimehadpassed.”
Ilookoverathimandseehe’swatchingEliza,too.“Andthenyoujust…decidedtotraveltheworldtogether?”
“Somethinglikethat,yeah,”hesays,thenlooksbackatme.“AndyouandourintrepidMr.Johannsen?”
IbrieflytellhimaboutmeetingNicoattheCove,aboutthemonthsinMaui,andhenodsasIfinish.
“Aren’tweapairofluckysods,then?Meetingpeopletotakeuponthesegloriousadventures.”
Somethingaboutthatsurprisesme.Idon’tknowwhy,butI’djustassumedthishadallbeenJake’sidea.Hegrins,nudgingmewithhiselbow.“She’sverypersuasive,myEliza.Whenshesays,‘Weshouldsailtoafuckingdesertedisland,’well.Youfindyourselfsailingtoafuckingdesertedisland.”
Icanseethat.Elizahasthatkindofenergy—she’sthesortofpersonyouwanttopleaseforwhateverreason.Maybeit’sbecauseshepresentsyouwithaversionofyourselfthatyoudesperatelywanttoliveupto.
Somethingsparklesinthesunlight,catchingmyeye,andIseethatfartherdownthetreeline,there’salineofemptybeerandwinebottlessetup.
RaisinganeyebrowatJake,Ipoint.“Youdoingthatfratguythingofcollectingempties?”
Helaughs.“Notexactly.”
There’saplainblackboxmadeofheavyplasticormaybemetalsittingnexttothestackofbooks,andhegoesovertoitnow,flippingitopen.
Nestledinsideisagun.
Mymouthgoesdry.
I’veneveractuallyseenagunupclosebefore.Nicohasaflaregunofcourse,lockedinabrightorange-and-whiteboxbackinthecabin,butthisistherealdeal,asleek,lethalthingofdarkmetal,andwhenJakeseesmyface,helaughsagain.
“Trustme,petal,youdon’twanttobeoutinthemiddleofnowhereandnothaveoneofthesethings.AlthoughIamnotusingitforanythingmoreinterestingthanshootingbottles.”
Heholdsituptome.
“Wannatry?”
Idon’tlikeguns,haveneverseentheneedforone,butIlookoverintothedarknessofthetrees,rememberingwhatRobbiesaidaboutsomeonelivinghere.
“Iguess?”Isay.ThenextthingIknow,it’sinmyhand,warmandheavy,andJakeisstandingbehindme,showingmehowhightoliftmyarms,howtowidenmystance.
“Ithasahellofakickbackifyou’renotreadyforit,”hesays,“sobesureyou’reassteadyasyoucanbe.Eyesonthetarget,elbowsloose.There’sagirl.”
He’srightthereatmyback,hisskinwarmagainstmine,andI’msuddenlyveryawarethathe’sshirtlessandI’mjustwearingaone-piece.Butthere’snothingcreepyinhowhestands,andhekeepsarespectfuldistanceashehelpsmepositionmyarms.
“Aim,”hesays,andIpickoneofthebiggestbottles,abrightblueoneIrememberwasfilledwithRieslingjustadayorsoago.
Islidebackthehammer,myheartpoundinginmyears.
“Nowpictureit’ssomeoneyoureallyhate,andfire,”hesays.
Ilaugh,butevenashesaysit,IsuddenlyseeRobbie’sfaceinfrontofme,callingmegirlie,thatfuckingblueberryinhisteeth.
Ipullthetrigger.
BEFORE
Theydon’tgohomeafterRomeafterall.Instead,theymoveontoLondon,wheretheweatheriscooler,thenightsoutaremoreraucous,andBrittanywonderswhysheeverthoughtshewantedtoendthistripearly.
Chloehadaskedifitwascoolifshecame,too,asBrittanyhadhopedshewould.Ammaagreed—thoughBrittanysawthewayhereyeshardenedandherjawtightenedassherepliedflatly,“That’sagreatidea.”
TheykickofftheirfirstnightinLondonatapub,ofcourse.Ithassomestupidname—somethingclichédandobviousliketheCrownedStag—andthewallsaredark,coveredinpaintingsofmeninnicecoatskillingperfectlyinnocentanimals.WhileAmmaisatthebar,orderingmoredrinks,Chloeslipsherhandintosomeguy’sjacket,pullsoutawadofbills,andhandsittoBrittany.
Foramoment,Brittanyisstunned.
Youcan’tjustrobpeople.Thisispickpocketing,likethey’reorphansinCharlesDickensorsomeshit,butChloejustwinksather,andbeforeshecanstopherself,Brittanystuffsthecashintoherpurse.
Sheliesawakeinthehostelthatnight,waiting—forsirensormenwithflashlightstoburstin,toturnherpurseupsidedownuntilthemoneyfallsout.She’llconfesseverything,she’lltellthemshewasstupidandmadeahugemistake.
Butitneverhappens.Andthenextmorning,shetreatsChloeandAmmabothtoafullEnglishbreakfastwiththosestolenpounds,andnoonesaysshittoher,noonelookstwice,anditfeels…good.Harmless.
It’sstrangetohaveasecretwithChloe,insteadofwithAmma,butAmmawouldn’tunderstand.Ammahadlostherboyfriend,whichhurt,Brittanyknew,butitwasn’tthesamethingashavingyourwholefamilywipedout.
She’dnevertoldAmmathefullstory.HowsomeguywiththeridiculousnameofSterlingNorthcutthadhadtoomuchtodrinkonspringbreak,gotbehindthewheelofamassiveSuburbanhe’drented,andcrossedthedoubleline,plowingintothesensiblePriusBrittany’sfatherhadboughttheyearbefore.
SomeonehadtakenBrittany’sfamilyfromherwiththeirstupid,recklesschoices.Someonewho’dlookedalotlikethatUSCassholesittingatthatbarinTrastevere,andtheideathatChloemight’vehurthim,evenalittlebit,hadfilledherwithafiercesenseofsatisfaction.
Fuckthoseguys,she’dthought.Allofthem.Withtoomuchmoneyandtoofewresponsibilitiesandnofuckingconscience.
Theworldgavethoseguysenough.Whatwastheharmintakingsomeback?
Besides,ifshecouldkeepdoingthis,shemightneverhavetogohome.Neverhavetofigureouthowtoliveintheafter.
AFTERJUSTAFEWDAYSintheUK,Chloehasanewplan.
“Australia?”
BrittanyissittingwithChloeintheirroomatthehostel.Ammahasgonetousethelittleinternetcafénearthetrainstation,sayingshehadsomeemailstosend,butBrittanyknowsshecould’vedonethatonherphone,andshewondersifherfriendjustneededabreak.
SometimesBrittanyfeelssheneedsabreakfromAmma.Thelongerthistripstretcheson,themoreshe’sremindedthatAmmaisnotabelovedbestiefromcollegelikethey’vetriedtopretend.Ammaisjustapersonwhoalsohadaterriblethinghappentoher,andnowthey’restucktogether,eventhoughtheyhavenothingelseincommon.
Brittanydoesn’thavethatmuchincommonwithChloe,either,ifshe’shonest,butChloeiseasier,morefuntobearound.
Chloeisnotaconstantreminderofwhathappened.
Andnow,shewantsBrittanytojoinherinAustralia.
Shereachesout,pushingBrittany’sknee.“Don’tyouwanttoseeit?”
Brittanydoes.She’slovedEurope,butAustraliawouldbearealadventure.Somewhereshe’dneverevendreamedofgoing.
“You’vestillgotplentyofmoney,right?”
Theyhaven’ttalkedaboutBrittany’smoneybefore.Nothowmuchofitshehas,nothowmuchofitshe’sspent.Eventually,Brittanyknows,she’llhavetotellChloeaboutit.Herparents,theaccident.ThesettlementfrombothinsuranceandSterlingNorthcutt’sfamily.
Butfornow,shejustnods.“Yeah.”
“Well,thereyougo!”saysChloe,grinning.“Andifmoneybecomesanissue,wecanstaywithmyfriends,orfindothercheaphostels.Ipromiseyou,itcantotallybedone.”
Andthenshereachesforherbag,pullingoutawadofpaperbills.“Andofcourse,there’salwaysthebrocircuit.”
BrittanyreachesoverandtakesChloe’shand,thehandholdingallthosebills.Theycrunchslightlyunderherfingers,andshefeelsherheartliftattheideathatthiscancontinue,thattheideaof“home”couldkeeprecedingfurtherandfurtherintothedistance.
“Let’sgo.”
NOW
SEVENTEEN
Robbiehasbeenherefourdays.
Ikeepexpectingtowakeuponemorninganddiscoverhisboatisgone,thathe’smovedontowhateverisnextforhim.Butno,everyday,thereitsits,theridiculouslynamedLastDancewithMaryJane.
Everyday,thereheis.
Thesecondday,thedayJaketookmeshooting,Robbiesatonapatchofsandandspenthourshackingawayatapieceofdriftwoodwithabentanddull-lookingpocketknife.Thatafternoon,hedisappearedintothejungle,abeat-upblackcanvasbagslungoveroneshoulder.
Thethirdday,heannouncedhewasgoingfishing,andstoodoutintheshallowswithalinetiedtoaViennasausage.
“Stupidbugger,”Jakesaysfromhisspotonthebeach,andNicoleanspasthimtoseewhatRobbieisdoing.
“Mate!”Jakecallsout.“Don’teatanythingyoucatch!”
“Whyshouldn’the?”Nicoasks,andJakelooksoverathim.
“Bunchof’emherearetoxicasfuck.Killyoudeadinacoupleofhoursifyoueat’em.”Histeethflashinaquicksmile.“AnotheroneofMeroe’slittletreats.Surprisedyoudidn’tknow.”
SomethingflashesacrossNico’sface,gonebeforeIcanidentifyit.
Butitdoesn’tmatterbecauseRobbiedoesn’tcatchanything.
Onthefourthday,thebeachisemptywhenweallswimover,andIbreatheanaudiblesighofreliefaswesetupcampinouroriginallean-to.
“Youmustbecompletelyshitatcards,”Jaketeases,asIsituatemyselfonablanket.He’swearingapairofblue-and-white-stripedtrunkstoday,shorterandmorefittedthantheboardshortsNicousuallywears,thehaironhislegsgoldenandcurlinginthesunlight.
Iblush.“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Everythingyou’rethinkingisclearonyourface.Forexample,Icantellthatyou’reintenselygratefulournewfriendhasn’tmadeanappearanceyettoday.”
“Yetisthekeywordthere,”Brittanysaysassheliesdownnexttome,adjustinghersunglasses.“Mybetishe’snotleavingbeforewedo.”
“Well,yeah.Firstnightwerolledoutanentirefeastforhim,whatdoyouexpect?”
That’sAmma,sittingonBrittany’sotherside.She’spulledoutthepaperbackthatJakehadbeenreadingwhenwefirstarrived,andIrealizeit’saspythriller,silhouettedfiguresrunningacrossadarkbluebackground.
“Werolledoutafeastforyou,too,”Elizasayswithaslightedgeinhervoice.Ican’tblameher—Amma’sneverbeenanythingbutborderlinerudetoEliza,nomatterhowniceElizaisinreturn.
“Yeah,butweobviouslyweren’tfreeloadingcreeps,”Ammareplies.
“Bitharsh,that,”Jakesaysmildly,lookingbackouttosea.
WeallsitinslightlyawkwardsilencebeforeElizasays,“Lux,darling,wouldyoubeanabsolutelegendandgobacktotheAzureSky?Sinceourfriendisnotoutandabouttoday,IthinkI’llbreakopenthegoodwine.Youknowwhereitis,right?”
Inod,gettingupanddustingthesandoffthebacksofmylegs.TheAzureSky’sdinghyisuponthebeach,andIeasilymaneuveritbackintothewater,pointingittowardthecatamaran.IwaveatNicoaswepass.
Asalways,I’mstruckbyhowcleaneverythingisaboardtheAzureSky,howsleekandneatthedeckis.Thelongerwe’remooredhere,themoreraggedtheSusannahseemstobecome,herdecklitteredwithdamptowels,pairsofshoes,sparelines
Islideopenthedoortothemaincabin.
Andfreeze.
Robbieisstandingthere,hisbacktome,thelizardtattooonhisshoulderleeringatme.He’sgothishandsonhishipsashelooksatsomethingbythesink,andthecabinisfloodedbyhisscent.Sweat,salt,mildewedlaundry…
“Whatareyoudoing?”
Hewhirlsaround,hisexpressiontotallyclosedoffforjustasplitsecondbeforeitonceagaindissolvesintothatgoofygrin.“Lux!”hesays.“Justcheckingshitout,youknow.Seeinghowtheotherhalflives.”
Herunsahandovertheteakcabinetsoverhead,whistlingthroughhisteeth.“Gottasay,theotherhalflivesright.”
“Youshouldn’tbehere,”Isay,myvoicefaltering,hatingthatIsoundlikeateacherorsomething,scoldingakidforbeingoutofclass.
Hisgrindoesn’tfade,buthiseyesseemtohardenashesays,“Areyousupposedtobehere?Prettysurethisisn’tyourboat.”
“Right,butElizaactuallysentmeoverheretogetsomethingforher.”
“JakeandEliiiiiza,”Robbiedrawls,leaningonehipagainstthecounter.“Goodfriendsofyours,huh?Bosombuddies?”
Myfeetareitchywiththeneedtorun,myskintinglingwithcoldsweat,butIstandmyground,armsfoldedovermychest,chinraised.“I’mjustsaying,don’tcomeaboardsomeone’sboatwithoutpermission.”
“Ifyouthinkmedoingalittlesnoopingistheworstcrimehappeningaroundhere,yougotanotherthinkcoming,babygirl.”
“Don’tcallmethat,”Isnap,feelingenragedandpanicky.IfIshouted,theotherswouldprobablyhearme,buthowquicklycouldtheygethere?
“Justtryingtobeafriend,”hesayswithashrug.“Orhell,maybeyoualreadyknowhowpeoplelikethathaveaboatlikethis.”
“Ithinkyouneedtoleave,”Isayfirmly.
Hissmileslipsintosomethingharder,crueler.“MeroeIslandiscursed,youknowthat,right?Youandyourfriendsthinkyou’rehavingagoodtime,makin’contentforInstagramorwhateveritisthefucky’alldo,butitain’tthekindofplaceforthat.”
“You’retheonewhowantstostayonit,”Iremindhim,thinkingofthatfirstnight,hisbuddythathadstayedhereforgodknowshowlong.
“’CauseIgetwhatkindofplacethisis.Butyouandyourfriends?Thisplaceisgonnasnapyouup.”Hebringshisteethtogetherwithahardclack,startlingmesothatInearlytriponthestepsbehindme.
Thatmakeshimlaugh,andit’sthepleasurethathe’sclearlytakingfromfrighteningmethatmakesmelooktowardtheknifeonthetablenexttome.
It’sforshuckingoysters—notparticularlydeadly—butIsnatchitupanyway,surgingforwarduntilthetiphoversjustbesideRobbie’seye.
Thatlaughdiesinhisthroatasheholdsupbothhands.“Alrightnow,babygirl.”
“Isaiddon’tcallmethat.”
Iedgetheknifecloser,mybreathscomingfast.Weareinthemiddleofnowhere.Therearenoruleshere,nopolicetocall,nopassportchecks.IfIkilledthisman,threwhisbodyintotheocean,sunkhisboat—whowouldeverknow?
Therealizationisalmostdizzying.IspentmonthsonMauidreamingofthefreedomoftheopenseas,butIneverreallyconsidereditsdarkerside.Outhere,we’reuntethered.Whichmeanswecandoanything.
Icoulddoanything.
“Look,Ididn’tmeantoscareyou,”Robbiesaysnow,backingaway.
Iseehisdarkeyesflickingnervouslybetweentheknifeandmyexpression.
He’safraidofme.
Ilowertheblade,nodding.“Good.”
AsIstepback,heshakeshishead.“Whoknewyouhadthatinyou,girl?Tellme,whichoneofthosefuckerswouldyoueatfirst?”
Hejerkshisheadtowardthebeach,towardJakeandElizaandNicoandAmmaandBrittany,andI’msicktomystomachallofasudden,wishingIwereanywherebuthere.
“Fuckyou,”Isay,butit’sweak,andhejustlaughsagain.
“Noshame,littlegirl,noshame.I’mjustsaying,whenitcomestobeatingMeroe,I’dputmymoneyonyoueverytime.”
Withthat,hepushespastme,headingupthestairs,andIhearasplashashedivesovertheside.
I’mstillshaking,andIalmostdropthebottleofwineIpulloutofthefridge.AsIfinallyreemergeonthedeck,IseeJakeandElizastandingontheshore,lookingtowardtheboat.Theymust’veseenRobbieondeck,andIliftahand,lettingthemknoweverythingisokaybeforeclimbingbackdownintothedinghy.
Robbieisstillthere,treadingwaterandlookingupatthesky,andwhenImotorpasthim,heactuallysmilesatmeagain,likenothinghappened.
Ilookaway,keepingmygazeonthebeach.
Jake,Eliza,andNicoarewaitingformeintheshallows.
“Whywasthatassholeonourboat?”Jakeasks.He’sgothissunglassespushedup,hiseyesasblueastheskyabove,buthisexpressionisfurious.I’veneverseenhimlikethisbefore,andIshakemyhead.
“Hewassnoopingaround.”
“Motherfucker,”Jakemutters,lookingoveratEliza,andnowthatI’mbackonthebeach,nowthatI’msafe,IsuddenlyrememberRobbie’swords—–whatthosetwomustbedoingtohaveaboatlikethat.
Itwasbullshit,justacreepwhowastryingtofuckwithme.
Jaketurns,stridingbacktoourlean-to.Hefishesaroundinthereforasecond,andthenhestraightensup,headingbacktowardus.Sunlightflashingoffmetal.
Thegun.
“Whoa,man,”Nicosays.He’sstillgotonehandonmyelbow,steadyingme.“Isn’tthatalittleintense?”
“I’mjustgoingtotalktohim,”Jakesays,buthismouthissetinathin,hardline.
“Jake,forfuck’ssake,”Elizasays,andhelooksoverathersharply.
“What?Doyouwanthimsnoopingaroundinthere,Eliza?Reallythinkaboutthatbeforeyouanswer.”
“Idon’t,”shesnapsback,“butIalsothinkthismachoshitisunnecessaryandfranklyalittleembarrassing.”
Jakescoffsatthat.“Terriblysorrytoembarrassyou,darling.Howwillyouevercope?”
“Canyoutwocutitout?”
That’sAmmanow,herhandsfistedathersides,hergazedartingbetweentheshoreandtherestofus.“He’scoming.”
Robbieismakinghiswayintotheshallowsnow,waterrunningoffhisskinnybody,hiscutoffsdarkwithit,andBrittanystepsclosertome.
“Didhesayanythingtoyou?”sheasks.“Ontheboat?”
Idon’tknowwhyIdon’ttellher—oranyofthem—alltheshithesaid.MaybeIdon’twantthistensesituationtoescalatemorethanitalreadyhas.Andit’snotlikehehurtmeoranything.Iheldmyown,andevennow,Irememberhowithadfelt,holdingthatknifeonhim.Seeingthatlittlestbitoffearinhiseyes.
Idon’twanttotellthemthatpart,either.
Ishakemyhead.“Nothingimportant.”
Robbieisinfrontofusnow,hishandsonhiships,thatsamegrinhealwayswearsonhisface.
“Y’allhavingapartywithoutme?”heasks,andJakestepsforward.
“Whatwereyoudoingonmyboat?”heasks,andRobbie’sgrinneverslips.Hejustshrugs.
“Checkingshitout.Ithoughtthiswasawholemicasaessucasascene,youknow?”Hegesturesatallofus,flingingonehandtowardthelean-to.
“Well,it’snot,”Jakesays,“andifIseeyouonmyboatagain—”
“You’regonnawhat?GoallCrocodileDundeeonme?”
HefeintsaquickseriesofpunchesinJake’sdirection,startlingallofus.Robbiejustlaughs,butNico’svoiceislowandmenacingashesays,“Comeon,man.”
Jakedoesn’tflinch.Heraisestheguncalmly,itsbarreljustafewinchesfromRobbie’sforehead.
“Jake!”Elizabarks,andBrittanygrabsmyarm,pullingbothofusevenfartherawayfromthescene.
Robbieisstillsmiling,buthiseyesareveryhardnow.“Easy,man,”hesays.“Thisain’tLordoftheFlies,andIsureasfuckain’tPiggy.”
“Thinkyou’veoverstayedyourwelcome,mate,”Jakesays,histonelight,buthisarmsteadyasheholdsthegunonRobbie.WasitjustacoupleofdaysagothatIwasholdingthatgun?ThatIwasshootingemptywinebottlesandlaughing?
Idon’tfeellikelaughingnow.
Ammaispale,andNicostillhasonehandraised,likeheplanstoleapinandstopthisatanymoment,butRobbieandJakestayfocusedoneachother,Robbie’shandsopeningandclosingathissides,fingersflexing.
“Thatso?”heasks,thenshakeshishead,scrubbingonehandoverhisshornhair.“Welp,inthatcase,guessI’llmoveon.”
“Goodidea.”
Jakelowersthegun,andIthinkweallbreatheasighofrelief.
Robbieturnsasiftogo,andIcanalreadypicturehimswimmingback,pullinghisropybodyuptheladderontohisboatandsailingaway,leavingusthewaywewere.
Butthenhesuddenlyturnsagain,soquickhe’smovingbeforewecanreact,shoulderingpastJake,hardenoughtosendhimstaggeringbackacoupleofsteps,andthenRobbieiscrashingthroughthejungle.
There’sasharpcrack,loudenoughandcloseenoughthatIactuallyshriek,myhandsgoinguptomyearsevenasIhearElizasay,“JesusfuckingChrist!”
Jakeshothim,heshotRobbie,hekilledhim,andwealljuststoodhereandwatchedit,mybrainwhimpersonaloop,butthere’snoscreamandIcanstillhearRobbiemovingthroughthetreeseventhoughthesoundsaregettingfainter.
Andthenit’squiet,leavingallofusstaringatthespotwhereRobbiedisappeared,intothejunglethat’sswallowedhimup.
EIGHTEEN
“Wherethefuckishe?”
Iwhisperthewordsinthedarknessofthecabin,Nicocurledupbesideme.Allafternoon,allevening,thesixofushadwaitedonthebeach,assumingRobbiewouldcomeback.Hisboatwasstillfloatingthere,afterall,nearours,andI’vebeenlyinghereawakeforhours,listening.
Sofar,nothing.
Jakeisstillonthebeach,Iknow.Keepingwatch.Thethoughtshouldbecomforting,butit’snot,andevenhereontheSusannah,Ifeeljumpyandonedge.IstillrememberthathardlookinRobbie’seyes,thesnapofhisteethashe’dsteppedclosertome.
“Hecouldjustbehidingoutinthejungle,Iguess?”IsayeventhoughNicohasn’treplied.“Hetalkedaboutthat,remember?Livinghereandshit?”
“Thenlethim,Lux.Whocares?”Nicosaysthewordsonasigh,rollingoverontohisback,andIshiftsothatIcanlookathimmoreclearly.
“Icare!”Ihiss.“Hecouldjustpopoutofthetreesatanytime,totallycatchusoffguard.Whoknowswhatthehellhewoulddo?”
“Look,he’safuckingweirdo,noargumentthere,”Nicosays.“Buthe’sharmless,Lux.Heranintothejunglewithnothingonhimbutthoserattyfuckingshorts.Jake’stheonewithafuckinggun.Dude’sprobablyjustwaitingforustoclearoutsohecangobacktohisboatwithoutgettingshot.”
“Soitdoesn’tworryyouatallthathegotsuperweirdwithme,andisnowhidingsomewhereonthisisland?”I’vealwaysknownNicoislaid-back,notthekindofguytofretoverthings.ButI’dtoldhimwhatRobbiehadsaidtomeaboardtheAzureSky,toldhimhowfreakedoutIwas.
Nowhereachesup,scrubbingahandoverhisface.“Ijustthinkyou’reoverestimatinghowdangerousthatguyactuallyis,that’sall.”
Droppinghishand,heturnstolookatme.“Imean,Ammawassayingearlierthatshethinksshecouldtakethedudeinafight,andsheweighslikeninetypounds.”
I’dseenhimandAmmatalkingearlieratthebowoftheSusannah,AmmalaughingatsomethingNicosaid,Nicogrinningather,andthoughtitwasweirdtheywerebeingsocasualafterwhathappened.NowIknowtheywerejokingaboutthis,andthethoughtmakesmebitemylipbeforeIsaysomethingcatty.
Nicoreachesoutthen,hishandskimmingdownmyarm.“Iknowitwasscary,babe,”hesays.“AndI’msorry.Butseriously,Idon’twantyoulyingawakeatnight,thinkingthisdudeistheboogeyman.”
“That’snotwhatI’mdoing,”Iinsist,shakinghishandoff.“AndIdon’tappreciateyour,‘Oh,I’mtoocooltoworryaboutthings,’shitrightnow.Notaboutthis.”
I’mnotsureI’veeverbeenmadatNico.Notreally,honestlyangry,buthereweare,andIhavenoideahowhe’llreact.
Hesighs,rollingovertofaceme,proppinghisheadupinhishand.“Lux,”hesays,pushingmyhairoutofmyfacewithhisfreehand.“Canwenotdothis?”
BeforeIcanreply,heleansover,brushinghislipsovermine,andeventhoughI’mstillmad,stillworried,it’seasytorespond,toopenmymouthtohimandlethimreallykissme,hishandnowcominguptoslideupmyribcage,hotagainstmyskin.
“Wecan’t,”IwhisperwhenhishandmovestothewaistbandoftheshortsI’mwearingtosleepin.“BrittanyandAmma…”
Nicogroanssoftly,droppinghisforeheadtomine.“Wecouldbequiet,”hewhispers,smiling,andIshakemyhead.
“I’dfeeltooweird.”
“AndIfeelweirdthatIhaven’ttouchedyouindays,”hemurmurs,hisnosetracingaticklishpathovermycheek.
Apartofmerealizesthatthisissomekindofattemptatdistractingme,butsinceit’sworking,Idon’treallycare.
“Notexactlyhowweplannedourfirstbigsailgoing,isit?”IaskasIscratchmynailsgentlyoverhiscollarbone.
“Therewillbeothertrips,”hereplies.“Privateones,justyouandme.Tahiti.”Hekissesthetipofmynose.“Fiji.”Anotherkiss.“Anywhereyouwanttogo.”
“Ithinkthat’saBeachBoyssong,”Iwhisperback,makinghimchuckle,andeventhoughthere’sstillthatworryinthebackofmymind,thatconstantbuzzaboutRobbieandwhereheis,inthismoment,Icanforgetallofthat.
Justforalittlebit.
“Well,”Iwhisper,lettingmyhandrestonthebackofhisneck,“ifyoupromisetobereallyquiet…”
“I’mnottheonewehavetoworryabout,”hereplies,hislegnudgingmythighsapartashepullsmecloser.
Nicokissesmeagain,andIarchupagainsthim,losingmyselfinthesensationofhisskinonmine,thetasteofhismouth,thescratchofhisstubble.
I’vejuststartedmovingmyhanddownhischestwhenthere’sasound.
Thedoortothecabincreaksopen,andIlookoverNico’sshouldertoseeasilhouettethere.
Amma.
“Sorry,”shewhispersinthedarkness,herhandcomingouttosteadyherselfasshemakesherwayintothemaincabin.“Neededsomewater.”
Idoubtshecanseemuchinthedarknessofthecabin,butIstillscootawayfromNicowithabarelysuppressedsighofirritation.
“Noworries,”hereplies,cheerfulasever,andAmmamakesherwayovertothelittlefridgebeneaththesink.
Onceshe’sgotherbottleandtiptoedherwaybackacrosstothecabin,Nicoturnsagaintome,butIputahandonhischest,shakingmyhead.
“Toldyou,”Iwhisper.“Tooweird.”
Heflopsontohisbackwithamuttered,“Shit.”
Itakehishand,lacinghisfingersthroughmine.
“Tomorrow,”Isay.“We’llfindsometimetomorrow.”
BUTTHENEXTDAY,PRIVACYishardtofind.JakeandElizaarealreadyonthebeachwhenwegetthere,andperhapsbecausethey’restillthinkingaboutRobbie,BrittanyandAmmaarestickingclose.
“Anysignofthedude?”NicoasksJake,whoshakeshishead.
“Nothing.Probablycampingoutinthejungle,doinghisRobinsonCrusoething.”
Ilookoutatthetreespasthisshoulder,frowning.
“So,we’rejustnotgoingtoworryabouthim?”Iask,andJakefollowsmygaze,liftinghischinslightly.
“Didn’tsaythat.Butshortofsendingoutsomekindofhuntingpartyforhim,I’mnotsurewhatelsethereistodo.”
He’ssmilingashesaysit,butIrememberthecalmwayhe’dliftedthatguntoRobbie’sheadyesterday,thecrackoftheshotasRobbiehaddartedintothetrees.
WhatifJakehadhithim?Notkilledhim,butjustclippedhim.Whatifwe’dheardRobbiescream,seenhisbloodonthesand?Whatthefuckwouldwehavedonethen?
Wrappingmyarmsaroundmyself,Iturnaway,butthere’sanitchyspotbetweenmyshoulderblades,likesomeoneiswatchingme,andIknowI’mgoingtofeelthatwayuntilRobbieeithershowsupandleaves,oruntilweleave.
Which,Irealizewithalittlesurprise,isonlyafewdaysawaynow.
LikealotofthingsonMeroe,timehasstartedtofeel…slippery.Pliantinawayitdoesn’tbackhome.
Brittanyhasjoinedusnow,herpurpleone-piecebrightagainstthebluewaterbehindher.“Ahuntingparty,”sherepeats,shakingherheadbutsmiling.“God,canyouimagine?AllofustrekkingthroughthejungletokillRobbie?HowveryLost.”
Jakelaughs,andevenNicosmilesabit,buttheimageistoocleartome,tooeasytosee.Icanpracticallyfeelthesweatgatheringbehindmyknees,betweenmybreasts,onmylowerback,canfeeltheprickleoffearbutalsotheadrenalineI’dfeltyesterday,pullingthatfuckingoysterknifeonhim.
Weshould,Ialmostsay.Weshouldgofindhimbeforehecomesback.
Idon’tlikethatthisiswheremymindwent.Withalittlewavetotheothers,Igesturedowntowardthewater.
“Goingforaswim.”
I’malmostafraidBrittanywillasktojoinme,butinstead,shemovesfartherupthebeachtowardEliza.Iwatchassheflopsunderthetarpnexttoher,playfullythrowingonearmaroundEliza’sneckandtuggingherclose,Elizalaughingashersunglassesslip.
Brittanyislikethat,I’velearned,easywithherbodyandheraffection,butIhadn’trealizedsheandElizahadalreadybondedsomuch.
IglanceoveratAmmatoseeifshenoticed,butshe’stalkingtoNico,theirheadsclosetogether,andIturnaway,almostrunningintothewater.
It’saswarmasalways,whichisnice,butIfeellikeIcouldusethebracingshockofcoldwater.Somethingtoclearmyhead.
Iswiminaimlesscirclesforabitbeforefinallygettingout,headingforthepileoftowelswekeepupnearthetreeline.
I’vejustgrabbedonewhenIhear,“Arewecool?”
IstopandturntoseeAmmabracingonehandagainstthetrunkofapalmtree,hersunglassespushedontopofherhead,holdingherhairbackfromherface.She’snotasprettyasBrittany,butshe’sdefinitelystriking,herskingoneverytan,aconstellationoffrecklesspatteredoverthebridgeofhernose.
“What?”
Sheshrugs,crossingherarms.“Idon’tknow.I’mjustgettingavibe.LikeI’vepissedyouoffsomehow.”Holdingupahand,sheadds,“AndIrealizedafterIgotbackinbedlastnightthatImight’veinterruptedsomethingwithyouandNico,whichisawkwardasfuck.”
“Oh,it’snobigdeal,”Isay,wavingheroffevenasmyfaceheatsalittleatthememory.“Hazardofboatlife.”
“Seriously,”shereplies,smiling.“Iknowyou’llbehappytohavehimtoyourselfwhenallthisisover.”
Idon’tsayanything,andagain,sherushesintothesilence.“Sorry,Ihopeitdoesn’tbugyouthatI’vebeenspendingtimewithNico.BrittanyisdoinghergoldenretrieverthingwithElizaandJake,andit’sjust…it’snicetohavesomeonenewtotalkto.He’sagoodlistener.”
IthinkaboutthenightNicoandImet,thatwayhehasoffocusingonyouandonlyyou.Still,somethingaboutallofthisisweird.Amma’ssmileistoobright,herposturealittletoostiff.
“HeactuallyremindsmealotoftheguyIwastellingyouabout.TheboyfriendIwasgoingtotravelwith.”
Thewindisblowingthroughthepalmtreesoverhead,theirleavessighingandswaying,castingshiftingshadowsonAmma’sface.
“Yourex-boyfriend,right,”Isay.
Ammaswallowshard,lookingawayforasecondbeforeturningbacktomeandsaying,“So,there’ssomethingIshouldtellyou.BrittandIweren’ttotallyhonestabouthowwemet,”shetellsme,hereyesnotmeetingmine.“Aboutitbeingincollege.”
I’mnotsurehowtorespondtothat.Whywouldtheylieaboutsomethingsominor?
“Wemetinacounselinggroup,”shegoeson,thenlooksoveratme.“Griefcounseling.Brittany’swholefamilywaskilledinadrunkdrivingaccident.Mom,dad,littlebrother.All…threeofthem.”
Hervoicegoestight,chinwobblingabitbeforesheclearsherthroatandgoeson.“AndI’dlostmyboyfriend.”
“Oh,”Isay.Suddenlyhertearswhenshewastalkingabouthimthatfirstdaymakemoresense.
“Wetellpeoplethecollegestorybecause…well,wedon’twanttobethosegirls,youknow?Thesad,tragicones.Theoneswhoneededgriefcounseling.”
NowthatIcancompletelyunderstand.I’vespentthepastfewyearstryingnottobethatgirl.
“Anyway,”shegoeson,wavingahand.“Ijust…figuredyoushouldknowallthat.Ifiguredyou’dgetit.”
“Ido,”Isay,andsuddenlyallmycattythoughtsaboutAmma,thattwistinginmystomachwhenI’dseeherwithNico,fillsmewithshame.
Steppingforward,Ilayahandonherarm.“AndI’msosorry.”
“Thanks.It’sbeen…awful,butwe’reherenow.AndBrittany’shappy.Travelinglikethiswasheridea,herwayofusingthemoneyfrominsuranceandthesettlementtodosomethingshethoughtherfamilywould’veappreciated.Theywerebigonexperiences,gettingoutthere,livinglife.”
“Andyourboyfriend,”Iadd.“It’swhathewantedtodo,too,right?So,you’redoingagoodthing,too.”
Shenods,butthemovementisjerky.“Right.Okay,well,that’sprobablyenoughsharingandcaringfortoday.Imaydevotetherestofthemorningtogettingdaydrunk.”
“Neverabadidea.”
Sheturnstogo,butthenstops,pointingatsomethinginthetrees.“Wait,whatthefuckisthat?”
Ittakesmeasecondtoseewhatshe’sstaringat,butthenImakeoutashape,hanginginthebranches,somethingthat’snotjustavinecurlinginonitself
Ionlytakeacoupleofstepsintothetrees,butit’slikethatfirstdaywewentexploring—everythingimmediatelyseemsquieter,theairinstantlythicker,eventhoughIcanstillseeAmmajustbehindme,theseaandskybeyondher.
Thereisaropehangingfromthetree.Skinny,wornropethatfeelsscratchyinmyhandwhenIreachoutandtouchit,followingtheloopitmakesuptoaknot.
Itugatthedanglingbitoftherope,andtheloophangingfromthebranchtightenslikeanoose.
It’ssomekindoftrap,probablytocatchbirds,maybeeventheoddlizard.
Robbie’sbuddy.
Robbiehadsaidhisfriendwassurethatsomeonehadstillbeenlivingontheisland,subsistingoffthejungleandwhatsuppliestheypickeduponsails.Wasthistrapleftoverfromthatguy,whoeverhewas?
Or,Iwondered,myeyesscanningthedarknessofthejunglebeyond,wasitnew?
NINETEEN
Thenextday,weallgotothepoolElizabroughtmeto.
NoneofusmentionRobbieorthetrapI’dfoundyesterday,butIknowwe’reallthinkingaboutit.It’snicetodosomethingdifferent,tobedistractedbyachangeofscenery.
Now,IsitwithBrittanyontheedgeofthepool,watchingNicoandAmmaswim.JakeandElizaaresharingtheirownbitofsand,Elizaleaningbackbetweenhislegs.
“Whatdoyouthinkitwouldbeliketolivehere?”Brittanysays.“Imean,yes,it’sparadiseandall,butwouldn’titgetboringafterawhile?Lonely?Besides,howmanysunsetscanyoureallylookat?”
That’showI’dstartedtofeelinMaui,butIwasn’tsureitwashowIwouldfeelhere.InMaui,therehadbeenresponsibilitiesandjobs,reallifeintrudingeveryday.Here?
Hereyouwerejust…free.
“I’ddefinitelygetbored,”Brittanysaysnow.“Iknowthatsoundsentitled,butit’slike…thisisaplaceyoucometoforget,youknow?Ordisappear.”Anothershakeofherhead,darkhairspillingoverhershoulders.“AndI’mnotsureIwanttodoeitherofthosethings—notforever,atleast.”
“Me,neither,”Isay,butI’mnotsureifIactuallymeanit.
Brittanylooksbackoveratme,butbeforeshecansayanythingelse,there’sashriekfromthepool.
AmmaishangingupsidedownoverNico’sshoulder,herskinpaleagainsthisbronzedchest,herbikinibottomridingprecariouslylowasNicoducksunderneaththewateragain,pullingherwithhim.IcanfeelBrittany’seyesonmeaswewatchthemhorsearound.
“Where’sJake?”IaskwhenElizacomesandsitsnexttous.
Shegesturesbackthroughthejungle.“Heforgothisstupidbook,couldn’tpossiblyenjoytheafternoonwithoutit,apparently.Whatwereyoutwotalkingabout?”
“Whetherwecouldlivehere,onthisisland,”Brittanyanswers,pushinghersunglassesuphernosewithonefinger.“Wedecidedwedefinitelycouldn’t.”
“Same,”Elizasays,settlingbackonthesand.“Loveasunset,loveabeach,butthere’ssomuchoftheworldtosee.Andhonestly,I’mstartingtomisscities.”Shetakesadeepbreath.“Notevenahintofexhaustfumes.Howisawomansupposedtoliveonfreshairalone?”
NicoandAmmabeginclimbingoutofthepool,andIwatchfromthecornerofmyeyeasNicodrapesatoweloverhershoulders.
“Whereareyouheadedafterthis?”Iask,andElizashrugs.
“Notsureyet.JakewantstogotoFiji,maybeBoraBora,butI’mhopingIcanconvincehimthatBangkokwillbeanicechangeofpacefromallthesewhite-sandbeaches.”
Ifeelapangofenvy.I’lljustbeheadingbacktoMaui,untilNicodecideswhatwedonext.
Elizaglancesoverandnudgesme.“Wannacomewith?”
Igiveastartledlaughevenastheideasendsaflareofexcitementthroughme.“ToBangkok?”
Shenods,herblondhaircomingloosefromitssloppytopknot.“Whynot?Welikeyou,you’refun.Youclearlywanttotravel.”
“Ido,”Isay,andthenthere’salltheotherstuffIshouldsay,abouthowNicoandIhaveourownplans,butnoneofitcomesout,notaword.
“Thencome!”shesays,andIlookuptoseeNicowatchingusashescrubsathissun-bleachedhairwithatowel.DidheoverhearEliza’sinvitation?
Andmoreimportant,didhehearmenotturnitdown?
IT’SEVENINGBYTHETIMEwemakeourwaybacktothebeach,andasIlookoutatthelagoon,ittakesmeasecondtorealizesomethingismissing.
Thereareonlytwoboatsatanchornow.
TheLastDancewithMaryJaneisgone.
RelieffloodsthroughmeasIgesturetowardthelagoon.“Guessheclearedoutwhileweweregone?”
Nicosquintsoutatthewater,shadinghiseyeswithonehand.“Guessso.”
“Thanksweetfuck,”Jakemutters,thengrinsatus.“I’dsaythat’scauseforcelebration.Comeover.Let’spopsomebottles,andtoasttotheendofthatlittlefucker.”
“Soundsgoodtome,”Nicoreplies,hisarmslippingaroundmywaist.
It’shot,bothofusaresweaty,andI’mstillthinkingofhimandAmmainthepool,hisarmsaroundher.Islideawayfromhim.
Hedoesn’tsayanything,butIfeelhiseyesonmeasIclimbintoourdinghy,BrittanyandAmmafollowing.
Thesunisslowlysinkingbelowthehorizon,andallofusarealittlewaterloggedaswecomeaboardtheSusannah.
I’mthefirsttodescendintothecabin,alreadycravingacoldbottleofwaterfromourtinyfridge.
ButwhenIreachthebottomstair,somethingcrunchesunderfoot.
There’sabitofgrayplasticundermyshoe.Ittakesmeamomenttoprocessthatit’sourradio—orrather,what’sleftoftheradio.Shatteredplastic,bentmetal,loosewiring.
“Whatthefuck,”Ibreathe.
“Lux?”
Nicoiscomingdownthestairsbehindme,andhequicklytakesinthedestruction.
“Dowehaveabackup?”Iaskashebrushespastmetosurveythemess.
“No,”hesays,tersely.“Thiswasit.”
He’squietforamoment,thenquicklybringshisfistdownonthecounter.
“Motherfucker!”heroars,andIinstinctivelyjumpback,myheelcrunchingyetanotherpieceofplastic.
“IthadtobeRobbie,right?Itoldyouweneededtobeworriedabouthim!”Ifeelpanicrisinginmychestandmymindstartsspinning.
“IsthisreallythetimetoplayI-told-you-so?”
IstareatNico.“That’snotwhatI’mdoing.I’mtryingtoremindyouthatsometimesI’mactuallyrightaboutshit,andmaybeyoushould’velistenedtomeinsteadofactinglikeIwasfuckingcrazy.”
“Well,clearlyyouweren’tcrazy,andheis,okay?Areyouhappynow?”
“No!”I’mshriekingnow,butIcan’tstopmyself.“I’mnothappy.”Robbiewashere,inourboat,amongourthings.He’dbeenwatchingandwaitingforachancetoenactsomekindofpettyrevenge.
“Nico!”
WehearJakeshouting,andwerushuptothedeck.BrittanyandAmmalookbetweenusandJakeonthedeckoftheAzureSky,hishandscuppedaroundhismouth.
LikeNico,he’sscowling,hisshoulderstense,andIknowwithoutevenaskingthatRobbiegottheirstuff,too.
“Howbad?”Icallover.
“Fuckingmess,”Jakecallsback,thenwavesatuswithonearm.“Comeonover,let’stalk.”
Thefourofuspilebackintothedinghy,Nico’smovementsjerkyandrough,andthenwe’reallonthedeckoftheAzureSky.Thehappydrowsinessoftheafternoonhascompletelyvanished,allofusstandingstiffly,armscrossed,lookingaround.Hecouldstillbeouttheresomewhere.Hidingoutontheothersideoftheisland.Waitingforusinthejungle.
Andnowwehavenowayofgettinghelp.Nocontactatallwiththeoutsideworld.Wedon’thavearadio,andneitherdoestheAzureSky.
Allofusarecompletelycutoff.
“Wehavetoleave,”Isay,andallfiveheadsturninmydirection.
Itsuckstocutthetripshortunderthesecircumstances,butit’sobvioustomethatwecan’tstay,notwhenRobbiecouldstillbelurking,andisclearlydangerousanddestructive.
“Lux,calmdown,”Nicosays,placingahandonmyshoulder.
Irecoil.“Calmdown?Seriously?”
Hefrowns.“I’mjustsayingthatpanickingisn’tgoingtohelpusrightnow.”
“She’snotpanicking,”Elizasays,comingtowrapanarmaroundme.“She’sbeingsensible.Wedon’thaveradios,forfuck’ssake,andclearlythisguyismoreunhingedthanwethoughtifhe’swillingtodosomethinglikethis.”
“Igetthat,”Nicosays.“ButLuxalwaysdoesthis.Actslikethefuckingskyisfalling.”
Thewordsarelikeapunchtomygut.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“Andbesides,”hegoeson,shovingahandthroughhishair.“It’snotsafetobeonopenwaterwithnoradio.Ifwegetintotrouble,we’refucked.”
“We’refuckednow,”Iremindhim,butheshakeshishead.
“Letmethinkofsomething,okay?MaybeIcanfixthem,or—”
Ican’tstoptheincredulouslaughthatburstsoutofme.“What,withcoconutsorsomeshit?IlikeGilligan’sIsland,too,Nico,butgetreal.”
“Luxisright,mate.”
Jakehashisarmscrossed,hisexpressionunreadablebehindhismirroredsunglasses.“Radiosarefucked.There’snofixingthat.ButIhaveasatellitephone.Notthemostreliablethingontheplanet,butifIcangetitupandrunning,Icantrytogetintouchwithanyboatsinthearea.Seeifanyoneisheadedthisway,iftheymighthaveabackupradioortwothattheycanspare.”
Heshrugs.“It’snotmuch,butIthinkit’sourbestoptionrightnow.”
“Right,becauseyoualwaysknowwhat’sbest,”Nicosays.There’sasinisterexpressiononhisface,oneI’veneverseenbefore,almostasneer.
Jakematchesitwithaconfidentgrin.“Inthiscase,reckonIdo.”
Beforetheycangetintoit,Ammastepsforward,layingahandonNico’sarm.“Weshouldchecktheisland,seeifwecanfindhim.Becausemaybehe’snotevenhere,right?Hecould’vedonethisasonelast‘fuckyou,’andthentakenoff.”
SheturnstoJake,coolascanbe.“Youhaveagun,right?”
Henods,feetplantedsolidlyonthedeck.“It’snotabadidea.There’sonlyoneotherplacetoanchorhere,overontheeastsideoftheisland.Let’sgoseeifhisboat’sthere.Ifitis,well.We’lldealwiththat.Ifnot,thenwecanassumeAmma’sright,andhedidthisbeforeleaving,justtofuckwithusonelasttime.”
JakelookstoNico.“Youin?”
Niconods,notlookingatme,andthenAmmasays,“Iwanttocome,too.”
Iwaitforsomeonetotellherthat’sastupididea,butnoonedoes,andbeforeIknowit,thethreeofthemareintheZodiac,motoringtotheothersideoftheisland.
“Areyoualright?”Elizaasks,squeezingme,andIshakemyhead.I’mscaredandpissedoff.
Shealwaysactslikethefuckingskyisfalling.
LikeI’vebeensomenagholdinghimbackthisentiretime,atotaldrag,insteadoftheotherwayaround.I’mtheonewhogottheSusannahfixedforhim.I’mtheonewhocleanedhotelroomssowecouldpayrent—eventhoughhecouldhavesolvedbothofthoseproblemswithasinglephonecall,ifhewasmanenoughtoswallowhispride.
“Comeon,”Elizasays.“Let’sgohaveadrink.”
Wedo,sittingonthequiet,darkdeckwaiting,untilfinally,abouttwohourslater,wehearthequiethumoftheZodiac’smotor.
IseeitpullovertotheSusannahfirst,watchAmmaandNicoclimbaboard,andthenJakeisheadingbacktowardus
“Nothing!”hecallsupalmostimmediately.“Noboat,noasshole.ThinkAmma’stheorywasright.Thiswasonelast‘fuckyou’beforehewentcrawlingbacktowhereverhecamefrom.”
Itshouldbearelief,butIstillfeelanxious,scanningtheshorelinelikeRobbiewillcomeflyingoutofthejungleatanyminute.
“Wantmetotakeyoubackover?”Jakeasks,andIlookovermyshoulderatBrittany,whohas,somehow,managedtofallasleeponthedeckandisnowslowlycomingawake,risingoutofthelittlecocoonoftowelsshe’dmade.
“I’mready,”shesays,alreadygrabbinghershoes,butIshakemyhead.
“DoyoumindifIstayheretonight?”
IfJakeissurprised,hedoesn’tshowit.“Finebyme.”
“Yousure?”Brittanyasks,stoppingbesideme.Hereyesaresleepy,herhairmessy,andshesmellsfaintlyliketheredwinewehadearlier.“Icanstaywithyouifyouwant?”
Itmightbenice,butthatwouldleaveAmmaandNicoaloneontheboattogether.Idefinitelydon’twantthat.Ishakemyhead.
“No,goon.I’llbeoverinthemorning.Ijust…”
Itrailoff,andshenods,leaningintohugme.“Youneedabreak.Gotit.”
IwatchherclimboverthesideandintotheZodiac,thensitoutonthedecklongafterJakecomesback.There’sanothercabinbelow,butIdecidetostayoutthere,lyingonthedeck,watchingthestarsoverhead.
Idon’tthinkI’llsleep,butsomehow,Ido.Iwakeupjustasthesunhasbeguntorise,turningtheskyoverheadasoftviolet-pink.
Quietly,Islipoverthesideoftheboat,andswimfortheSusannah.
Thedoortothecabinisopen,probablytogetmoreair,andImovequietlydownthesteps,thinkingI’llcurlintobedwithNicoafterall,thinkingthatmaybe,wecanjustmovepastthis.
ButNicoisn’tonthetable.
IseeBrittany’sdarkhairspillingoutfromtheblanket,anditfeelslikeeverythinginsidemehasgoneverystill.
MyfootstepsarealmostnoiselessasImakemywaytothecabin,mybloodthrumminginmyears,myhandsshakingasIpushopenthecabindoor.
Nicoislyingonhisback,hisfeetpointedatthedoor,hisbareskinverytanagainstthewhitesheetbeneathhim.
Ammaisdrapedoverhim,herskinshiningwithsweat,abluebeadbraceletaroundherankle.
It’stheonlythingshe’swearing.
HeyMan.
Hopethisgetsthru,internetiskindashitherebutwhatcanyoudo,right?BackinTeahupo’o,notsureforhowlong.Fuckingsurfers,canonlytakesomuchofthoseassholes.RiggsisinUturoarightnow,soImighttrytomeetupwithhimthere.Hesaysit’snotascrowdedortouristy,butIgottatellyou,Robs,afterMeroe?Everythingseemsprettyfuckingcrowdedandtouristy.IwasonlygonnastaylikethreedaysbecauseIfiguredanymorethanthat,youenduptalkingtoavolleyball,butIwasthereforlikeaweek,8days?HAHA,ohshit,Ijustlookedatwhatdayitistoday,andJesus,dude,Iwasthereforeighteendays,thatisfuckingCRAZY.ISLANDTIME!
Anywayugottago.Beg,borrow,steal,makeithaaaapppppen,brother,becauseit’sonthiswholeotherleveloutthere.Bydaythreeorsomethinglikethat,Iwaslike“fuckitwiththisramen”andstartedfishing,startedhunting.Caughtthisbig-asslizardandroasteditoverafire,caveman-style.(Tastedlikeassbutwhatever.)
Onlything—ifyougokeepyourmindCLEARmanbecausethatplacefuuuuckswithyouenoughasitis.Seemslikeitwouldbeawesometogethighonadesertedislandbuttrustme,Robs,ITISNOTAWESOME.IdiditonenightandendedupinsomeApocalypseNowshit,stompingthroughthejunglewithagoddamnKNIFEthinkingtherewassomeoneoutthere.Kepthearingweirdnoisesandnotjunglenoiseslike—personnoises?Ifyoufeelme?Footstepsandshit,breathing.I’mtellingyou,itwasWILD.Iendedupfindingthisshack,leftoverfromWWIIprobably,andIrememberedabuddyofminesaidadudeusedtoliveonMeroe.GuessthiswashishouseanditwasSICK.IreallythoughtaboutstickingaroundbutIfigureditwasonlyamatteroftimebeforesomeassholesshowedupplayingGilligan.
StillMeroeiscoolashell.WEIRDashell,sokeepyourheadonaswivel,dude,butgo.Trust.
Letmeknowhowthefuckyouare/wherethefuckyouare(Iwon’ttellRiggs,Iknowthere’ssomeshitthatwentdownthere)(fuckmanamIthelastfriendyouDON’Thaveshitwith?)
Later—
C
EmailsentDecember3,2019,fromChristopher“Chipper”Davidson
TWENTY
Idon’tknowwhyIheadfortheairstrip.
Maybeit’sjustthatIdon’twanttodealwithanyone,andIknowthatnoonewillthinktolookformethere.
NicoandAmma.AmmaandNico.Ikeepseeingthem,theirbodiescurledaroundeachother,keeprememberingallthosemomentsofthemtalkingandlaughing,andhowI’dtoldmyselfIwasbeingstupid.
Goodluck,Susannahhadsaid.
Turnsout,I’dneededthatwarning.
Tearsarestreamingdownmyfacenow,minglingwithmysweat,butIkeeppushingthroughthefoliage.
I’vegoneseveralmoreyardsbeforeIrealizethatnothinglooksfamiliar.Orrather,italllookstoofamiliar—there’sasamenesstothejunglethatmakesiteasytogetconfused.
Istop,takeadeepbreath,andlookaround.
It’sjustlikeitwastheotherday,steamyandhot,smellingthickandgreen,buteverythingfeelsclosernow,liketheairandvegetationarepressinginonme.Iturnbackintheotherdirection,butwhenIdo,theleavesseemthickerstill,thegroundunderfoottrickier.
I’mnotpanicked,notyet,butmyheartisdefinitelybeatingfasterasIkeepgoing,hopingtofindtherightpathatanyminute.
Butthejungleonlygetsdenser,theheatmoreoppressive,andIcanhearmyownsharpbreaths,sawinginandoutofmylungsasItrytomoveasfastasIcan.
Ihearbirdscallingoverhead,andwhenIlookup,thereareflashesofbluesky
Andthensuddenly,thejunglethins,andIbreatheasighofrelief,thinkingI’vefoundthewaytotheairstripafterall.
Butno.It’sjustanotherclearing,anotherplacewherethevegetationhasclearlybeenhackedbackbyhumanhands.Anddirectlyinfrontofme,there’sabuilding.
It’ssmall,barelysixfeetacross,andmadeofmetalthat’srustinginplaces.Inplaceofadoorthere’ssimplyanemptyopening,framedbycrawlingvines.Theinteriorbeyondiscompletelydark.
Itmust’vebelongedtothenavywhentheywerehere,probablysomekindofstorageshed,butIimmediatelythinkofthetrapinthetrees,andRobbie’sbuddy,whosworesomeonewaslivingontheisland.Thesuddenshotoffeartastesacridinmymouth,andcoldsweatspringsupundermyarmsandbehindmyknees.
“Hello?”Icalltentatively,feelingbothstupidandterrifiedasIdo.
There’snoanswer,ofcourse,andImovealittlecloser,duckingmyheadinsidetheshelter.
It’salmosttoodarktoseeanything—thethickcoverofthejunglepreventsmostlightfromgettingthrough—butthere,inthecorner,Icansee…something
Alump,adarkerspotamongtheshadows.Toosmalltobeaperson.Abagmaybe?Orjustabunchofdebris?
I’mjustabouttostepfartherinsidewhenthere’smovementnearmyfoot,andasIlookdown,somethinggreenslitherspast.
Rearingback,Inearlysteponthetailofthesnake,shriekinginspiteofmyself,butit’salreadydisappearedunderthesideoftheshack.
There’snosoundotherthanmyownheartpoundinginmyears.Ihavetogetoutofhere.
WHENISTUMBLEBACKONTOthebeach,it’sempty,andIseebothdinghiesaregone.Maybethey’veallgonelookingforme,butIdon’treallycare,notrightnow.
MylegsareshakingasIpullmyselfaboardtheSusannah,stomachinknots,andIhopeagainsthopethatNicoandAmmaaren’tonboard.I’mnotreadytofaceeitherofthemyet.
Thedeckisempty,thankgod,andwhenIgobelow,it’sclearI’malone.NicoandAmmamusthavegoneoffsomewheretogether,andthatthoughtisbothareliefandanotherknifetomychestasIstepintothecabin.
It’swarmanddampinthere,andIcan’tbringmyselftogetanywherenearthebed.IfeellikeIcanstillsmellsexandAmma’ssunscreen,andI’mafraidI’llseeherlongdarkhaironthepillowthatusedtobemine.Instead,Iperchontheedgeoftheberth,myfingerscurledaroundthemattress.
It’sokay,Itellmyself.It’sjustafewmoredays,andthenwe’llgobacktoHawaii.
ButwhatwillIdoafterthat?
Forthefirsttime,IconsiderwhetherNicoandIcouldgetpastthis.Ihatehowmuchthepossibilityfillsmewithrelief,butIcan’thelpit—itseemssomucheasierthatway.Likethesetwoweekswerejustsomeweirdlittleblip,adream,andifwejustignoreit,wecouldgobacktothewaythingswere.
Except,thistriphasalsorevealedtomethatthewaythingswereinvolvedNicocallingalltheshots,livingexactlyhowhewanted,whileIdriftedalonginhiscurrents.
Ilookaroundthetinyroom.ThecurtainImadeforourportholeisslightlycrookedatthehem,cheerfulyellowflowersgentlystainingthelightthatfiltersthroughthefabric.IrealizehowpatheticmyattemptsatmakingalifewithNiconowseem.TheSusannahwasalwaysNico’s.Willalwaysbehis.
Iwasjustalongfortheride.
AndI’msickofit.
I’dcomebacktotheboatwiththeideaofgatheringsomeofmythings,anddecampingtothebeachfortheselastfewnights.Butwiththedinghygone,there’snowaytodothat,soinstead,Iwanderuptothedeckagain.
Nicoisstandingthere.
He’sgothishandsinhispockets,hisheaddown.Byhisposture,Icantellthatheknowshe’sbeencaught,andIdon’thavetimetowonderhowhefigureditout.
“Lux—”hestarts,butIcuthimoff.
“Don’t.Don’tdothis.”
“Don’tyouthinkweshouldatleasttalkaboutit?”heasks,andIfeeltearsstingmyeyes.
“Isthereanythingtotalkabout?Really?”
Nicostaresatme.Hisskinhasgrownevendarkersincewe’vebeenhere.He’ssotanheglows,andithurts,howbeautifulheis.Evennow.Especiallynow.“So,you’rebreakingupwithmeonadesertedisland.That’sactuallyhappening.”
“Youfuckedsomeoneelse,”Isay,myvoicelow.Idon’tknowwheretheothersarerightnow,andthecozinessthathadseemedsofunourfirstfewdayshereisnowstifling.Ifeellikethere’snowaytohaveaprivateconversation,nowaysomeoneisn’toverhearingeverythingwesay.
“AndI’msosorry,”Nicosays.Heactuallylooksit,whichisthehardestpart.
Thenheadds,“Butit’snotlikeyouhaven’tbeenreallymoodylately,Lux.IfeellikeeverytimeIwanttotalktoyou,you’rewithElizaandBrittany.Andthenyougotsopissedoverthatguy—”
“Becausehewasscary,Nico!Becauseitseemedlikeyoudidn’tcareaboutprotectingme!Becauseweshould’veheadedhomethenandthere,butwedidn’t,andnowourradiosarefuckedandyoufuckedsomeoneelse,andnowwe’restuckhere.Youcan’tblamemeforbeingangryaboutthat.”
Heshakeshishead,hishairfallingoverhisbrowashelooksawayfromme.“Iknowitwasuncool—”hestarts,andIscoffloudly.
“‘Uncool’—yeah,that’sonewordforit.”
Glaring,hejutsouthisjaw.“ThisiswhatImean.You’vebeenabitcheversincewegothere,okay?Soyeah,I’manassholeandIsleptwithsomeone,buttobehonest,Lux,Ididn’tthinkyou’dcare.Imean,you’regoingoffwithJakeandEliza,right?”
Istareathim.“What?”
Hisarmsarefoldedacrosshischest.“IheardElizainviteyoutoleavewiththem.Andthethingis,Lux,Ididn’thearyousayno.Youwerethinkingaboutit,weren’tyou?”
Ifallsilent.
“Soyeah,can’treallyblamemeforfeelinglike,‘Hey,maybeLuxwasneveractuallyintome.Maybeitwastheboatandthechancetodoabsolutelyfuck-allwithherlife!’”
“That’snotfair,”Isay,andnowwe’renoteventryingtobequiet,ourvoicesringingthroughtheopenair.
“YouwereadicktomeafterRobbie,”Igoon.“Iwaspissed.Andyeah,itwasnicetohaveElizamakethatoffer.Butjustbecauseyoudidn’thearmesaynodoesn’tmeanIsaidyes.Andit’sdefinitelynotanexcusetogooffandfucksomegirlyou’veknownforlikeaweekonourboat.”
“Myboat,Lux,”hesays.“Myfuckingboat.”
Andthereitis.
Thereneverreallywasan“us”inthetruesenseofthings,notforNico.Butsuspectingsomethinginthedarkestcornersofyourmindandhearingitsaidoutloudaretwodifferentthings.
“Yourfuckingboat,”Iecho,nodding.“AndI’mgettingoffofitrightnow,don’tworry.”
“Lux,”hesaysagain,butI’vestoppedlistening.Ileavemysadlittlebagofthingsonthedeck,anddiveovertheside,swimmingfortheAzureSky.
IseeBrittanyonastripedblanketonthebeach,stretchedoutunderneaththesun.She’sgothersunglasseson,abookopen,andIbetshehasherearbudsin,soIdon’tevenbotherwavingtoherortryingtocalltoher.Instead,IpullmyselfupandontotheAzureSky.
ElizahadsaidIwaswelcometosailwiththemanytimeIwanted,andIwonderifthat’sstillanoptionnow.MaybeIdon’thavetogobacktoHawaiiwithNicoafterall.
Robbiesaidthattheislandwascursed,andforthefirsttime,I’mstartingtobelievethere’ssometruthtothat.Thosedeadsailorsbackinthe1800s,theovergrownairstrip,theskull,theabandonedbuildingIfoundthismorning…foraplacefullofnaturalbeauty,italsoseemsfullofhorriblehistory.
I’mcravinganotherdrink,butthecoolerondeckisempty,soIslideopenthecabindoorandstickmyheadin.“Eliza?”Icall,eventhoughIknowshe’snotdownthere.Still,itfeelsalittlestrangetobecreepingaroundtheboatonmyown.
UnlikeourcabinontheSusannah,theinterioroftheAzureSkyisbrightandopen,withwhitefurnishings,chromeaccents,andshinyteakfloors.IletmyselfimaginewhatitwouldbeliketosailtoBangkokonaboatlikethis.
Iopenthestainless-steelrefrigeratorandpulloutatwelve-pack,thinkingthatImightaswellrefillthedeckcoolerforElizawhileI’matit.Butmyhandsaresweating,andoneofthebottlesslipsthroughmyfingers,crashingontothefloorinasprayofbrokenamberglassandfoam.
“Fuck,”Imutter,steppingbackfromthespreadingpoolasthesmellofyeastandhopsfillsthecabin.
Ilookaroundforatowel,anythingtocleanupthemess,butthewholeminimalistthingtheyhavegoingonmeansthere’snothingathandexceptformoremetalandglass,andthat’snotexactlyhelpfulrightnow.
Iopenthecabinetunderneaththesinkandthere,nexttoabottleofWindex,Ifindaneatpileofwhitetowels.
There’salsoalumpyblackbag,itszipperpartiallyopened.
Wonderwhatalltheygotonthatboat,IhearRobbiesay,rememberinghiscrookedsmileandhardeyes.
Robbie’sbag.Theonehe’dthrownonshorethatday.Ithadbeenblacklikethis.Canvas,thezipperbroken.
IfeellikeBluebeard’swifeasIpullitoutintothelight.
Assoonasit’sinmylap,Ibreatheasighofrelief.It’snotthesamebag.Thisoneistoonew,brandedwiththeTumilogo,andwhenItrythezipper,itslidesopenjustfine.
God,thisplaceismakingmeparanoid.
I’mclosingupthebagagainwhenInoticeanoddlyshapedpieceofplasticprotruding.
Whateverisinthebagisheavy,andIhavetousebothhandstopullitout.
It’scash.
Alotofcash.Stacksofit,tightlyboundtogether,andwrappedinplastic.Americandollars,euros,Britishpounds,thecolorfulfaceofthequeensmilinggenteellyupatme.
MyheartispoundingasIshovethemoneybackinthebag,onlytorealizetherearemoreplastic-wrappedparcelsinside.Oneiscash,buttwoarethicker,heavier,andIrealize,innumbdisbelief,thatthey’rebricksofhash.
So:notjustcash,butdrugs,too.
NicohadaskedJakeandElizawhattheydid,howtheymadealiving,andJakehadbeenvagueenoughthatI’djustassumedhewasanotherrichkidwithinheritedwealth—hedidn’thavetoactuallymakemoney,itjustexistedforhim.Andafterhearingthattheygrewuptogether,IfiguredElizawasthesame.
Butclearly,there’smoretoitthanthat.
Isthatwhythey’rehere,onthisdesertedisland?Aretheyrunningfromthelaw?
Suddenly,IrealizejusthowlittleIactuallyknowaboutJakeorEliza,orBrittanyorAmmaforthatmatter—orfuckit,maybeevenNico.Thesepeoplearebasicallyallstrangerstome,andIamalonewiththeminthemiddleofthePacificOcean.Myheadfeelslikeit’sstuffedwithcotton,andmymouthhasgonedry,andallIcanthinkisIhavetoputallthisshitback,exactlyasIfoundit,quicklyshovingitintothebaglikethecanvaswillburnme.
That’swhenIhearfootstepsonthestairsleadingintothegalley.
IturntoseeElizastandingthere,lookingdownatme.
Smiling.
“So,”shesays,foldingherarms,sun-bronzedandbeautifulandremarkablycalm.“Nowyouknowourlittlesecret.”
TWENTY-ONE
“You’regonnabecoolaboutthis,right?”Elizaasksafteralongpause,andInodalmostautomatically.
ThisissomethingElizaisgoodat,Irealize:phrasingastatementasaquestion,sothatyouronlyoptionistoagreewithher.
Steppingforward,sheleansdownandtakesthebagfromme.“It’snotthatbigofadeal,”shegoeson.“It’sjustsomepot.Wedon’tdealinthescarierstuff,youknow?Justthefunshit.”
Sheflashesthatsparklingsmile,andInodrobotically.
“Right,hashisnothing,really,”Ihearmyselfsay,wonderingifthere’smorehiddenontheboat,andwhere.
Elizacanclearlyreadmymind.“Iknow,itlookslikealot,andyes,we’dbecompletelyandutterlyfuckedifwegotcaughtwithit,butyouknowhowitis—bigrisk,bigreward.”
“Totally,”Isay,noddingevenmoremanically,andElizalaughs,comingovertohugme.
“Oh,Luxy,”shesays.“Don’ttelltheothers,butyou’remyfavorite.”
Andit’ssostupidandsilly,butmywholebodyseemstoflushwithpleasure.Howdoesshedoit,makeyoufeellikeherapprovalissoimportant,sovital?
Thenshelooksrightatme.“Butsomething’swrong,isn’tit,love?”
BeforeIcanstopmyself,itpoursoutofme.“IcaughtNicoandAmma.Inbed.”
Herbrowsdrawtighttogether,atrioofwrinklesappearingabovehernose.“Oh,Luxy,”shesays.“Oh,fuck.”
TearsspilldownmycheeksandIletherenvelopmeagain.
“Whatapairofcocks,”shesays,andthatactuallymakesmelaughalittle,pullingbackasIswipeatmycheeks.
“Suchcocks,yeah,”Iagree.“Isweartogod,it’sthisplace.Beingontheedgeofcivilization,awayfromeverythingandeveryone.Ithinkitmakespeopleinsane.”
Elizanods.“Whatareyougoingtodonow?Didyouconfrontthem?”
Ishakemyhead.“No.Inthemoment,Iwasacompletecowardandbasicallyranaway.”
“Iunderstandthat,”Elizasays.“Butmaybeyou’dfeelbetterifitwerealloutintheopen?”
IthinkaboutconfrontingAmma,butnothingaboutthatsceneappealstome.“Rightnow,Ijustwanttoforgetit,”Itellher,andshesqueezesmyshoulders.
“Fairenough.Stayoverherewithusforabit,hmm?We’vegotplentyofroom.”
Iknowit’snotapermanentsolution,butfornow,it’senough.Inod.“I’dloveto.”
ASMUCHASI’DLOVEtohideoutontheAzureSkyfortherestofthetrip,IknowthatIcan’t,andbesides,I’mnottheonewhodidanythingwrong.It’snotfairthatIshouldhavetogiveuptheislandjustbecauseAmmaandNicodecidedtobeassholes.Still,asIswimforthebeachlaterthatafternoon,mystomachisinknots.IcanseeBrittanysittingonatowel,watchingmeapproach,whileJakeisfartheruponthebeach,underneaththetarpwithabook.NicoandAmmaare,thankgod,nowheretobeseen.
AssoonasImakemywayontothesand,Brittanyisthere,herfingerstwistedtogether,thecornerofhermouthturneddowninanexaggeratedfrown.“Lux,”shesays,thensighs.“Shit.”
Iwringthewateroutofmyhair,noddingandgivingsomethingthattriestobealaugh.“Yeah,shitindeed.Guessyoualreadyknow.”
“Ammatoldme.”
Shestepsclosertome,herhandlandingonmyarm.Webothsmelllikesaltwaterandwettowels,asharper,earthierscentunderneath.We’veallstoppedbathingasmuch,goinginandoutoftheseaenoughtimestofeelcleaneventhoughwe’renot,notreally.Howdidthathappensofast?
“I’msosorry,”shesays,andthenherwordsstarttumblingout.“IfIhadhadanyideathatkindofthingwasgoingtohappen,Iwould’vestoppedit,Ipromise.Imean,Ammahasn’tseemedevenremotelyinterestedinanyguyswhileweweretraveling,soIneverthought—”
“Brittany.”
Icoverherhandwithmyown,andshelacesourfingerstogetherasshelooksatme.
“It’snotyourfault,”Itellher.“It’sjust…oneofthosethings.Throwsomehotpeopletogether,addstressandlotsofalcohol…”
“That’snotanexcuse,”Brittanysays,andI’msurprisedathowfierceshesounds.“Itwasafucked-upthingtodotoafriend.”
Itfeelsgood,hearingherdefendmelikethat,butIshakemyhead.“Comeon,Britt.YouknowmeandAmmaaren’tfriends.Notreally.”
I’dlikedher,sure,butIwasn’tstupid—thesekindsoftripsdidn’tformlifelongbonds.IwasjustthegirlfriendoftheguyAmmaandBrittanyhadhired,andwithinayear,they’dforgetmyname,Ibet.
ButthenBrittanysqueezesmyhand.“We’refriends,though.Right?”
Again,there’sthisseriousnessinherface,inherwords,thatsurprisesme,andIsmileatherinspiteofmyconfusion.“Yeah,”Itellher.“Ofcourse,weare.”
“Good,”shesays,thenpullsmeinforaquickhug.“Soit’sofficial,I’mTeamLuxonthis,andtheycanbothfuckoff.”
Ilaughevenasmythroattightens.“Okay,well,youjustmetmeacoupleweeksago,andyou’veknownAmmaforalotlonger,somaybedon’tthrowherovercompletely.EventhoughIappreciateit.”
Whenshepullsback,Brittanyshakesherhead.“Toolate.IalreadytoldheroncewegetbacktoHawaii,we’redone.”
“Becauseshesleptwithmyboyfriend?”
Hergazedriftspastmyshoulder,andIturntoseeAmmaonthedeckoftheSusannah,watchingus.
“Becauseofalotofthings,”Brittanysays,andIwonderwhatthatmeans.
BeforeIcanask,Jakewalksovertous,hishandsinhispockets,sandclingingtohiscalves.Helookssocasual,sorelaxed,andIsuddenlyrememberwithajoltthatNicoandAmmaarenottheonlyshockI’vehadtoday.
Themoney,thedrugs.NoneofitreallyjibeswiththemanIseestandingbeforemenowinsalmonswimtrunks,hismirroredaviatorsreflectingtheblue-greenwaterandwhitesand.
“Everythingalright?”heasks,andInod,throwingBrittanyalook.I’msureElizawilltellhimwhat’sgoingon,butIcan’thavethisconversationwithanyoneelsetoday.
Howisitthatyoucanbethisfarfromanythingresemblingcivilization,andstillfeelthiswatched,thisscrutinized?
“Well,here’sabitofbothgoodandbadnews,”Jakegoeson,duckinghisheadsothathecanlookatusoverthetopsofhissunglasses.“Managedtogetsomeoneonthesatellitephonethismorning.There’sayachtheadedthiswayoutofHonolulunextweekthatcanbringusasetofextraradios.”
“Nextweek?”
WeweresupposedtoleaveMeroeinjustafewdays,hadeverythinggonetoplan.ButnowJakewassayingitwasgoingtotakeevenlonger.
“Shouldaddabouttendaystothestay,yup,”Jakeagrees,lookingbackoutatthewater.“Butnotexactlyanyskinoffournoses,isit?Maybewanttotightenupsomeoftherationsabit,godowntothreebottlesofwineanightinsteadoffive.”
Histeethflashwhite.“Andit’snotlikeElizaandIhadanysetscheduleforleaving,really.LookatitasGod’swayofsayinghewantsustohaveagoodtimealittlelonger.”
Tenmoredays.
TenmoredaysonthisislandwiththemanIlovedandthewomanhe’scheatedonmewith.
TenmoredayswithElizaandJakeandtheirsecrets.
“Worksforme,”Brittanysays,andInod,too,evenasIlookaroundatthesandandtheseaandthejunglebehindus,wonderinghowaplacethat’ssoopen,sofree,couldfeellikesuchatrap.
BEFORE
Elizahasneverbelievedinfate.Somemysticalforce,pullingyouwhereyou’resupposedtobe,sothateverythingclickstogetherwithperfectsymmetry?Noway.Besides,thatkindofthinkingtakespoweroutofyourhands,inheropinion,sofuckthat.
Butstill,whenshelooksacrossacrowdedpubandseesJakeKellystandingthere,apintinonehand,surroundedasalwaysbyapackofacolytes,shehastowonderiftheuniverseisn’tfinally—forfuckingonce—doingherafavor.
Lordknowsitoweshersomething.
Afterhermum,afterJakeandallthat,Elizaspentyearsdrifting.Ayearofuni,thenanewguy,onewhohadJake’sblueeyesandeasycharm,butnothiscash,notthatgold-platedsenseofselfthatJakehadsomehowpossessedevenatseventeen.
Thatguy—Tom—lastednearlytwoyears,andthenshewasmovingonagain,settlinginLondonwithsomegirlsshemetthroughanonlinead,andworkingatabank.
Whenthathadgottentoodulltobeborne,she’dfoundajobbartendingonacruiseship.SheusuallyworkedtheSpanishroute,SouthamptontoMallorcaandallthat,sunburnedtouristspayingtoomuchfortequilasunrisesthatshe’dalwaysmadewithherbrightestandfakestsmile.
Itwasn’tabadlife.Elizalikedthetravel,andthetipsweregood.Itjustwasn’twhatshe’denvisionedforherselfwhenshewasyounger.
Sure,shewasgoingtogorgeousplaces,butshewasdoingitasstaffwhenwhatshewantedwastobethepersonbeingwaitedon,thegirlwhoorderedthedrinks,notthegirlwhomadethem.
Buteventually,shemadeenoughmoneyfromthatjobtotravelonherownforabit,gettingofftheboatintheCanaryIslandsandnevergettingbackon.
ShecoveredmostofsouthernEurope,endedupinIstanbulforaperiod,allwhiledriftingintodifferentgroupsofpeople,differentfriends.Andwithpeoplelikethat—peopleyoumeetontheroad—there’snorealpastandnorealfuture.ItcanalljustbeagloriouspresentwhereElizacanbeanyoneshewants.Shedoesn’thavetotellpeoplethathermumisinprison,doesn’thavetoconfesstothewastedyearsonwastedmenandwastedopportunities.
Shecanreinventherselfeverytimesheendsupinanewplace,andthefreedomofthatisheady.
Butit’snotnearlyasheadyasthismoment,asshemakesherwayacrossthepubtoJakeKelly.
Hedoesn’trecognizeheratfirst.Shecantellfromthewaythathiseyesmoveoverherthathe’sinterested,butit’sinadistractedsortofway,justamanseeinganattractivewoman,doingwhatevercalculusitismendoastheydecideifthey’regoingtopursueornot.
Andthen…
Hiseyeswiden,andtheexpressiononhisfacefillsElizawithasuddenrushoftriumph.
“Holyshit,”hebreathesasshecomesclose,andshesmilesathim,placingahandonhisshoulderandgoinguponhertiptoestokisshischeek.
“Hiya,Jake.”
Hesetshisbeeronthebarbehindhimsoquicklythatsomeofitsloshesovertheside,andthenhishandsareonherwaist,hisgringenuineashelooksdownather.Histeenagelankinesshasturnedintosomethingmoresolid,hischestbroader,hisfacesharper.Unfair,really,thatheshouldstillbethisbeautiful,andthatsheshouldstillfeelherfacegrowhotwhenhelooksather,thatsheshouldimmediatelyfeellikeasixteen-year-oldagain,cravinghisreflectedglow.
“HowonearthhaveIgoneovertenyearswithoutthisfaceinmylife?”heasks,smiling,andjustlikethat,it’sover,she’sdonefor.Lostagaininthateasysmileandthoseblueeyes,andhedoesn’tevenhavetoaskhertogohomewithhim.
Shejustgoes.
HOMEISABOAT.
Itmakesherlaughatfirstwhenhetakesherthere.Shecan’tseemtoescapeshipsthesedays,butthat’sfinebyher.Shelovesthewater,andhadeventakensailinglessonsduringhertimeonthecruiseship.Besides,theAzureSkyisnotjustanyboat.
It’sgorgeous,sleekandluxurious,andsheseesJake’sprideinitasheshowsheraround.
“Whereareyougoingtotakeher?”sheasks,andheslideshisarmsaroundherwaistfrombehind,kissingaspotbehindherearandraisinggoosebumps.
“AnywhereIfuckingplease,”hereplies,thennodstowardamapopeneduponthetableinthegalley.
“Thinkingaboutthisonespot.MeroeIsland.Supposedtobequitetheexperience.Ancestorofminegotstrandedtherebackinthe1800s.Poorbuggergoteaten,ifmemoryserves.”
“Bysharks?”Elizaasks,andJakepressesagentlebitetotheplacewhereherneckmeetshershoulder.
“Byhismates,”hereplies,andsheturnsinhisarms,loopingherarmsaroundhisneck.
“Andyouwanttogotherewhy?”
Thatgrinagain,thosedimples.“Forthefunofit,darling.Andspeakingoffun…”
Elizaletshimleadhertothecabin,layherdownonthewidebed,andstripoffherdress.Ithadbotheredherforyears,thewayshestillthoughtaboutthoseafternoonsinJake’sbedasateenager,hownomanshe’dsleptwithsincehadaffectedherquitethewayhehad.
She’dchalkedituptofirstloveandadolescenthormones,butonthisnight,hereontheAzureSky,shelearnsshewaswrong.It’sjust—Jake.Whateversparkedbetweenthembeforeisimmediatelyrekindledagain,andeventhoughshehasfriendssheknowsarewaitingonher,shefallsasleepinhisarmsthinkingshemightneverleave.
HERSECONDNIGHTONTHEboat,shefindsthedrugs.
Elizawasn’tsnooping,notreally.Shewaslookingforabloodywineglass,theonesthey’dusedthenightbeforestilldirtyinthesinkbecausegodforbidJakeKellywashaglass,andshe’scertainlynotdoingitforhim.
Sheopensacabinetandseesstacksofsomethingwrappedinplastic,andforamoment,herbraindoesn’tquiteunderstandwhattheyare,thesesolidbrickscoveredinclingfilm.
Whensherealizeswhatshe’slookingat,astrangethinghappensinsideofher.Herskinfeelscoldevenasrage—aragestrongerthananyshe’severfelt—boilsupinherstomach.
She’sstillsquattingthereinfrontofthecabinetwhenJakecomesoutofthecabin,wearingjusthisboxerbriefsandarobe,acigarettedanglingfromhismouth.
“Ah,”hesaysseeingher,andshrugs.“Familybusinesscontinuesapace.”
Hesaysitcheerfully,withthatsamegrin—andthat,intheend,iswhatdoomshim.
ForJake,thisisnothingmorethanAThingThatHeDoes.Awaytomakemoney—extramoney,becauseforallhe’sjoking,thisisnothisactualfamilybusiness.That’srealestate.Thisissimplyasidehustlethatallowshimtobuyfancyboatsandneverwearasuitunlesshewantsto.
This—thethingthatdestroyedhermother’slifeand,inmanyways,herown—isjust,forJakeKelly,abitoffun.
Anditalwayswillbe.
Nolessonlearnedfromhermum’sprisonsentence.Noremorse.TheKellymenjusttrundledontheirway.
Heneverevenaskedabouther.
Elizarealizesthatnow.Thelasttimeshe’dseenJake,hermumhadjustbeensentencedtoprison,butnotonceinthelasttwodayshasheaskedabouther.Wheresheis,howsheis.
Likesheneverevenexisted.
Risingonshakinglegs,Elizaturnstohim,andschoolsherfaceverycarefullyintoablandexpression.“Goodtoknow,”shesays,andhervoicedoesn’tcrackeventhetiniestbit.
Hecomescloser,kisseshercheek,andshesmilesupathim.Butinside,hermindiswhirlingandwhirling,andsomethingtoohazytobecalledaplanbeginstoform.
ELIZADOESN’TSPENDTHENEXTnightontheAzureSky,orthenightafterthat.Sherejoinsthefriendsshe’sbeenhangingoutwith,spendinghertimewiththeminvariousmuseumsandshopsandpubsandrestaurants,andallthewhile,she’sthinking—aboutJakeandthatboatandhisplansandthosehiddenbagsunderthesink.Bythetimeherphoneringsonthethirdday,theplanisnotsohazyanymore.
Shelooksdownathermobile,smilingatthenumberthatpopsup.
Shedoesn’tanswer.
Shedoesn’tanswerJake’ssecondcallorhisthird,either.Sheletshimwaitfivedaysbeforefinally,shedecidestopickup.
“Areyoutryingtotortureme?”heasksassoonassheanswers,andElizasmiles,excusingherselffromherfriendsandwanderingintothebackhallwayofthepubwherethey’vebeendrinking.
“Alittle,”sheadmits,andshehearsJakelaughontheotherend,imagineshimsittingthereonthedeckofthatgorgeouscatamaran,tanandgoldenandgorgeous.
“Well,it’sworking,”hereplies.“Ican’tstopthinkingaboutyou.Haven’tevenwashedmysheets,that’showpatheticI’vebecome.”
“Aww,Jake.Notusedtobeingtheoneleftinthemorning,areyou?”
“You’rebloodywellrightI’mnot,”heanswers,andthenpauses.“CanIseeyoutonight?”
Elizaglancesoverhershoulder,backintothepub.“I’mbusytonight.”
Hegroans.“Ofcourseyouare.Tomorrow?”
“Can’tthinkthatfarahead,”shetellshim,leaningagainstthewall,rememberingallthoseafternoonsshe’dwaitedforhiscall,allthecanceledplansjustincasehe’dwanttoseeherthatday.“Honestly,I’mnotevensureI’mgoingtostayinAustraliathatmuchlonger.Mightbetimetomoveon,havesomenewadventures.”
Immediately,shebeginstoworry.Hasshepushedittoofar?Wasthattooobvious?
Sheholdsherbreath.
ButthenJakesays,“Luckyforyou,thisguylovesagoodadventure.RememberthatislandIwastellingyouabout?Meroe?Feelsliketheperfecttimetoheadoutthatway.You,me,sand,surf.Whaddyasay?”
“Jake,”Elizapurrs,evenasherheartpoundsharder,herbloodfizzinglikechampagne.“Areyouaskingmetosailawaywithyou?”
“No,”hesays.“I’mbeggingyou.”
AndElizalaughs.
Theysailouttwodayslater.
And,ofcourse,thebignewsthisyearwasourtriptoHawaii!Theweatherwaslovelythewholetime—wereallyluckedoutthere!Hopeyou’reallpreparedtolookataboutathousandpicturesofdolphinsnexttimeweseeyou,becauseDaveandIsuredidtakeabunch,lol.Wedidhaveonelittle“spooky”thinghappenonourtrip,though.WehadsailedouttothisplacecalledMeroeIsland.DavewantedtocheckoutanoldWWIIairstripthat’sthere,andIthoughtitmightbeneattoseeareallivedesertedisland.Butwhenwegotthere,therewasaboatalreadyanchored.IknowDavewasreadytobeRobinsonCrusoe,andhesurewasdisappointed!Wehailedthem,bothontheradio,thenjusttheold-fashionedway,shoutingovertheside,buttherewasnoresponse.Thoughtthatwasalittlefunny,butthenwefiguredmaybetheywereoffexploringontheisland.Sureenough,Ispottedsomebodyonthebeachafewminuteslater,buttheydisappearedbackintothetreesbeforeIreallyhadachancetogetagoodlookatthem.Now,y’allknowIamnotsuperstitious,butsomethingaboutthatquietboatandthatpersondartingintothejungle…itjustgavemeabadfeeling.Itwastheprettiestlittleisland,butItoldDavetherearelotsofprettylittleislandsthatdon’tmakemefeellikeI’mabouttocrawloutofmyskin.Andthefunnythingis,Daveactuallyagreedwithme!Saidtheplacegavehimthecreeps,sowejustsailedon.Notsorrywedid!—MullinsFamilyChristmasCard,December2016NOW
TWENTY-TWO
It’sourfifteenthdayontheisland.
Ifeverythinghadgonelikeitwassupposedto,wewouldhaveleftyesterday,butinstead,we’reallstillhere.
Waiting.
I’mstillontheAzureSky,andsoisBrittany.NicoandAmmaarestillontheSusannah,andit’slikethesixofussplitintoourownseparateuniverses,barelyinteractinganymore.Ifourgroupisonthebeach,NicoandAmmastayontheboat.Ifwe’reonboardtheAzureSky,they’reonthebeach.
Idon’tknowifanythingisstillgoingonbetweenNicoandAmma.ButIdoknowthatNicohasn’teventriedtofightforme.AndallIwantnowisjusttoleavethisislandbehind:escapetheheatandhumidity,whichhavebecomelikelivingthings,pressingdownonme.Escapetheclaustrophobiaandtheweirdtension,andtheconstant,thrummingdread.
I’mstartingtodreamofcoolerplaces.Theair-conditionedchillofamovietheater.AbriskwalkonthebeachinDecember.Theteeth-achingbuzzfromdrinkingafrozencocktailtoofast.EvenasIwadeintotheclearbluewaterofftheshore,I’mstillsweating,thewaterthesametemperatureasawarmbath.
Itakeadeepbreaththroughmynoseandcatchthatnow-familiarmixofsaltwaterandslowlyrottingvegetation.DespitetheSPF50Ireligiouslyapplyeveryfewhours,thesunissearingmyshoulders,theglareoffthewateralreadygivingmeadullheadache.
“Ifeelasthoughyou’rethinkingentirelytoodeepthoughtsforamorninglikethis.”
Jakeisapproachingme,twobeersdanglingfromonehand.
I’mstillalittlehungoverfromlastnight—thedrinkingsurehasn’tsloweddownsinceourgroupfractured—butItakethebottleheoffers.Thefirstsiphitsmytongue,yeastyandsour,andmystomachrollsalittle.
“Iwasjustthinkingthatparadiseisn’texactlywhatI’dexpected.”
IcanseemyreflectioninJake’ssunglasses.Myshouldersarefreckledandpeeling,andmyhairisatangledandsaltymess,heldbackfrommyfacewithoneofNico’sbandanas.Eventhoughwe’vebeenlivingintheexactsameconditions,Ammasomehowdidn’tletherselfbecomethisferal.
Jakesmilesatme,tippingthebeertohismouth.“Veryfewthingsarewhattheysayonthetin,Lux,”hetellsme,thenflashesmeagrin.“Exceptme.”
“Ah,sothefecklessrichguythingisn’tjustanact?”
Hetiltshisheadbackandlaughs,andItrynottoletmyeyeslingeronthesmoothexpanseofhisthroat,thewayhishaircurlsagainsthisearlobes.
Nicoistechnicallyhotter,butJakeis…magnetic.Inthesamegenreofprettyrichboy,buthewearsitdifferently.Thefactthathe’solderthanNicoispartofit,butit’ssomethingelse—Nicohastriedsohardtodenywhoheis,wherehecomesfrom.Jakejustownsit,andthatconfidenceandswaggerisappealing—notnearlytheturnoffIexpectedittobe.
“Comeon,”hesays,gesturingbacktowardthebeach.“Let’sdoalittleexploring.”
Iknowit’sabadidea,goingoffalonetogetherwhenI’mfeelingthisway.
Ifollowhimanyway.
WEWALKFORAWHILE,followingthecurveoftheshore.Wedon’ttalkmuch,butI’mveryawareofhowclosewe’restanding,ofthewaythebackofhishandbrushesagainstmineeverysooften.
Ifinishthebeerquickly,anditgoestomyheadmorethanonedrinkusuallydoes.Bythetimewestoptositdowninthesand,thelagoonandwhatIthinkofas“ourbeach”feelfaraway.Likewe’vefoundourownlittleisland,freefromeveryoneelse.
Thetreesaren’tquitesothickhere,andthesandypartofthebeachisnarrower,alittlecrescentofsandaroundtheblue,bluewatersofthelagoon.There’ssomethingliberatingaboutlookingoutandonlyseeingopenocean,nosignoftheSusannahortheAzureSkyonthehorizon.Fornow,Icanpretendthatwe’retheonlytwopeoplehere.
Leaningbackonhiselbows,Jakenodsouttowardthesea.“Itusedtofreakmeout,youknow.Openwaterlikethat.”
“Sailingseemslikeaweirdhobbytopickupthen,”Ioffer,andhisgrinmakesthedimpleinhischeekdeepen.Iwonderifhe’spracticedthatsmile,ifhe’sstudieditinthemirrorandknowntheeffectitwouldhaveonwomen.
“Touché,”heacknowledges,thenturnshisattentionbacktothewater.“ButIwasraisedaKelly,yousee,andalltheKellymensail.”
IthoughtagainofNico,learningtosailatsomeprepschoolinOregon,andwonderedhowtwoguyscouldbesosimilar,andyetalsosodifferent.
“WhatelsedoKellymendo?”Iask,andhetiltshisheadback.
“Theygotoponceyschools,bothathomeandabroad.IwenttoacoupleinAustralia,thendearolddadsentmetoEngland,ostensiblytostraightenmeout,butitdidn’treallytake.”
“Ah,soyouweretheprepschoolbadboy,gotit,”Ireply,andhelooksoveratmewithagrin.
“Neverthatbad,nottruly.”
“Whatashame.”Myfaceisflushed,andIfeelalmostdizzywithmyownrecklessness.IknowwhatI’mdoing,whatwe’redoing.Whateveritis,it’sdangerousandstupid,andI’mgoingaheadwithitanyway.
“So,tellme,”hegoeson,turningtofaceme.“WhatdotheMcAllisterwomendo?”
“Fuckthingsup?”Isaylightly,buthe’sstudyingme,andmyskinfeelstootight,andIlookbackoutatthesea.
Idecidetotellthetruth.“Wetrustthewrongmen,”Isay.“Mydad…Iguesshewasn’tabadguy,exactly.Justacarelessone.”
Hedoesn’treply,butIsensehimlistening.“HeleftwhenIwaseleven,buthekept,like,tryingthedadthing.Foralittlewhileatleast.Butthenhehadotherkids,soIguesshedidn’tneedtobemydadanymore.”
Isigh.“It’snotthathedidn’tcareaboutme,oreventhathedidn’twanttocare,Ithink.Hejust…couldn’t.Wasn’tcapableofit.”
IthinkofNicowithhischarmingsmileandcapablehands,withhisbigdreamsthatarealways,alwayshisdreams.Youcancomealong,sure.
Butthat’sallitis.Anemptyoffer,andanevenemptierpromise.
Jakelayshishandontopofmine.“IsitrudeifIsaythatyourdadsoundslikearealcunt?”
Thatstartlesalaughoutofme,andIshakemyhead,lookingathim.He’smovedcloser,andIknowwhat’sabouttohappen.
Iwonderifwe’vebeenheadingtowardthissincethefirstdaywemet.
Hishandisgrittyonmyfacefromthesand,andwhenherubsathumbovermylips,Itastesaltwater.Myheartispounding,stomachswooping,andIknowthisisstupid,Iknowit’samistake,Iknowitwilljustmakeeverythingworse.
ButIdon’tcare.
Notrightnow,withthesunbeatingdown,thetwoofuslikeAdamandEve,alonetogetherinthislittlestretchofparadise,asolitaryEden.
“Youshouldtellmetostop,”Jakemurmurs,hisgazeonmymouth.
“Ishould,”Iagree,andheliftshiseyestomine.They’realmostasblueastheseabeyondus,theskyoverhead
“Areyou?”
Ianswerbyleaningin,closingthegapbetweenus.
Hislipsaredry,butsoft,andwhenhishandtanglesinmyhair,Ifeelaboltoflustshootthroughme,sostrongthatmymouthopensevenmore,histonguepushingagainstmineashisfingerstighten,andmyhandpressesthedamphotskinofhisbarechest.
Inthismoment,itdoesn’tfeellikeamistake.Itfeelslikeitmightbeanotheradventure,onethat’ssolelymine.Forthefirsttimeinmonths,I’mdoingwhatIwant,notwhatNicowants.
Besides—whatNicowantsisAmma,apparently,sofuckhim.
Ideservethis.
It’sdifferentwithJake.
Mymindwon’tletmesaybetter,becauseevennow,evenafterallthat’shappened,Ifeeldisloyalsomehow.IhatethatNicostilltakesupenoughspaceinmyheartformetofeelalittlebadaboutthis.
ButNico’stheonlyguyI’vebeenwithforalongtime,soIcan’thelpbutcomparethetwo.
Jake’stouchisfirmer,moreconfident.Hetalkstomethroughout,askingwhatIwant,ifIlikethis,ifhecandothat.AndI’msayingyessomuchthatitjuststartstoblendintoachant,yesyesyesuntilI’mshakingandmyfingersaregrippinghishair,dampwithsweatatthenapeofhisneck,andthere’snoNicoandnoEliza,nothingexceptthetwoofushereonthisshadypatchofsandwiththePacificbehindusandcoconutpalmsoverhead.
Afterward,weliesidebyside,staringupatthesunlightfilteringthroughthefronds.“IfeellikeI’minamusicvideo.”
Helaughs,hisarmtighteningaroundme.“Ihavenoideaifthat’sacomplimentornot.”
“Oh,itis,”Ireply.“OrImeanittobe.”
ApartofmewondersifIshouldtellhimaboutNicoandAmma.ButifIdo,hemightthinkthiswasjustaboutrevenge.
Itwasalittlebitaboutrevenge,don’tgetmewrong.Butthatwasn’tallofit.Thiswasn’tsomeeven-up-the-scorekindofthing—NicofuckedAmma,soIfuckedJake.
Exceptnowthatit’sover,andI’mstartingtocomebacktomyself—rememberingwhereIam,whereweare—somethinglikeregretissinkingin.
NotsomuchforbetrayingNico,butshit,IlikeEliza.
Whathappensnow?
IturntoJake,abouttoaskhim,buthemustsensethequestionbecausehejusttapsthetipofmynose.“Oursecret,”hemurmurs.
“Sure,”Isay,relievedandyetalso,inexplicably,disappointed.“Oursecret.”
Justonemoretoaddtothepile.
Wegetdressed,brushingsandoffourselvesandeachother,andJakeleansintonuzzlemytemple,tokissmyneck,anditmakesmesmileevenasregretkeepssettlinginheavierandheavier.It’slikethenightafterMom’sfuneral,theadrenalinewearingofftoleavethiskindofsicksensationbehind,thissensethatIwalkedrightuptotheedgeofacliffandinsteadofbackingup,Ithrewmyselfover.
It’stheisland,Itellmyself.Nothingisrealhere.Nothingmatters.
“Let’strytocutthroughhere,”Jakesays,leadingmeoffthebeachandtowardthetreeline,andIhangback,lookingskepticallyupatthejungle.
“Didyouhideamacheteinthoseshorts?”Iask,andheflashesmeawinkoverhisshoulder.
“Oh,thequipsIcouldmaketothat.Butno,it’sjustnotasthickonthisside.”
“Howdoyouknowthat?”Iask,buthe’salreadyheadingin,andIfollow,relievedtobeoutoftheharshglareofthesun.
Jakeisright—thefoliageisthinnerinthispart,thegroundeasiertomaneuver,andwewalkinsilence,lightfilteringthroughtheleaves,theairthick.
EverystepItakebringsmeclosertohavingtofaceEliza,soI’mnotexactlyinarush.
Jakedoesn’tseemtobeinahurry,either,andwhenweseeavineofbrightpinkflowers,hesnapsoneoff,andtucksitbehindmyear,makingmeblush.
Whenheslipshishandintomine,Itakeit,lettinghimleadmedeeperanddeeperintothejungle.
Ihearrunningwaterafteraminute,andmysenseofdirection,completelyconfusedbythesamenessofeverything,wondersifwe’vesomehowcomeacrosswhatI’vestartedtothinkofasourpool.
Butwhenthetreespart,Iseewe’vecometoadifferentclearing,onethat’sdarkerandmoresecludedthanourlittleoasis.There’sawaterfallhere,too,butthewaterissluggish,tricklingdownintoamuchsmallerpool.There’saheavy,sicklysweetscenthangingintheair.
There’salsosomethingpaleattheedgeofthepool,andmybrainstrugglestomakesenseoftheshapeatfirst,thinkingalmostdazedly,Afoot,whydoesthatlooklikesomeone’sfoot?
Itisn’tuntilIhearJakemutter,“Fuckingasshole,”thatIrealizewhatI’mlookingatisRobbie’sbody.
TWENTY-THREE
I’veneverseenadeadbodybefore,notlikethis.
IwaswithMomwhenshedied,butthatwassterileandserene,surroundedbythebeepofmonitors,theantisepticsmellofthehospital.
Thisisnothinglikethat.
Ihangback,myhandclappedovermymouthasJakeapproaches.
“Whathappenedtohim?”Imanagetosay,andhesighs,rufflinghishair.
“Notsure.He’sfacedowninthewater.Idon’tseeanything…obvious.Thereareamillionwaystodieouthere,though.”
Hecrouchesdown,tugginghisshirtoverhisnose,andnudgesatsomethinglyingthereontheground.
It’sRobbie’sblackcanvasbag,andwhenJakepicksitupandstartsrifflingthroughit,Ihearmyselfsay,“Don’t!”
Helooksup,confused.“Itjustseemswrong,”Isay.“Goingthroughhisstuff.”
“He’sdead,Lux.He’lldeal,”hereplies,andthenhemakesanoise,akindofgruntashepullssomethingoutofthebag.
It’saknife,atrulyterrifyingbladelikesomethingoutofaslashermovie.It’scurvedwithajaggededge,thehandlemadeofsomethingthatlookslikebone,andwhenithitsthegroundjustafewfeetinfrontofme,Ifighttheurgetokickitaway.
Butthenhepullsoutsomethingelse.
“Hispassport?”Iask,recognizingthesmallnavyfolder.
“No,”hesays,flippingthroughit,thenrisingtohisfeet.“Yours.”
Iblink,myskinsuddenlycolddespitetheheat.
“What?”
“Yours,”Jakesays,openingthecoverandslappingitagainsthispalm.“Hemust’vetakenitwhenhebroketheradios.”
Ithadneveroccurredtometocheckmythingswhenwediscoveredthebrokenradios—itseemedsoobviousthatRobbiehadcomeaboardforonereasonandonereasononly.NowI’mrealizingthatIhaven’topenedmypurse,whichI’dshovedunderacabinetontheSusannah,sincewegothere.Allitheldwasmycellphone,mypassport,andsomecash—notexactlythingsI’dneededthepasttwoweeks.Ihadn’tevenopeneditupwhenI’dbroughtitonboardtheAzureSky,justtuckeditawayunderneathmyberthmattressforsafekeeping.
“Why?”Iasknow,foldingmyarmstightlyaroundme.“Whywouldhehavetakenjustmine?”
Jakeshrugs.“Yousaidyouhadaweirdmomentwithhim.Maybehewantedtopunishyou?Would’vemadesailingbackintoHawaiiarealpain,letmetellyouthat.”
Maybe.Ormaybe…
Ilookagainatthatknife,thinkingofRobbieouthereinthejunglewithit.
Theknife,andmypicture.
Waiting.
Plotting?
Jakeisprobablyright—itwasprobablyjusttofuckwithme,justtomakemylifealittlemoredifficultafterourconfrontationontheboat,butIthinkaboutallthetimesIfeltlikesomeonewaswatchingfromthejungle,andIshiver.
Scanningtheclearing,it’sobviousRobbiehadbeenstayinghere.There’sashirtdrapedoverabranch,theremnantsofalittlefire,andwhenIapproachit,Inoticetinybonesstrewnacrosstheground.
“Thefish,”Isay,andJakewalksover,kickingattheashandbones.
“Oh,thatstupidfucker.”Hesighs.“Wetoldhim,didn’twe?Bloodywelltoldhim.”
Itseemsclearnow.Robbiewasalwaystryingtocatchfish,andhefinallyhad,butthewrongones.It’seasytoimaginehim,sick,poisoned,crawlingovertothatpool,drinkingthebrackishwaterindesperation—soweakhe’dfallenfacedownintothewater,unabletolifthishead.
Anaccident.Astupid,shittyaccident.
Butareminderofhowquicklythisplaceturnsonpeople.
Howiteatsthemup.
“Wehavetotellsomeone,”Isay,andJakenods.
“Right,we’lllettheothersknowwefoundhim.”
“Notjustthem,”Ireply,frowning.“Like.Wehavetolet…Idon’tknow,thecoastguardorsomethingknow?Peoplemightbelookingforhim.”
“Lux,nooneislookingforthissadbastard,Ipromiseyouthat.Notourproblem.”
ThewordsaresocoldthatIalmosttakeastepback.“Wecan’tjustleavehimhere.”Jakesighs,reachinguptorubthebackofhisneckashelooksaround.“Well,I’mnotcarryinghimbacktoourbeach,areyou?”
“Don’tbeadick,”Isnap,andheholdsbothhandsout,walkingtowardme.
“Hey,”hesayssoftly.“I’msorry.But…”
Heholdsmyshoulders,lookingdownintomyeyes.“Lux,theguywasacreep,andpossiblydangerous.Youwererighttoworryhewasn’treallygone.Butit’snotourfaulthewentandpoisonedhimself,andI’dbelyingifIsaidweweren’talmostcertainlybetteroffforit.Surelyyoucanseethat.”
PartofmewantstorecoilatJake’swords,butthethingis…he’sright.
Inaway,hadn’tthisbeenwhatIwanted?ThatfirstmorningafterRobbiedisappeared,whenJakehadjokedaboutgettinga“huntingparty”together,hadn’tsomethingaboutthatideaappealedtome,mademefeelsafer?
IfeelmyselfnoddinginagreementandletJakepullmein,huggingmeclose.
“We’lltelltheothers,”herepeats,“andwhentheshipgetsherewiththeradios,we’llletthemknow.There’sreallynothingmorewecandountilthen.Nothingmoreweshoulddo.”
He’sright,andIknowit.
“Andtheshipgetsherewhen?”Iask.“Like,justafewmoredaysnow,right?Aweek?”
Jakestillsmellslikesaltandseaandme,andherestshischinonthetopofmyhead.“Nomorethanaweek.Maybeacoupleofdayslonger,dependingonhowtheirsailgoes,butsoon.”
Soon.
Soon,therewillbeotherpeoplehere.Soon,wecanleave.Soon,MeroeIslandwilljustbeamemory,aweirdstoryfrommycrazytwentiesthatIcantellatbarsandaroundcampfires.
IknowI’llnevertellthispart,though.NotmeandJakeandthisstolenafternoon,andnotRobbie,lyingonthejunglefloor,myeyesdrawntohisbodyoverandoveragainasweturntoleave,watchinguntilthejungleclosesbackaroundhim.
TWENTY-FOUR
BrittanyandElizaareonthebeachwhenwegetback,andseeingElizamakesmystomachchurnwithguilt.AfterfindingRobbie’sbody,I’dalmostforgottentheshameI’dfeltaboutJake,andnow,asshesmilesbrightlyandwaves,itallcomescrashingback.
I’veneverbeenthekindofgirlwhowentaftersomeoneelse’sboyfriend.I’venevercheatedinmylife.AndIlikeEliza.Alot.
“Thereyoutwoare!”shecallsout.“BrittanyandIwereabouttogosearching.”
Jesus,whatiftheyhad?Whatifthey’dcomeacrossuswhenwewere…
Theideamakesmymouthgodry,mykneessuddenlywatery.HowfuckingstupidandselfishI’dbeen.Howreckless.
“WhereareNicoandAmma?”Jakeasks,andBrittanysitsup,sandclingingtoherbareback.
“What’sgoingon?”
“Needtohavesomethingofagroupmeeting,”Jakereplies,andElizastands,hersmilefading.
“Jake,what’shappened?”
“Robbie,”isallhesays,andthen,thankgod,NicoandAmmawanderupbeforewehavetogolookingforthem.
“Somethingup?”Nicoasks,hiseyesdartingovertome.
Wehaven’ttalkedindays,andIhonestlythoughtI’dmisshimmore,eventhoughhe’dhurtme.Butthelongerwe’vegonewithoutspeaking,themoreI’vebeguntorealizethatNicoandIneverreallytalkedthatmuchinthefirstplace.Notaboutimportantthings,orstuffthatreallymattered.Everythingwasvague,theserosy-tinteddreamswithnoconcretedetailsthatallowedustoprojectwhateverwewantedontoeachother,withouteverneedingtoconfrontwhoweactuallywere,asacouple.Turnsout,weweren’trightforoneanother.Weneverhadbeen.
Ammaisjustbehindhim,herfacehiddenbyherhugesunglasses,herlowerlipcaughtbetweenherteethasshecrossesherarmstightlyoverhertorso.Ican’tseehereyes,butIknowshe’slookingatme.
“Robbie’sdead,”Isay,thewordsfallingoutofmymouthlikestones.
Jakeglancesoveratme,eyebrowsraised.“NobeatingaroundthebushforMissMcAllister,”hesays,evenasBrittanysays,“What?”andElizasucksinabreath.
Nicorubsthebackofhisneckthewayhedoeswhenhe’snervous.“Jesus,seriously?”
“Hewascampinginthejungle,”Igoon,stillseeinghisbodylyingthere,thebottomofthatoneshoe.“LikeI’dthought.Lookslikehecaughtsomeofthosefishoutinthelagoon.Thereallycolorfulones?”
“Thepoisonousones,”Jakeadds.“Soyeah.ThusgoethRobbie.”
“Fuck,”Nicosaysonanexhale.“Whatarewegoingtodoaboutit?”
“Theshipwiththeradiosgetshereinthenextweekorso,”Jakesays,shrugging.“We’llletthemknow.Ididn’tfindanyIDinhisstuff,andfuckknowswherehe’sanchoredhisboat.We’llletsomeoneelseworryaboutthat.”
“Well,”Elizasays,handsonherhips.“IwishIcouldsayIwassorryaboutit,buttheguywasacertifiedwanker.”
Shesoundslikeshe’smimickingJakeasshesaysit,hernormallycrispinflectionsslidingintothewidervowelsofhisAussieaccentforasecond.
“Howdidyoutwofindhim?”
Ammaisdefinitelylookingatmenow,andImakemyselfmeethergaze.
“Wewerejustcheckingoutthejungle,”Isay,willingmyselfnottoblush,formyeyesnottoslideguiltilytoEliza.
“Amancanonlytakesomuchsunandsandbeforehehastogoadventuring,”Jakeagrees,nodding,andhe’ssocasual,solight,givingnothingaway.
“God,youpoorthing,”Elizaclucks,comingforwardtochafeherhandsupanddownmyarms.“Thatmust’vebeenawfultosee.”
Idon’tdeservehersympathyrightnow,butItakeitanyway.
“Itwas,yeah.Butlikeyousaid,hewasn’tagooddude,andlikeJakesaid,we’ve…we’vedoneallwecando,really.”
“Doyouknowwhatweneed?”Elizasays,wrappingherarmsaroundmefromtheback.“Weneedaparty.”
“Becauseaguydied?”Ammaspeaksforthefirsttime,andhervoiceisicy.Elizashakesherhead,herhairbrushingovermyshoulders.
“Nothingthatmorbid,love.It’sjustthat…look,canwealladmitit’sbeenashittyfewdays?We’veallbeenoffinourownlittleworlds,there’sbeenallthistension,andwe’vestillgotaweekorsotowaithere.Wecan’tkeepgoinglikethis.So,Isayweloosenupabit,hmm?”
Leaningforward,sheplayfullypressesakisstomycheek.“Lux?Party?”
Itfeelswrongandmacabre,butit’snotlikeanythingelsesoundsbetter.Besides,itisreallyappealingtoimaginerecreatingthosefirstfewdaysonMeroe,beforeRobbieshowedup,beforeeverythinggotsofucked.
Areset.
“Idon’tknowthatabonfireandafewbottlesofwinecanhelpthatmuch,”Ammasaysnow,stilllookingoveratme.
“Ohdarling,”Elizasays,winkingatme.“We’vegotsomethingmuchbetterthanwine.”
THATNIGHT,WEBUILDAhugebonfire,sobigthatasIstandnexttoit,watchingtheflamescrawluptowardthesky,I’mactuallyalittleafraid.
Iimagineanember,aspark,catchingtheleavesoverhead,fireleapingfrombranchtobranch,allofMeroeIslandinstantlyaflame.
TheimageissoclearthatIcanalmostseeit,whichiswhenIknowthatIamreallyfuckedup.
Istayawayfromdrugsforthemostpart,butafteradaywheremynervesfeltliketheyhadbeenscrapedoverbarbedwire,oblivionhadsoundednice.Thethick,sweetsmellofhashhangsoverallofus,andmylimbsareheavywithitasIflopontothesandnexttoBrittany.
OrwhoIthinkisBrittany.
Butit’sAmma,hereyesdarkandshininginthefirelight.
“You,”Isay,studyingher,andhereyesseemevenshinierallofasudden,likeshemightstartcrying.
“I’msorry,”shesays.“AboutNico.I…ItoldyouheremindedmeofSterling,andIwastellinghimabouteverything,anditjusthappened,and—”
“Sterling?”Igiggle.“YourdeadboyfriendwasnamedSterling?”
Idon’tknowwhythat’ssuddenlysofunnytome,butitis,AmmaandSterling,likesomethingoutofaWASPfeverdream,andIfallbackonthesand,helplesswithlaughter.
“Youclearlyhavesomekindofrichboyfetish,”Iteaseher,onceIcatchmybreath.Shegivesalittlesheepishlaughandliesdownnexttome.
“Thisisweird,”shesays,andthenraiseshervoice,shouting,“Thisisweird!”
Thatmakesmelaughevenmore,andIlookupatthesky,too,thestarstiltingandswirlingaroundus.“Everythinghereisweird!”Iyellback,andthenIfeellikeI’mlaughingtoohard,likeatanymoment,itwillgivewaytotears.
Idon’twanttocry,soIstandup,pullingAmmatoherfeet,too,ourhandssweatyasweclaspeachother,turninginaslowcircle.
Can’tIforgiveher?Haven’tIdonethesamethingtoEliza?Andhowcanitmatterwhenwe’rehereinthisplacewherenothingisreal?
Acrossthefire,Nicositsalone,andJakeissittingtherewithEliza,andit’sjustlikeourfirstnightalloveragain—exceptIhadbeenwithNico,andJakewasjustthecuteguywiththenicegirlfriend,andhowdiditallgetsofuckedupsofast?
Ammapullsawayfromme,giggling,collapsingontothesand,andsuddenlyElizaisthere,too—howdidshemovesofast?Wasn’tshejustsittingwithJake?Butno,nowBrittanyisstandingintheshadows,whileNicotakesanotherhitfromthejointJakeisholding.
Timeisbothslowingdownandspeedingup,andI’mhappyandsadallatonce.ItakethejointElizaoffers,suckingmoreofthatthick,sweetsmokeintomylungs,thehashandthepotblendingtomakeeverythinghazy.
Istumblebackfromthefire,myeyelidsheavyaslanguorslipsthroughme.Everythingisheavynow,andIliebackdown,thesandcoolagainstmyhotskin.
Ismokedtoomuch,Ithinkdistantly,feelingtiredandstrangeallofasudden,myarmtooheavytolift,myheelsdiggingholesintothesand.
Theskyisstillspinning.
Ilookovertomyright,andeventhatfeelsliketoomucheffort,likemyheadhasbeenreplacedwithaheavystone,lollingonmyneck.
Nicoisthereattheedgeofthejungle,hisbodylimnedinfirelight.I’mnotmadathimanymore,andIwanttotellhimthat,butIcan’topenmymouth,can’tdoanythingbutliethereasNicosplitsintotwopeople,twoshadows.
TwoNicos.
Thatwillmakethingseasier.Ammacanhaveone,andIcanhavetheother.
Thethoughtmakesmelaugh,oritwouldifIweren’tsuddenlyfeelingsosleepy
ThetwoNicoshoverontheedgeofmyvision,butIseenowthatoneofthemissmaller,skinnier.
NottwoNicos.NicoandBrittany.
Iblink.No,notBrittany.ItmustbeAmmabecausethey’rekissingnow,theshadowsblendingintoone.
Inthefirelight,Amma’shairlooksdarker,andIseeNico’shandscomeup,likehemightpushheraway.
Buttheyonlyflutterthereforamoment,andthenhe’sholdingher,andthey’restillkissing,andIshutmyeyes,notwantingtosee.
WhenIopenthemagain,bothNicoandAmmaaregone.
BEFORE
AmmapeelsthelabeloffabottleofbeerinabarinCanberra,andwondershowsheletshitgothisfar.
ChloeandBrittanyaresittingatanothertable,aboothneartheback,withabunchofdudesinstripedshirtsandfrayingkhakis,andAmmaknowsit’sgoingtobeanothernightofwatchingthetwoofthemflirtandpreenandlaugh,andinthemorning,therewillberollsofcashintheirbagsthatthey’llinsisttheygotfromanATM,orawatchthatmust’vefalleninthereorsomeotherstupidshitlikethat,andthey’llgiveeachotherthoseknowinglooksbecausearen’ttheyclever,aren’ttheysmart,andisn’tAmmajustsotrustingandnaive?
Sheshouldgohome.
Shealmostdid,backinLondon.WhenBrittanyhadsuggestedfollowingChloetoAustralia,shethoughtitsoundedinsaneandstupid,andshecould’vesaidso.Justputanendtoitall.
ButsheandBrittanyhadembarkedonthisthingtogether,andshedidn’tfeelright,justleavingherwithChloe.
Chloewithherbrightsmileandhardeyesandfastfingers.
Itwasalmostadmirable,really.Howgoodshewasatsuckingpeoplein,makingpeopletrusther.And,asAmmakeptremindingherself,itwasn’tliketheseguyscouldn’taffordthelosses.SheunderstoodwhereChloewascomingfrom.
Shejustdidn’twanttobeapartofit.
Butshealsocouldn’tabandonBrittany.Ammaowesher.MorethanBrittanyknows
Shecanstillseeherself,giggling,thefunnelliftedhighasbeersliddownthetube,theFloridabreezesaltyandwarm,blowingherhairbackfromherface,herskinstilltinglingpleasantlyfromallthesunthatday.
Somanybeers,poureddownsomanythroats,andthenanemptycooler,Ammapouting,windingherarmsaroundherboyfriend’sneck.
“Babe,you’renotgonnaletagirlgobeerlessonspringbreak,areyou?”
Drunk,godhewassodrunk,hisbrowneyesstrugglingtofocusonherface,andsheknewit,sheknewhowwastedhewas,andshestillaskedhimtogooutformorebeeranyway.
Andhedid.
Andthefamilyofthree(four,familyoffour,theotheronesittinginherroomattheirbeachrental,pouting,notknowingthateverythingwasabouttobetakenfromherinoneblindingsmash)neversawhimcominguntilitwastoolate.
Sonowheresheis,inthisshittybarinthisboringcity,flatandgreenandfilledwithgovernmentbuildings,boringsuburbs.Thiswasn’ttheadventureshe’dplanned.
Itisn’ttheadventureBrittanyhadplanned,either,butshesureseemedtobehavingthetimeofherlife,herfaceflushedwithexcitementthatalltheseguysintheirnicesuitsthoughtwasforthem.
BrittanyandChloearegettingupnow,wavingtothedudes,andBrittanysignalstoAmmathatthey’releaving.
Shestillhasn’tfinishedherbeer,butshesetsitonthetableanyway.
Therewillbeanotherbarnow,anotherclub,untilChloedecidesthey’redoneforthenight.That’salwayshowitworks.
Butjustastheystepoutside,ahandcatchesChloe’sarm,pullingherupshort
Ammafreezes,theexcitementinherveinsdyingaquickdeathastheguy,somelawstudentinanicesuitandexpensiveglasses,glaresdownatChloe.
“Mywatch,”hesays,hisvoicetight,andAmmaseesBrittany’seyesgowide.
Chloeisjuststaringattheguy,givingadisbelievinglaughasshepullsherarmfromhis.“Idon’thaveyourfuckingwatch,mate,”shesays,butthenhe’sreachingintothebagathershoulder,andevenasshesquawksinoutrage,hepullsoutagoldRolex,hismouthpressedinahardline.
Chloefaltersonlyforaflash.Ammaactuallyseesit,themomenthermaskslips,andthemomentthatfollows,whereshequicklyregainsthearmorthatgetsherthroughlife.
“Mybagwasonthefloor,dickhead.Yourwatchprobablyfellintoit.”
“Sure,”hesays,andAmmaholdsherbreath,wonderingwhatwillhappennext.
Herheartispounding.She’sgottenusedtothemjust…gettingawaywithit.Theselittletheftsthathavefeltsoharmless.
Theyfeelalotlessharmlessnowwithpeoplelookingatthem,scowling,withStevethebartenderpickingupthephonebehindthebar.
ButthenChloesmilesattheguy,pressesincloser.“Hey,”sheallbutpurrs.“Tellyouwhat.I’llbuyyouadrinktomakeupformybagbeinginthewayofyourwatch,okay?”
Itshouldn’twork.Theguylookedpissedjustaminuteago,buttoAmma’sastonishment,thatsternexpressionslowlygiveswaytoareluctantsmile.
“Cheeky,”hemutters,andChloeshrugs.
Andthenhenods.“Fine,then.Leastyoucandoforcallingmeadickhead.”
Hegoesbackintothebar.Beforefollowinghim,ChloegivesBrittanyatinyshakeofherhead.“I’llcatchupwithyou,yeah?”shesays.
Chloedoesn’treturntothehosteluntilwellaftermidnight.
Ammaiswaitingforher,sittinguprightonherbed,longingforhomewithakindofvisceralacheshehasn’tfeltinforever.
“Wecould’vegottenarrested,”shehisses,keepinghervoicelow.“AndBrittanyandIcould’vegottenkickedoutofthecountryorhadourpassportstaken,or—”
“Okay,butnoneofthatshithappened,didit?”Chloesays,cuttingheroff.She’ssulleninthedimlight,alreadymovingtoopenawindow,apackofcigarettesinhand.
“Notthistime,”Ammareplies,tryingtokeephervoicedownevenasangerspikesthroughher.“Andonlybecausewewerelucky.”
“No,Amma,”Chloesays,herlighterflickinginthedark.“Youknowwho’slucky?Thosefuckingassholesatthebartonight.ThoseotherfuckingassholesinItaly.AllthesefuckingassholeswanderingaroundwiththeirRolexesandtheirfancycars,whogettojustwaltzofffromanyfuckingdisastertheyleaveintheirwake.That’swho’slucky.YouthinkBradybacktherewould’vemissedhiswatchforverylong?No,hewould’vegoneandboughtanotherone,andforgotheeverevenownedthatfirstone.Shitlikethatisdisposabletohim.”
Ammadoesn’tsayanything,butshethinksaboutapoolparty,threeyearsback.Aruinedwatch,forgottenonawrist,hislaughwhenshe’dpointeditout.Wantedanewoneanyway.
Chloesucksonthecigarette,thetipglowingbrightredbeforesheexhalesacloudofsmoke.“Wearedisposabletopeoplelikethat.”
Forthefirsttime,AmmarealizesthatChloeisnotjustinthisforagoodtime.She’sangry.Furious,even.
Andthatworrieshermorethanwhenshe’dassumedChloewasjustreckless,justthekindofpersonwhotookwhatshewantedanddamntherestofit.Wasn’tthatwhyshewastravelingaroundeverywhere,goingwhereverthedaytookher?
Brittanyhaswokenup,andshe’sperchedontheedgeofherbed,watchingasChloecrossestheroomtotakeAmma’shand.
“Don’twedeservesomething?”Chloe’sgripiscoldandtight,andhernailsdigintoAmma’sskin.Shecan’tpretendshe’snotintrigued,thatshedoesn’tfeelthatway,too,sometimes.TheunfairnessofhowmuchAmmahaslost,howmuchwastakenfromher,makesherwanttoscreamattheinjusticeoftheworld.Howcanonemistake—yes,onebigmistake,butstilljustthat,anaccident,asinglebadmomentofjudgmentinalifetimeofgoodchoices—endeverything?
Butthatdoesn’tmeantheycanjuststealfromstrangers.
Ammayanksherhandaway.“That’sjustanexcuse,”shesays.“Badshithappenstoeveryoneeveryday.Lifeisunfair.Butthatdoesn’tmeanwejustgettodowhateverthehellwewant.”
“Well,maybeitshould,”Chloesaysquietly.AmmawatcheshergazegotoBrittany—Brittany,who’swatchingthembothwiththosebigeyes—andAmmaknowsthatshe’slosttheargument.
Thenextmorning,Ammagoesouttograbacoffee,butwhenshepassesthebartheywereatlastnight,sheseesalineofpolicetapeacrossthedoor.Asmallcrowdhasgathered,peeringinside.
Herentirebodygoescold,andshealmoststepsforwardtoaskabystanderwhat’sgoingon.
Butshedoesn’t.
Shekeepswalking,herpulseracing,herstomachknotted,untilshe’sbackatthehostel.Inthelobby,shepullsoutherphoneandgooglesthenameofthebar.
There’salocalnewsstory,andhereyesskimthearticle,pickingupkeyphrases.
BradyHendrix,lawstudent,twenty-three,overdose…
Sad,obviously.Tragic,even.
Notcriminal,necessarily.Anaccident,mostlikely.
Itcanhappentoanyone.
ButAmma’shandsareshakingasshewalksbacktotheroom.ShekeepsseeingChloe’ssmileasshe’dfollowedBradybackintothebar.
BrittanyandChloearen’ttherewhenAmmareturns,butChloe’sbagissittingopenonherbed.
EvenasshepawsthroughChloe’sthings,Ammawonderswhatexactlysheexpectstofind—thewatch,awallet,somesignthatChloehadstolenfromBradyHendrixafterall?
Itstillwouldn’tmeanshehadanythingtodowithhimdying,Ammatellsherself,butsomethingdeepandprimalfeelsthatifsheseesthatwatch,she’llknowforsure.
Butthere’snothing—noRolex,nophone,noteventherollsofcashAmmahasgrownaccustomedtoseeingChloeandBrittanyflashproudly.
“Whatareyoudoing?”
Chloestandsthereinthedoorway,apapercupofcoffeeinonehand,Brittanyjustbehindher,andAmmatakesherhandoutofChloe’sbag.
“Nothing,”shesays,thenadds,“lookingforatampon.”
Chloe’smouthcurlsintoasmile.“Well,nowwefinallyknowwhyyou’vebeensuchabitchlately,”shejokes,andAmmaseesthewaysheandBrittanysharealook,hearsthesignificanceofwe.
Shecanfeelthecircleclosing.Ammaisontheoutsidenow.
NOW
TWENTY-FIVE
Iwakeuponthebeachthenextmorningandforasecond,IthinkImustbedying.
Icanbarelyrememberthenightbefore—ahazeofsmokeandfire—andthoughI’donlysmokedhashoncebeforeinmylife,Ididn’trememberitmakingmefeelthiswretched.I’dsellmysoulrightnowforabottleofwater,andIslowlystand,brushingstraysandfromthebacksofmylegsbeforeturningtowardthelagoon.
Thesunhasjustcomeup,paintingtheskyarosypink,andthewaterisstill,glassy.
It’ssobeautifulthatittakesmeamomenttorealizethere’ssomethingwrongwithwhatI’mseeing.
Tomyleft,theAzureSkyfloatscontentedlyinherusualspot.
Butshe’stheonlyshipinthelagoon.
TheSusannahismissing.
BRITTANYISCURLEDUPINamoundofblanketsbehindme,andwhenIshakeherawake,hereyesarealittleswollen,herlipsdryandflaky.
“What?”shemutters,andIpointwordlesslytowardthewater.Shestaresblanklybeforerealizingwhathassentmystomachplummeting.
“WhereistheSusannah?”Shesitsup,wideawakenow.“Andwhere’sAmma?”
Itallcomesbacktome.Thepartylastnight.NicohadbeenkissingAmma.Mydrug-addledbrainhadinitiallythoughtitwasBrittany,butgivenwhoNico’sbeenfucking,itwasdefinitelyAmma.
Andnowtheboatisgone,andBrittanyandIarealoneonthebeach.
Theotherday,I’dthoughttheislandwasstartingtofeelclaustrophobic.Now,lookingoutatthatwideexpanseofwater,Ifeelimpossiblysmall.IfNicohasleftusbehind…
No.
No,hewouldn’tdothat.Nicoisalotofthings,andI’veonlyrecentlyrealizedhowshittysomeofthosethingsare,buthe’snotthatkindofasshole.Hewouldn’tjustabandonme,leavemealonewiththesestrangers,andtakeoffwithsomenewgirlonsomenewadventure.
Wouldhe?
“WeneedtotellJakeandEliza,”Isay,andheadfortheshoreline.
I’mstillinmyshortsandT-shirtfromlastnight,butIdon’tcare,throwingmyselfintotheoceanandswimmingfortheirboat.It’sjustafewyardsaway,andthewaterissowarmandstillthatitmakesforaquickswim.
Hoistingmyselfuponthedeck,IpushwethairoutofmyeyesandlookbacktowardwheretheSusannahusuallyis,stillstruckbyitsabsence.
“Lux?”
Iturn.
Ammaisonthedeck,half-sprawledononeofthebenchesalongthebow.Shelooksalittleworseforwear,herhairatangledmess,hereyesredassheblinksatme.
Relieffloodsthroughme.
Nicodidn’ttakeAmmawithhim.
Thedoorseparatingthecabinfromthedeckslidesopen,andJakeandElizaemerge,sleepyandrumpled,yetsomehowstillgoldenandbeautiful.
“What’sgoingon?”Elizaasks.
Igestureouttothelagoon.“Nico’sgone.Oratleast,theboat’sgone.”
Bynow,Brittanyisondeck,wringingoutherwethair,andallfiveofusstandattheportsideoftheAzureSky,lookingattheopenwater.
“What?How?Ididn’tevenhearanythinglastnight,”Jakesaysinconfusion.“Although,Iguesswewereallprettyoutofit.”
HeturnstoAmma.“WhendidyoulastseeNico?”
I’munpreparedforhowmuchthisstings.ForhowquicklyAmmahasbecomeTheOneWhoWouldKnowWhereNicoIs,becauseclearly,Isureasfuckdon’t.
“Onthebeachlastnight.Themoonwaspretty,andIwas,youknow.Superhigh,soIswamout.Gotkindofconfusedandclimbeduphere,wenttosleep.”Sheshrugs.“It’sallkindofablur,honestly.”
IlookbacktowheretheSusannahshouldbe,likeIcansomehowwillittoreappear.Lastnightwasablur,andwewereallfuckedup.IsthathowNicowasabletosailawaywithnoonehearinghim?
Istandthere,handsgrippingmyhair,andmystomachsomersaulting.Jakestepsforward,takingmyarm.“Hey,hey,hey,”hesaysinasoothingvoice.“Don’tpanic,okay?He’sprobablyjustgoneforasail.Maybehewantedsometimealoneonthewatertoclearhishead.”
“ThisisnotafuckingJimmyBuffettsong,it’sreal,”Isnap.“Andifsomethinghappenstohimoutthere—”
Jake’sCoolGuythingisirritating.Yesterday,I’dfoundhislaid-backcharmrefreshingandmorethanalittlesexy.Today,Ijustwishsomeonewouldpanicwithmealittlebit.
Butnooneisgoingto.
BrittanyistuggingattheendsofherdamphairwhileElizahasherarmsfoldedoverherchest,simplywatchingthisallplayout.
Ammascrubsherhandsoverherfacebeforereachingintoacanvasbagatherfeet.ShepullsoutherphoneandIfeelthisimmediate,instinctualsurgeofrelief.Yes,we’llcallhisphone,we’llcallsomeone—
“Fuck,”shemutters.
Brittanylooksoverandrollshereyes.“Youknowthere’snosignalhere.”
Givingafrustratedsound,Ammatossesherphoneontoastackofstripedtowelsonthedeck.“Iknow,butIjustthought…Idon’tknow,IthoughtI’dtry.”
Mythroatclosesup,sweatpricklingalongmyspine.Beingoffthegrid,fullydisconnected—ithadfeltsofreeingatfirst,butitfeelslikeatrapnow,liketherearejawsclosingaroundus.Noradiostocontacttheoutsideworld,nowaytoevencontacteachotherifwegetseparated…
We’reonourown.
Andwhilethatthoughthadoncefilledmewithsomethingclosetoelation,nowthere’sonlypanic.
Ammarunsherhandsthroughherhair,lookingaround,andthenshe’soverthesideoftheboat,herlongarmscuttingsmoothstrokesbacktothebeach.
Thefuck?
“Lux,listen,”Jakesaysnow,steppingforwardagainbutkeepinghishandstohimself.“Ifhe’snotbackinafewhours,we’llworry.Butfornow,let’sjustrelaxandassumehewokeupfeelingasfuckingrankastherestofus,andthoughtgettinganoceanbreezewouldhelp.”
It’sperfectlyrational,butthemoodontheislandhasbeenuneasyeversinceRobbieshowedup,likethere’sastormabouttobreak,andIjustwishitwouldalready.IwishIhadanexcusetoscreamandlosemyshit.
Instead,Inod.I’llkeepittogetheralittlelonger.I’llwait.
ISWIMTOTHEBEACH,hopingtocatchAmma,butshe’salreadydisappeared.
IsitonthesandandletittrailthroughmyfingersasIwatchthehorizon.Jakeisright,Nicoprobablyjustneededtostretchhislegs,sotospeak.MaybeevengethisheadstraightaboutmeandAmma.Theislanddoesfeelsmall,cramped.Likeit’sclosinginonus.
Evennow,asIlookbackovermyshoulder,Iswearthejunglefeelscloserthanitdidyesterday.Iturnmyattentionbacktothelagoon,tryingtoignorethefeelingthatsomething—orsomeone?—iswatchingmefromthetrees.
He’sontheothersideoftheisland,Itellmyself.He’llbebackanyminutenow.
Thewaterlapsagainsttheshore.Whenwefirstgothere,Ifoundthatsoundsopeaceful,socomforting.Now,itgratesonmynerves.
Thedaywearson.Brittanycomestobringmesomewaterandextrasunscreen,sitswithmeforabit,theneventuallyheadsbacktoJakeandEliza’sboat.
Soon,thesunissetting,turningtheskythatsameblazeofbrilliantorangeandpinkthatenchantedmemyfirstnighthere.Seeingitnowmakesmystomachtwistinknots.Sunsetmeansnightisalmosthere,andifNicoisn’tbackbythetimeit’sdark…
Istillcan’tcomprehendthatheleftmehere.Butthenagain,Ineverwouldhavethoughthewouldcheatonme,rightundermynose.Thetruthis,IhavenoideawhatNicomightbecapableof.TheNicoImetinSanDiego,theNicowhopromisedtoshowmetheworld,hewouldn’tdothis.
ButNicholasJohannsenIII?Whothefuckknows?
MymindflashesbacktoSusannah,standingonthatdock,hereyesred.Goodluck.AlongsidetheimmediatefearofhowthefuckwillIgetoffthisisland,there’sadeeperanxietythatIcan’tshake—thatIhadbeenwillingtoputmyfaithinamanIneverreallyknew.Neverreallycaredtoknow.Likeeverythingelseinmylife,Ijustletit—letNico—happentome.Hewascute,helikedme,heofferedmeanescape.AndItookit,ignoringsomuchshitthatIshouldn’thave,andnowI’mhere,onthisislandinthemiddleofnowhere,noboat,noclothes,nowayofcontactingtheoutsideworld.
NoNico.
Ihadbeenlookingforanescape,andnowIamquiteliterallytrapped.
I’mstillsittingonthebeachwhenthesunsinksbelowthehorizon.MyeyesstrainforthatflashofgreenNicoalwaystoldmeyoucouldseeifyoulookedcarefully.Butthere’snothing.Anotheremptypromise.
Theskyfadesfrompinkish-orangetolavendertodeeppurpleuntilfinallytheskyisnavyblue,thestarssobrighttheystandoutlikesequinsonaneveninggown.
Idon’trealizeI’mcryinguntilItastethesaltonmylips.
TWENTY-SIX
Iswimbacktotheboat,nolongercaringwhatmightbelurkinginthedarkwater.
IhearJakeandElizatalkingandlaughing,thehissandclinkofbeersbeingopened.
Nicohasbeenmissingtheentireday,andtheseassholessithereactinglikeeverythingisfine,likeit’sjustanothernightinparadise.
WhenIhaulmyselfontothedeck,Elizalooksoveratme,eyesgoingwide.
“Jesus,Lux,”shesays.“Areyoualright?”
Pushingmywethairoutofmyface,Iglareather.“Whatdoyoufuckingthink?Nicoisn’tback,”Isay,shakingmyhead.“AndIdon’tknowwherethefuckAmmais,either.Haveyouguysjustbeen…sittinghereallfuckingday?”
Jakesighs,puttinghisbeerdownandcrossingthedecktoembraceme.Ijerkawayfromhim,nearlystumbling.
“Whyisnooneworried?”Ishout.“Whydononeofyougiveafuck?Nicoisgone.Theboatisgone.Robbiefuckingdiedoutthere,andAmmaisjust—what,spendingthenightinthejungle?”
StandingonthedeckoftheAzureSky,it’shardtorememberthatfirstnighthere,justovertwoweeksago,whenI’dletmyselfbelieveI’dfoundsomethinglikeahomewiththesepeople.
Whathadfeltcozythenfeelsoppressivenow,thewaterdarkaroundus,lockingusin.
Nicocouldbeinthatwater.
Brittanyemergesfromthecabin,acartoonishexpressionofconcernonherface.
“What’sgoingon?”
“LuxisupsetaboutNico,”Elizasays,hertonejustshyofpatronizing.
IfeellikeI’vesteppedintosomekindoftwilightzone.WhyiseveryoneactinglikeI’mblowingthiswayoutofproportion?EvenBrittany,whoonlymakesasympatheticcluckingnoiseasshecomesuponthedeck,herarmsoutstretched.“Lux,”shesays,asifI’machildthrowingatantrum.“WoulditbeallthatstrangeifhehadjustgonebacktoMaui?”
Igapeather.“Um,yes?He’smyboyfriend.Hewouldn’tjustleavemeonadesertedisland?Besides,you’retheonewhopaidhimtotakeyouhereandback.”
Shedropsherarms,tiltingherheadtooneside.“Yeah,but—isNicoreallythekindofguyyoucancounton?”
Youdidn’tthinkhe’dsleepwithAmma,buthedid.
Youdidn’tthinkhe’dgiveyouafucked-uplifelineduringastorm,buthedid
Youdidn’tknowhimatall,didyou?
Andhedidn’tknowyou.
“Lux,”Elizasays,movingcloser,acloudofherperfumeenvelopingme.Herexpressionisgentle,hervoicesoft.“DiditeveroccurtoyouthatmaybehefoundoutaboutyouandJake?”
Myheartseemstostopbeatinginmychest,andtheskinthatwasburningupjustaminuteagogoesicy.
“W-what?”
IlooktoJake,whosefaceisunreadable,thentoBrittany.
There’snoshock,nosurprise.
Sheknew,too.
Theyallknew.
MygazeswingsbacktoJake,butElizaisalreadyshakingherhead.“Jakedidn’tsayanything.I’mjustnotafuckingidiot,youknow?‘Exploringthejungle.’Please.Anyonecouldhavepickedupon”—sheliftsherhands,makinganelegantgesturebetweenmeandJake—“thevibes,asitwere.Andhonestly,Lux,I’mnotupset.Thesethingshappen.”Shegivesashrug.“Whyshouldanyofuscutourselvesofffromexperiences?”Shereachesupandbrushesmyhairbackfrommyface.“Butnoteveryoneissoenlightened,arethey?”
AplaintivecryofIwanttogohomeswellsupinmythroatlikeI’malittlegirl.HowdidIeverthinkthesepeople—thesebeautiful,glittering,fakepeople—weremyfriends?
Theboatrocksgentlyonthedarkwater,andthestarsarethickoverhead,glisteningagainstallthatblack,andI’mtrappedinanightmareIcannotwakeupfrom.
ButtherealizationthatNicomighthaveknownwhathappenedwithJakechangeseverything.
Elizaissmilinginawaythatchillsme.“IsitreallysohardtoimaginethatNicomighthavedecidedtoleaveonceheknewyou’dcheatedonhim?”
“Hedidn’t.”
WeallwhiparoundtoseeAmma,pullingherselfuptheswimladder,waterstreamingoffher.She’spale,herhairistangled,andthere’ssomethinginhereyesthatseemswildandangry.
“Hisboatisontheothersideofthefuckingisland,”shesays,andmyworldtiltsalloveragain.
“He’snotonit,though,”shecontinues,stillshivering.“Andthedinghyisthere.”
“Thenwhereishe?”Iask,panicmakingmyvoicethinandreedy,eyesstillwildlyscanningthebeach,asifhe’sgoingtoemergefromthejungleandstartwavingtous.
“Whatdidyoudotohim?”Amma’svoiceissteadyandcold.Iwhiparound,assumingthatthequestionisdirectedatJake.
ButAmma’sgazeisfixedonEliza.
“Whatdidyoudo?”shescreams,andthenshe’slaunchingherselfacrossthedeck.
Chaoserupts.Ammaisshoutingandcrying,Elizaisfendingoffherflailingfists,Jakeistryingtobreakthemapart,whileBrittanyhangsback,sobbing,“Stop,Amma,stop!”overandoveragain.
ImanagetogetaholdofAmma,pressingmythumbintothedelicatejointatherwrist.“Amma,JesusChrist,stop,”Icry.“Elizawouldn’tdoanythingtoNico.”
AmmadropshergriponEliza,andwhirlsaroundtofaceme.
“Youstupidbitch,”shesnarls.“Youthinkthesepeopleareyourfriends?Youthinkyouhaveanyfuckingcluewhat’sgoingonhere?”
“Oh,becauseyou’reonetotalkaboutfriends,aren’tyou?”Brittanyyells,hereyeswild,andthenshelooksatme.
“IknowthatAmmatoldyou.Aboutwherewemet.Aboutmyfamily.”
Brittany’svoicegoestight,herwordsthickandwatery,andInod,confused.
“Andherpoor,deadboyfriend,right?”
ThefightgoesoutofAmma.Hershoulderssink,andsheseemstostaggeralittle.
“Youknew,”shesays,hervoicesuddenlyflat.“Iknewyouknew.Oryou’dfindoutbeforeIcouldexplain,butBrittany—”
“Well,Lux,”BrittanycontinuesasifAmmahadn’tspoken,“here’safunfactforyou.Herboyfriendisn’tdead.Justinprison.Doyouwanttotellherwhy,Amma?”
Thenightseemstobespinningaroundus,theboatrockingunderourfeet,skyandwaterdark,andElizaisholdingBrittany’sarm,andAmmaisreachingoutforBrittanyjustasJakecomesforward,alwaysthepeacemaker,hisarmsout.
Ammamustthinkhe’sreachingforherbecauseshethrasheswildly,andherelbowcatchesmehardintheface.
Painexplodesaroundmynose,andmyvisionspangleswithstars,thengoesdark.Ifeelarushofbloodpouringdownmyface.
Ican’tbesurewhathappensnext.
Theyellingcontinues,andI’mbackingaway,butAmmaisstilladvancingonme,andI’mslippingindropsofmyownblood,Ammaisreachingforme,I’mpullingback…
Sheslamsintome.Doesshestumble?Wasshetryingtotackleme?Wasshepushed?I’llneverknow.Butthetwoofusaresuddenlyfallingthroughspace,andthenthewaterclosesovermyhead,assaltyandwarmasthebloodstillgushingfrommynose.
It’sdark,andI’minpain,thesaltwaterstingseverything.Amma’shandsarestillgraspingforme,andthenshehasaholdofme,andmybrainisscreamingforair,forfreedom.
Suddenly,thatdaywiththeshark—theimageofmyfootconnectingwithherjaw,savingme,doomingher—flashesthroughmymind.
Itwasn’tjustafantasy.
Itwasapremonition.
Amma’shandsarestillonme,preventingmefrombreakingthesurface,andIkickandshove,andthere’sahollow,clangingsound.
Amma’shandsfallfromme.
Thereareshoutsfromabove,someonecallingmyname,butinmypainandpanic,Ijustswim.
Backtoshore.Getbacktoshore,findNico’sboat,findoutwhathappened,go,go,go…
Mymusclesburn,mylungsareonfire,andtheshoreseemsimpossibletoreach.Until,suddenly,I’mthere,onmyhandsandkneesinthesand,panting,gagging.
Itrytocrawlfarther,butmybodygivesout,andIcollapse,theworldspinningintodarkness.
WhenIopenmyeyesagain,theskyisasoftpink,stillnavyattheedges,thesunnotyetoverthehorizon.
Morning.Noonehascomeforme,andwhenIliftmyhead,allIseeisemptywater.
TheAzureSkyisgone.
I’mcompletelyalone.
There’scrustedbloodundermynose,aroundmymouth,onmychin,andIsitupindisgust,swipingatit,wincingatthesoreness,panicalreadybeatingafrantictattooinmyblood.
I’malone,theyleftme,theyleftme,I’maloneonthisislandandthere’snowater,there’snofood,I’malone.
Istandandwadeintotheshallows,cuppingmyhandstosplashmyface,mywholebodyshakingasItrytobreathe,trytothink
Outofthecornerofmyeye,Iseesomethingpalenexttome,lyingontheshore
Ahand,palmup,fingerscurled.
Ifollowthathandupalong,slenderarmtothesleeveofablackT-shirt.
Ammaislyinginthewater,lookingupatthesky,hereyeswideandhorribly,horriblyblank.
Dead.
BEFORE
“I’msorry,darling,butitseemedbesttotellyouthetruth.”
BrittanysitsonabenchwithChloeinapark.They’restillinCanberra,andeventhoughitwouldbespringbackhome,it’sautumnhere.Theleavesareturning,thesunisstillwarm,butthebreezehasgrowncool.ShestaresatthephoneChloehashandedher,hereyesfixedonthepicture.
It’sfromtwoyearsago.
It’sAmmasmilingwide,onsomeone’sFacebookpage.She’salittlethinnerthansheisnow,andherhairisshorter,barelybrushinghershoulders.
HerarmsarewrappedaroundaboywhosefaceissofamiliartoBrittany,afaceshesawinacourtroom,afaceshestillseesinhernightmares.
SterlingNorthcutt.
Theman—no,theboy,theboy,hadn’tthejudgekeptcallinghimaboy?Oh,thisfineupstandingboy,neverdidanythingwrongbefore,nevereveruntilhegotsuperfuckingloadedonenight,gotbehindthewheelofacar,andwipedoutBrittany’sentirelife—whokilledherfamily.
“Idon’tunderstand,”Brittanysays,herbodystillnumb,herheartslowingtohalfitsnormalspeedasshelooksatAmma,herbestfriend—theonepersonwhoactuallyunderstoodhowaloneBrittanyfelt—withherarmswrappedaroundthemanwhoruinedherlife.
Amelia-MarieandSterling,CUUUUTIESINLUUUUUUV,thecaptionreads,andBrittanykeepslookingatthatname,Amelia-Marie,wonderingifmaybethere’samistake,knowingthatthere’snot.
Amma.
“Yousaidyoumetherinagriefgroup,right?”Chloeasks,andBrittanynods,rememberingtheroomwithitssmellofburntcoffee.HowAmmahadpickedtheemptychairnexttoher;how,whenBrittanyhadtoldthestoryofwhathadhappenedtoher,Ammahadn’tsaidanything—hadsimplynodded,reachedover,andtakenherhand.Atthetime,BrittanyhadbeengratefulthatAmmahadn’tpushedherformoredetails,hadn’taskedanyfollow-upquestions.Now,Brittanyrealizes,Ammahadalreadyknowneverythingtherewastotell.
TherehadbeentearsstreamingdownAmma’sfaceduringthatfirstsession,andseeingherbreakdown,Brittanyhadfeltawaveofrelief.Howniceithadbeen,tohaveastrangersharehergrief.Howgooditfelt,tonolongerbesoalone.
“Shemusthavebeen,like,stalkingyouorsomething,”Chloegoeson.“Sheliedabouthavingadeadboyfriendtogetclosetoyou?It’sjust,incrediblyfuckedup.Andnotonlythat,she’sloaded.”
Morepictures,morelinks.
AmmaatherfancyCatholicschool,photosfromhermother’sFacebookpageofAmmaalldresseduponahorse—afuckinghorse!—andanotherofAmmawhenshewasyounger,standinginfrontoftheEiffelTowerwithherparentsandtwooldergirls.
Oddlyenough,that’stheonethattakesBrittany’sbreathaway.
“Shesaid…shesaidshe’dneverbeentoParis.”
Chloeputsanarmaroundher.“Jesus,whatalyingbitch.”
Brittanyshakesherhead,hereyeswellingwithtears.“Sheliedtomeaboutallofit.Aboutherfamily,aboutherbackground.Aboutwhereshe’slivedandtraveled.Why?”
“Peopleareweird.”Chloesighs.“Maybeitwassomekindofatonementorsomething?Like,‘Sorrymyboyfriendkilledyourfamily,letmemakeituptoyoubybeingyourfriend’?”
ThewordsmakeBrittanywince,andherstomachclench.HadAmmabeenthereinthatcourtroom?HadsheseenBrittany?Shemusthave.Allofthishadtohavestartedonthatawfulday.
“Ormaybeshewasjustcuriousaboutyou,youknow?”Chloeadds.“Inanycase,it’sprettyfuckedup.Andit’saprettycomplicatedlietocommitto.”
It’smorethanfuckedup.It’sabetrayalthatBrittanyalmostcan’tfathom,andshe’ssuddenlysoangry,sofuckingfurious…
“Howdidyoufindout?”sheasks.
Chloejustshrugs.
“Somethingaboutherwholevibejustdidn’tfeelright,youknow?So,Ilookedherup.Founditallinacoupleofminutes.”
Ofcourse.Ofcourse,allthoseanswerswererightthere,butBrittanyhadnevereventhoughttogoogleher,hadbelievedAmmawhenshesaidshedidn’treallydosocialmedia,thatafterwhathappenedtoherboyfriend,shetriedtominimizeherinternetpresenceasmuchaspossible.AndBrittanyhadjust…trustedher.
Shehadfuckingtrustedher.
“ButIguessthequestionnowis,”Chloegoeson,“whatarewegoingtodoaboutit?”
Brittanydoesn’tknowtheanswertothat.ConfrontAmma?Showherwhatshe’sdiscovered?
Shecanpictureit.Morning,Amelia-Marie,she’llsaysnidely.
Butthat’snotenough.Itwouldshockher,maybeupsether.
Butitwon’thurther.
Brittanyshakesherhead.“Ihavetothinkaboutit,”shefinallyreplies.
“Ofcourse,”Chloesays,droppingherlighterinherbag.Asshedoes,Brittanycatchesaflashofgold,seesthebandofawatchlyingthere,anditseemsfamiliar—buthonestly,she’sseensomanyfuckingwatches,chains,evenringslately,thatshecan’tbesure.
CHLOEISN’TTHEREWHENTHEYwakeupthenextmorning.
Foralongtime,Brittanyrefusestobelieveshe’sgoneforgood.
“She’sjustgonetogetcoffee,”shesaystoAmma.“She’llbeback.”
Butthedaydragson,thetwoofthemsittingintheirbunks,playingontheirphones,andChloe’sbedstaysempty.
There’snonote,notext.Nothingleftbehindatall,likeChloesimplyvanishedinthenight.
LikemaybeChloehadneverreallyexisted.
Ammawouldlikethat,Brittanythinks,herthoughtsturningdarkerthelongerChloeisgone.
Chloewashertruefriendinallthis.Chloe,whowasactuallyfun,whohadkeptthemtraveling,keptthemfromreturninghomewhereeverythingwouldbebleakandsad.
Chloe,who’dactuallybroughtBrittanyintotheafter.
Chloe,whowasactuallyhonestwithher,asopposedtoAmma,who’dliedoverandoveragain.
ThethirddaythatChloe’sbeengone,Ammasitsupinherbunk.Thereareshadowsunderneathhereyes,andherhairistangledaroundherface.ShelooksasroughasBrittanyhaseverseenher,andthatfillsherwithapettysortofjoy.
“Look,”Ammasays,sighing,“Ithinkshe’sprobablytakenoff.Imean,thisiswhereshe’sfrom,right?Maybeshewenthome.BacktoSydneyorwherever.”
BrittanywantstoarguethatChloewouldn’tjustbailonthemwithoutsayinggoodbye,butinstead,shenods.“Maybe.”
“AndIgottabehonestwithyou,I’mfeelingreadytogohome,too.”Ammaoffersheratinysmile.“Oratleast,mybankaccountisreadyformetogohome.”
Exceptthatyou’rerich,Brittanythinks.Exceptthatwhenyougohome,therearepeoplewaitingforyou.Youstillhaveafamily.AndSterlingmaybeinjail,buthe’llbeoutoneday.
That’sthepartBrittanyfindsthehardesttowraphermindaround.Allthesemonthsofsharingtheirgrief,ofleaningononeanother,ofunderstandingoneanother,anditwasallbullshit?Ammahadpeopletogobackto.Ammahadsisters,amother,afather.Theworstthingthathadhappenedtoherwasthatherboyfriendwasinjail.
Andshe’dletBrittanybelievethattheywerethesame.Nowherimpatiencemadesense.HerbarelyconcealedexasperationwhenBrittanywouldlosewholenightscrying.
Ithurtssomuchtothinkabout,thatforasecond,Brittanyfeelslikeshecan’tbreathe,likethere’ssomethingstabbingherinherchest.
Ammawasneverreallyherfriend.
ButChloehadbeen,andnowshewasgone.
“Fine,”Brittanysaysnow,gettingoffherbunkandpullingherbagtowardher.“Wecangohome.”
“We’vehadagoodtime,right?”Ammaoffers.
“Thebesttime,”Brittanysays,ignoringthetightnessinherthroatasshepawsthroughherbagforcleanclothes.Buyingatickethomeisgoingtocompletelywipeherout,butthere’sstillthatrollofcashChloegavehertheothernight,andmaybeshecanexchangeitforUScurrencyattheairport—
Herhandbrushessomething,andshefrowns,staringintoherbag.
It’saphone.
Notherphone.That’sstillpluggedinbesideherbunk.Thisisanewphone,andshewondersifshepickeditupbyaccidentorifithadfallenintoherbagsomehow.
Sheturnsitover,andseesatextmessageonthescreen.
Surprise,gorgeous!
Chloe.
HerbackstilltoAmma,Brittanystudiesthephone,readingtheseriesoftextsChloehassent,somethingjoyfulanddarkunfurlinginherheart.
Chloedidn’tabandonherwithAmma.
Whatdoyousay,love?Chloe’slasttextreads.MeetyouinthePacific?
Theiradventuresaren’tover—they’rejustbeginning.
Droppingthephonebackinherbag,BrittanyturnstoAmmawithasmile.“Whatifwedidonequickdetourbeforeheadinghome?”
NOW
TWENTY-SEVEN
Istumbleawayfromthebeachinhorror.Thefightlastnightfeelslikeablurnow,likesomethingthathappenedtosomeoneelse.Thescreaming,thefallingoverboard,thesaltwaterinmymouth…itcouldbeadreamifitweren’tforAmma’sbody,makingitsofuckingreal.
Idon’tknowwhereI’mgoingasIweavemywayupfromtheshore.Thejunglepathweclearedisseveralyardstotheleftofme,thevegetationherealmostimpenetrable,butIthrowmyselftowarditanyway,likealittlekidlookingforaplacetohideaftershe’sdonesomethingbad.
I’mnotwearingshoes,andthevinescutatthesolesofmyfeetasItrytopushmywaythrough,sweatstillpouringoffmeeventhoughmyteetharechattering.
Athornpiercesmypalm,andthepainissosharpandstunningthattearsimmediatelyspringtomyeyes.Butdon’tIdeservethepain?Hadn’tAmmahurtwhenshe’drealizedshecouldn’tbreathe,herlungsscreamingforair?
BloodsmearsthevinesasIpushdeeperintothejungle.
It’sdarkerinhere,andIkeeppushingmyselfback,back,back,awayfromAmma,awayfromtheothersfindingoutwhatI’vedone,awayfromallofit.
Lightfilterseerilythroughthetreeshere,castinglong,strangeshadows.Icradlemystinginghand,wrappingitinthehemofmyT-shirtasIlookaround,tryingtogetmybearings.
AmmahadsaidthattheSusannahwasontheothersideoftheisland.Cuttingthroughthejungleisonlyabouttwomiles,andIcaneasilydothat.IfIcangettotheboat,evenifNicoisn’tonit,thenatleastI’llhaveawaytogetthefuckoutofhere.Icouldwaitfortheshipwiththeradios,buthowwillIexplaintowhoevershowsupthattherearetwodeadbodiesonthisisland,andonlyme,allalone?
Theheatintheisland’sinteriorisalwaysintense,wherethebreezeofftheseacan’treach.Thevinesthatsnakeacrossthegroundarefibrousandrough,liketryingtowalkoversandpaper,anditdoesn’ttakelongformyfeettostartbleeding.Myhandthrobs,andItakedeepbreathsthroughmynose,tryingtoconcentrateonanythingbutthepainandthefear.
IfeellikeI’vebeenwalkingforages,butwhenIlookovermyshoulder,IcanstillseethespotwhereIcrashedin,thebranchesbrokenandbent.Icanevenmakeoutaglimpseofwhitesandandbluesky.
Gettotheboat,gettotheboat,mymindkeepstellingme.Ihavetogetthefuckoffthisisland.SomethingisdeadlywrongwithMeroe.
Still,Amma’swordslastnight—theboatisontheothersideoftheisland,butNicoisn’tonit—snapatthecornersofmymind.WherethefuckdidNicogo?
Istopshort.Thejungleseemsoddlyquiet:thebirdsarenolongercalling,thewindisn’tsawingthroughthetrees,andIbecomeawareofanothersound,alowbuzzing.
AndassoonasImakeoutthenoise,Ibecomeawareofsomethingelse—ascentjustunderneaththesaltwaterandgreenearthscents.Somethingdarker,sweeter,sicker.
Decay.Rot.
Ammaislyingonthebeach,herskinalreadygreenish,herfeaturesdistorted…
Butno,she’stoofaraway.It’snothercorpsethatI’msmelling.It’ssomethingelse,somethingcloser.
AndthenIseeit.
Underaclumpofferns,thebottomofoneshoe.
ATevasandal.
Evenintheoppressiveheat,mybodygoescoldasImakemywaytowardNico.
He’slyingfacedown,andI’mgratefulforthat.
I’mtoonumbtocryasIstareathisbody,andthethickblackcloudofflieshoveringabovehishead.Hishairhasturneddarkandtacky,mattedwithblood,andIcan’tlookanyclosertoseewhathappenedtohim.I’mstillsocold,shiveringsoviolentlyithurts,andmymindisracingsofast,tryingtomakesenseofwhatI’mseeing.
Hefell.Hehithisheadanddiedhere.LikeRobbie.Hefell,anditwasanaccident.Ahorribleaccident.
Except.
AmacheteliesjustafewfeetfromNico’sbody,nodoubttossedthereonceithaddoneitsjob.
Irecognizethebluetapearoundthehandle—IrememberseeingitinJake’shandsashehackedapaththroughthejungle—thatdaythatfeelslikeitwasyearsago,alifetimeago.
It’sJake’smachete,anditkilledNico.
He’dhaditonthebeachthenightoftheparty,too.I’dseenhimuseittocutdownbranchesforthefire.
Whathappened?Hadtheyargued?HadNicoconfrontedJakeaboutme?Orhaditbeensomethingelse?
Allitwouldtakewasonehardblow,andthenitwouldbeover.Niconeverwouldhaveseenitcoming.
LikesomuchaboutNico’slife,evenhisdeathwouldhavecaughthimbysurprise.
Ipickupthemachete.
Therearefliesontheblade,too,Nico’sbloodstillstainingit,andIsteelmyself,wipingitonanearbytreetocleanitasbestIcan.ItmayhavekilledNico,butit’sgoingtosaveme.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Ihavetomovefaster.
You’reasurvivor,Lux,Brittanyhadsaidafterthestormontheboat,andIhopetogodshe’sright.
IknowI’mtougherthanIletmyselfbelieve.IheldthatknifeonRobbie,andifithadcomedowntomeorhim,IknowIwould’vekilledhim.
ButIdidn’twanttothen,andIdon’twanttonow.IwanttogettotheSusannahandgetoutofhere.
IwanttoforgetthatMeroeIslandeverexisted.
AsIwalk,sweatdrenchesme,stingingmyeyes,makingthelittlecutsandscratchesonmyarms,myshins,myhands,burn.ButIkeepmoving,andasIwalk,Ithinkofthosesailorsagain,lefttodieandrotinwhatshould’vebeenanEden
Ithinkoftheskullwefoundandwonderwhereitcamefrom.Whoitbelongedto.
ThemoreIwalk,thehotterIget,myheadswimming.Ihaven’thadanywatertodrinkinages,andnowmybodyislosingfluidbythegallon,itfeelslike.Mystomachcramps,mybrainfeelsfoggy,andIthinkIhearfootstepsbehindme.
Iwhirlaround,themachetelifted,butthere’snothing—justleaves,moretrees,morejungle.
Robbie’swordsaboutsomeonelivingoutherearepoundingthroughmybrain.
Buthehadjustbeenfuckingwithme.There’snooneelsehere,andthat’salmostscarier.NostrangerkilledNico,there’snoboogeymanhidinginthejungle:ithadtobeeitherJake,Brittany,orEliza.
ItwasoneofthepeopleItrusted—oneofthepeopleIcalledafriend.
Itwouldbeeasiertobelievealmostanythingelse,butIdon’thavethatluxuryanymore.Ican’tclosemyeyestowhat’shappeningaroundme,andIpushonandon,thinking,Justletmegettotheotherside,letmefindtheSusannah…
Andthen,outofnowhere,thejunglethins.
Thesunisreflectingoffthewater,and,IthinkIseetheSusannah’stallmast.
Ibreakthroughthefoliagetostumbleontothebeach,andyes,theresheis.Nico’sboat.
Myboat.
Andthere,standinginbetweenmeandsalvation,areElizaandBrittany.
Theydon’tlooksurprisedtoseeme,evenasIliftthemachete,themusclesinmyarmscreaming.
“Lux,stop!”Brittanyyells,andthenIseesunlightglintingonthegunElizapointsatme.
“Lux,Brittanyisright,”shesayscalmly.“There’snoneedforallofthis.”
“Noneed?”Ichokeout,almostlaughing.“OneofyoufuckerskilledNico.”Myvoicerisestoascream.“Iknowitwasoneofyou!”
“AndyoukilledAmma,butyoudon’tseeusmakingabigdealaboutit,”Elizaanswers,eyebrowsraised.
Ilowerthemachete,shakingmyhead.“Ididn’t.Itwas…shewasholdingmedown,shewastryingtodrownme…itwasself-defense.Anaccident.”
Thesundancesoffthewater,anditfeelssocloseandsofarawayallatonce.
Freedom.Escape.
“Itdoesn’tmatteranyway,”Elizasays,herarmssteady.“You’retheonewewanttotalkto.Toexplain.”
“Thendon’tpointagunatme.”
“Fairenough.”
Shelowersit,andforasplitsecond,Ithinkaboutchargingthem.Buttherearetwoofthem,oneofme.Besides,Iwanttohearwhatshehastosay.Ineedtomakesenseofthissomehow.
Still,Ikeepmyfingerscurledaroundthehandleofthemachete.
“Noneofitwassupposedtogodownlikethis,”Elizasays.“Wewerejustlookingtohaveagoodtime.”Sheflashesthatwinningsmile.“Haveanadventure.”
“AmmaandImetherwhenwestartedtraveling,”Brittanyadds.“Chloe.Well,Eliza.ButwhenImether,hernamewasChloe.”
“BrittanyandIreallyhititoff,”Elizagoeson,“andwehadasimilar…let’ssay,philosophyaboutlife.”
“Philosophy?”Iecho,thewordsoundingthickinmymouth.
“Theworldtakesalotfromus,doesn’tit?Womenlikeus.Womenwhodon’tgetthingshandedtothem.Womenwithoutalotofoptions.Sosometimes,youhavetotakeback.Youhavetocreateyourownoptions.”
Hergazesharpensonme.“Ithinkyougetthat,don’tyou,Lux?”
Idon’tanswer,thesoundofmyownheartbeatandthesurfloudinmyears.
“So,onenightinRome,IliftedawalletofftheseAmericanassholes.Theydidn’tnotice,thecashletushavealittleextrafun,noharm,nofoul.Itfelt…satisfying,Iguess.Andthenitbecamealittlemore.Morewallets,afewwatches,onceapassportjusttofuckwithsomeguy.ThenwewenttoAustralia.”
Heraccentslipsagain,soundinglikeJake.“That’swhereImetJakeagain,and…”Sheraisesthegunagain,butshetakeshereyesoffmeforasecond,lookingatthesky.“Mymumspenttenyearsinprisonbecauseofthatasshole’sfather,”shesays.“Tenyears…becausetheguyshewasinlovewith—theguyshealsohappenedtoworkfor—askedhertocarryafuckingbagofdrugs,andshedidit,becauseshetrustedhim.DoyouknowwhereJake’sfatherspentthosetenyears?”
Ishakemyhead,notthatsheexpectsananswer.
“BackinhismansioninSydney,”shesays.
“SterlingNorthcuttdidn’tevengettenyears,”Brittanysays,herchintrembling.“Theguywhokilledmyfamily.Amma’sboyfriend.Nopriorrecord,goodfamily,Florida’sfucked-upsenseofjustice.Hegotfive,andhe’llbeoutinthree.That’sfuckingnextyear,Lux.Andwhereishegoingtogo?BacktohismansioninConnecticut.BacktoAmma.Orhewouldhave,ifshewasn’t…”
Shetrailsoff,andIseeherthroatmove,butIcan’ttellifshe’supsetthatAmma’sdead,orjustangry.Iremembernow:thefightontheboatlastnight,BrittanyyellingatAmmaaboutherboyfriend.Herboyfriend,whowasn’tdeadafterall.
“Sheliedtome,”Brittanygoeson.“Shegotclosetomeforwhateversickreasonsshehad.”
“JesusChrist,”Imutter,tryingtomakesenseofitall,suddenlyrealizingthatIneverreallyunderstoodanyofthesepeople,neverknewthedarkcurrentsfloatingbeneaththeirplayful,shiningsurfaces.
Elizalooksatmethen.“AnddoyouknowwhereNicowould’vegonewhenhegottiredofplayingsailorboy?Backtothebosomofhisfamilyinhis—youguessedit—mansion.”Sheshakesherhead.“Andhowthefuckisanyofthatfair?”
Brittanyjumpsin.“So,Chloecameupwithaplan.Shesaidshewasgoingtosailtothisdesertedislandwithsomerichassholesheknewfrombackhome.AndIshouldmeetherherewithAmma.”
ShegivesmethatsweetsmileI’dfoundsowarmandwelcomingthenightwemetinMaui.
“Sowhat,youbroughtherheretokillher?”
“Don’tsayitlikethat,”Brittanyinsists.“Likeitwasmurderwewereplanning.Likewejustwantedtokillpeopleforfun.Ammadidsomethingcruel.Somethingtwisted.Jake’sfamilyruinedEliza’slife.Whenwekilledthem,itwasn’tgoingtobemurder.”
“Accidentshappensoeasilyouthere,”Elizaadds.“Amilliondifferentwaystodieinoneday.Drinktoomuchandyoumightdrown.Youeatthewrongthing,yougetpoisoned;youtakethewrongpathinthejungle—well,whoknowswhatmessyoumightfindyourselfin.Whatashame,whataterribletragedy,losingthetwoofthemouthere,buthey,shithappens.”
“Andthenyou’dhavetheboat,”Isay,thinkingitover.“Jake’sboat.Jake’smoney.Thetwoofyou.”
Shenods,andIcanseeit,thewayitallmakesakindofterrible,horrificsense.Except…
“WhybringmeandNico?”
“BrittanyneededawaytogetoutherewithAmma,”Elizasays,shrugging.“Simpleasthat.Anditwouldn’thurttohaveawitnessbackingupourversionofevents.Brittanywantedtohiresomecrustyseadogtype,but—”
“ButAmmawantedNico,”Brittanysays.“Andhewouldn’tgowithoutyou.”
I’mnotpreparedforhowmuchthathurts.
IknowNicowasnottheguyforme.Iknowhewasfickleandselfishandthathewasalwaysgoingtobreakmyheart.ButIhadlovedhim,andhehadlovedme,enoughtowantmewithhimonthisadventure.
“AndthenwhenImetyou,”Brittanygoeson,“Iknew.Knewthatitwasfate,andthatyouwerecomingwithusforareason.ThatallofuswerecomingtoMeroeforjustice.”
Hergazeneverwaversfromme.“Wedeservedthat.Andsodidyou.”
Theworldfeelslikeit’stilting,andIblink,thesunbright,thesandhotunderneathmyfeetandthenmykneesasIsinkdown.
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Don’tyougetit?”shesayssoftly.“You’relikeus.You’velostsomuch,andyoukeptgoing,kepttryingtomakesomethingnew,somethingbeautiful.Nicowasnevergoingtogiveittoyou.Eliza’sright,hewould’vegottentiredofthissceneeventually.Imean,lookhowfasthehookedupwithAmma.Becausetheywerefromthesameworld.Hewasalwaysgoingtopicksomeonelikeheroversomeonelikeyou.Isawitthatfirstnight.”
Shestepsforward,betweenmeandElizanow.“It’swhyIwantedyoutocomewithus.ElizaandIlostourfamilies.Youlostyours.Butwecanmakeanewfamily.Together.ElizafreeofJake,mefreeofAmma,youfreeofNico.”
Hereyesgobrieflytothemachete,stilllooselyclutchedinmyhand,andwhenIlookupather,IseethatsomethinginBrittanyhasfracturedandbroken,maybelongbeforeMeroe,butwhateveritisthathasherinitsgrip,it’snotsane.Notevenremotely.
“You,”Isay.“ItwasyouIsawwithNico.Itwasyou—”
“Itwassoeasytogethimtogowithme,”shesays,andsomehow,herhazeleyesseemsad.“Hedidn’tevenresistwhenIkissedhim.NotforAmma,certainlynotforyou.Andyoudeservebetter.Iknewyouwerenevergoingtobefree,notreally,untilhewasgone.Forgood.”
Brittany.Sweet,funnyBrittanywithherbigsmilesandeasyhugs,heftingamachete,smashingthebackofNico’sskull.
“We’dlacedthehash,”shegoeson,“sohewasprettyoutofit.Hedidn’tsuffer,Ipromise.”
Wasthattrue?I’dneverknow.JustlikeI’dneverknowifshe’dkilledNicoforme,orbecauseitwasanotherthingtotakefromAmma—justasAmmahad,inBrittany’smind,takenfromher.
“Andtheboat?”Iask,tryingtofilltheremaininggaps.“Howdidyou—”
“Jake,”Elizasupplies.
Jake.Whereishenow?Isheoutthere,ontheAzureSky?
“Simplestory,really.ItoldhimNicowasaskingaboutthedrugs,howmuchwehad,whatweweredoingwithit.Thathegotfreakedout,aggressivewithBrittany,andshetookcareofthings.JakeagreedwithusthatitwaseasierifyouthoughtNicohadjustfuckedoffratherthantotellyouthetruth,sohemovedtheSusannahforus.”
It’salmosttoomuchtobelieve,howmuchthesepeopleliedtome,thesecretsthey’dbeenhidingthisentiretime.Ihadmisseditall.Ileanover,dry-heavinginthesand,mystomachcramping.
Steppingforward,stillholdingthegun,Elizalooksatmeintently.“Iknowitfeelshardnow,”shesays,“butBrittanyisright.Youhadtobefreeofhimbeforehepulledyoudown.”
Ishakemyhead,thoughtsspinning.“Idon’twantanypartofthis.”
“Butyoudo,”sheinsists.“Iseeyou,Lux.Iseeawomanwhocleanedupotherpeople’sshit,literally,sothatherrichboyfriendcouldcosplayasasailor.Awomanwhosefatherabandonedhernotonce,buttwice.Iseeawomanwhodeservessomekindofhappiness,somekindoffreedominthisworld.TheworldtookBrittany’sfamily.Ittookyours.Ittookmine.So,I’llsayitagain:wedeservetotakeitback.”
There’sacrashingsoundandsuddenlyJakeemergesfromthetrees,andeverythingthatcomesnexthappenssofast.
Elizaswingsherarminhisdirection,Brittanyismovingtowardhim,andthere’sagunshot,soloudthatIscream,myhandsgoinguptomyearsasIstareatJake,waitingtoseehimcrumpleonthesand.
Butinstead,it’sBrittanywhofalls.
TWENTY-NINE
Brittany’sbloodspillsintothesand,turningitfromwhitetodarkred,butoverhead,theskyisstilljustasblue,thewaterjustasclear.
Itstilllookslikeparadise,butIknownowthatit’shell.
Robbie,Amma,Nico,nowBrittany…alldead,theirbloodseepingintoMeroe’shungrysand.Aftertheechoinggunshot,there’snothingbutsilence.
“Ohfuck,”Elizasaystoherself,hereyeswide,herhandsatthesideofherhead.“Ohfuck,ohfuck—”She’swhispering,movingtowardBrittany’sbody.
“Eliza,whatthefuck—”Jakestarts,andthen,beforeIhavetimetoregisterit,sheturnstowardhim.
Thecrackoftheshotisloud,butitdoesn’tmakemejumpasmuchthistime,evenasJakescreams,clutchingathiscalfashefallstothesand.
Hisblood,too,mymuddledmindthinks.NowMeroehastastedallofusexceptEliza.
“Thisisyourfault!”sheshoutsathim.“Ifyouhadn’tstartledme,Brittanywouldn’tbedead.”
“Shewouldn’tbedeadifyouhadn’tshother,youbitch!”Jakeseethes,clutchinghisbleedingleg.“Youfuckingcunt.”
It’sacleanshot,twoneatholespiercingthemeatofhiscalf,andhisbloodbubblesoverhisfingersashedesperatelyappliespressuretoit.
“Isn’titcrazy?”Elizasaystome,lookingatJakeasherocksthereonthebeach.“Men.Theyworshipus,butthesecondwedosomethingtheydon’tlike,we’rebitchesandcunts.”
“Tobefair,ifyoushootme,I’mgoingtocallyouacunt,too,”Ireplyevenly,andthatmakeshersmilealittle,thoughherexpressionfalterswhenshelooksbackatBrittany.
“Itwillbeokay,”shesays,andIgetthesenseshe’stalkingtoherselfagain.“Wecanstilldothis.Youandme,”shesays,searchingmyface.“That’llbeokay,won’tit?”
Shekneelsinthesand,leaningforwardtogentlycloseBrittany’seyes,ashudderrunningthroughher.“Wecanworkwiththis.WeworkedwithRobbie,wecanfigurethisout,too.”
“Robbie?”Iask,myvoicedull.I’mstilllookingatBrittany,deadthereinthesand.
Shegesturesatmewiththegun,makingmeflinch.“Oh,yeah.Youcalledthatoneright.Robbiehadn’tleft,hadjustparkedaroundtheothersideoftheislandandwashidinginthejungle.Jakefoundhim,though,didn’tyou?”
Hedoesn’tanswer,stillpantingandglaringather.
“See,Robbiedidn’tjustsmashourradios,Lux.HeactuallystolesomeofJake’sdrugs,too.Betyourassthatwasthefirstthinghecheckedoncewefoundtheradiosweredestroyed.Andifthere’sonethingJakehates,it’speoplestealingfromhim.SohefoundRobbieandtookcareofit.”
“But…thefish,”Isay.“Robbieatebadfishanddiedfromit.”
Elizalooksatmewithamockingsmile.“Andwhomadesureyouthoughtthat,Luxy?Wholedyoudirectlytohisbodysothatthetwoofyoucouldfindit,together,andyou’dstopworryingaboutRobbiestillbeingouttheresomewhere?”
Jake.
Thatafternoon,afterthebeach,afterwhatwe’ddone,ithadbeenhisideatotakethatpaththroughthejungle.
He’dledmerighttoRobbie.
Elizastepsforward.Thegunisrightinfrontofmyface,assheoffersmethehandle.
Itakeit.
Themetaliswarmfromherhand,asheavyasIrememberitbeing.“It’ssosimplenow,”shesays,smiling.
Elizawho,forwhateverreason,Istillwanttoplease.
That’shersuperpower.Shepresentsyouwithaversionofyourselfthatyoucouldbe,ifyouwerejustbraveenoughtotry.
“Youcanshootme,”shesays.“Killme.TakeJakeandsailbackforMaui,telltheauthoritiesthewholesordidstory.Or…”
Shestepsback,spreadingherhandswide.“YoushootJake.He’stheonlypersonleft,afterall.Weputallofthemontheboat,wesinkit.Drugs,too.AllofitatthebottomofthefuckingseaexceptforthemoneyandtheSusannah.Wesailon.Nooneknowswewerehere,andiftheyeverfindout,wehaveaneasyenoughstorytotell.”Shewidenshereyes,herlowerliptrembling.“Thisguyshowedup,andhewasreallycreepy,andwedecidedtoleave.Why,didsomethinghappen?”
Herguilelessexpressionfades,replacedwithsomethingmuchmorecunning.“Whatluckygirlswewere,gettingoutbeforeitallwentsowrong.Toobadabouttheothers.”Shecluckshertongue,shakingherhead.“Goodthingthesetwoyoungladiesweresosensible.”
Istandup,andshereachesout,herfingersbrushingmyhairbackfrommyface.“Itwassupposedtobethethreeofus—you,me,andBrittany—butitcanbejustus,Lux.Wecanhaveitall.”
She’sright.
Monthsfromnow,wecouldbesofaraway,withallthatmoneystashedontheAzureSkyinourpockets,andtheSusannah—alreadymineonpaper—underneathourfeet.
Takingusanywhere.
Freedom.TheonethingIalwayswanted.ThethingElizawaswillingtokillfor.
AllIhadtodowaskill,too,anditwasmine.
Iliftthegun,andhersmileissobright.“There’sagi—”
Sheneverfinishes.Isqueezethetriggerandthebullethitsherjustunderherjaw,herheadsnappingbackasshefallstothesand.
Herheelsdrumonce,twice,bodytwitching,andthenit’sover.
Nexttome,Jakelowershisheadtothesand,takingdeep,shakingbreaths.“Fuck,”hebreathes.“Fuck.Lux.”
Hiseyesareasblueastheskyabove,eventhoughhisskinhasgonechalkywhite.“Thankyou,”hesays,andgesturesatEliza’sbody.“Gethershirt,Ineedatourniquet.Thewoundisn’tbad,butI’velostalotofblood.”
JakeandIcanleavetogether.DitchtheAzureSky,takeonlythemoney,leavethedrugsbehind,theperfectmotiveforallthisviolence.
JakeandIcandothat.
Jake,whokilledRobbie.
Jake,wholookedatNico,bloodyanddeadinthejungle,anddecideditwasbetterformetothinkmyboyfriendhadjustabandonedmethantoknowthetruth.
Jake,whomighthavebeenEliza’sprey,butwhowas,firstandforemost,apredatorinhisownright.
Or,there’sathirdoption.
IcantakewhatElizacreatedwithbothhands.
Money,freedom,choices—theentireworld,openingupforme.
Jakeisstaringupatme,andthesunishotonmyface,andmyhandsareice-cold,butthey’realsosteady,steadylikeJaketaughtme,andIseenowthatRobbiewasrightaboutonething:thisislanddoesn’ttwistpeopleup.Itjustturnsthemintothepurestversionofthemselves,honesthemlikeaknife’sblade.
IliftthegunevenasJakeraisesbothhands,mynameonhislips.
Iaim.Thetriggerdigsintomyfinger.
WhatamIwhenyoustripeverythingelseaway?
I’mamotherfuckingsurvivor.
INTERVIEWWITHJESSICACARTWRIGHT,PASSENGERABOARDVESSELEASYRIDERRE:MEROEISLAND.CONDUCTEDBYDETECTIVEDANIELKEKOA,MAUICOUNTYPOLICEDEPARTMENT.
JESSICACARTWRIGHT:Imean,Ireallydon’tknowwhatIcantellyouthattheothershaven’t.Iwasn’teventheonewhofoundthem.ThatwasTucker.HaveyouguystalkedtoTucker?(ED.NOTE—REFERRINGTOTUCKERBRETT,OWNEROFEASYRIDERATTIMEOFINCIDENT.)
DET.D.KEKOA:Wehave,butweunderstandyouwerethefirstoneontheisland,soIjustwanttogetasensefromyouifyoufeltlikeanythingwasamiss,anythingthatfeltofftoyou.
JC:Imean,thewholefucking—sorry.Thewholefreakingplacefeltoff.Like,itwasreally,reallyprettywhenweweresailingin,butassoonasTuckdroppedtheanchor,Iwantedtoleave.
DK:Canyouelaborateonthat?
JC:Itwasjustcreepy,Iguess.Itfelthaunted.Ithinkpartofitwasthatitwasreallyquiet.Therewasstuffoutonthebeach.Thistarphadbeenspreadoversometreebranches,andtherewerebooks,acooler.Itseriouslylookedlikesomeonehadjustwalkedawayforasecondandwouldbeback.Weknewthereweresixpeopleontheislandbasedonthatcall,fromtheAustralianguywhoneededtheradios.AndIguessIthoughtthey’dallbeouttherewaitingonusorsomething?Soitwasjustreallyweirdthattherewasnoonethere.
DK:Therewerefourofyouontheboat,correct?
JC:Yeah,me,Tucker,andmybestfriend,Ashley,andAshley’sboyfriend,Bobby.Ashley’stheonewhofound…youknow.Thefirstone.
DK:Canyoubemorespecific?
JC:Thefirstdeadperson.Thefirstbody.Idon’tknowwhatyouwantmetosay?
DK:Thefirstmalevictim,NicholasJohannsen.
JC:Right.Hewas…actually,canwetakeabreak?
[INTERVIEWPAUSEDFORTWENTY-THREEMINUTES]
JC:Okay.Thankyou.Soyeah,Ashleyhadgonedeeperintothejungle,Iguess,shelovesthatkindofsh—stuff.Weheardherscream,butIhonestlythoughtitwasjustgoingtobeasnakeorsomething.Ididn’tthinkitwasgoingtobeabody.
DK:AndwhatwasthenextcourseofactionforyourgroupafteryoufoundMr.Johannsen?
JC:Bobbyrantogetbacktotheboattousetheradio.Tuckerwantedtokeepsearchingaround,whichIthoughtwasadumbidea,butIwasjustkindof…numb?Youknowhowtheysayonthoseshows,likeDateline,stufflikethat,thatpeoplefindabodyandthinkit’s,like,amannequin?Itwasn’tlikethat.Therewasnodoubtitwasabody.Irememberthinkingthat.Like,lookingathimandbeingall,“That’sabody.Thatwasaperson,andnowhe’sdead.”AndwhenIsawthepictureslater,itwassoweird.Like,hewasthisreallyhotguy!I’msorry.That’sshallow,Iguess,butthat’swhatIthought.ThathelookedlikesomeoneI’dwanttoknow,andnowhewasdead.Isthatweird?
DK:Notatall.Butifwecanstayontrackhere—
JC:Right.Sorry.Anyway,wekeptgoinguntilwegottothisbeach,andthat’swhenTuckerfoundtheothers.IneverreallysawthembecauseTuckerpushedusbackintothejungle,butIrememberthesmell,and…isittrue?Whatitsaidontheinternetaboutthecrabsortheratsorwhateveritwas?
DK:Theconditionofthebodieswasconsistentwithpredationtypicalonthatisland.
JC:Jesus.Okay,that’sonewaytoputit.[subjectpauses]It’sjustsofuckedup.It’ssoprettythere.Seriously,itwasthemostbeautifulplaceI’deverseen,likehonest-to-godheavenorEdenorsomething,andthenyoufindallthat.[subjectbeginstocry]Whywouldanyoneeverwanttogothereafterthis?Whyhaven’ty’alllikenapalmedtheshitoutofthatisland?Becausethat’swhatIwoulddo.Blastitoffthefuckingmap.
DK:Ms.Cartwright,ifyoucan—
JC:No,I’mserious.Wewenttheretohaveagoodtime,andfoundsixfuckingdeadbodies.Andyouknowthatothergirl,theonetheydidn’tfind,isstillthere,too.Orintheocean,ormaybethosefuckingcrabsgother.Ikeepthinkingaboutthat.Ikeepseeingherinmyheadand—
DK:Let’stakeanotherbreak,okay?
[INTERVIEWPAUSED]
INTHEAFTER
EPILOGUE
Carolinewishesshe’dnevercometoThailand.
It’sbeautiful,sure,andloudandcolorful,thesightsandsoundsaresodifferentfromherhomebackinWashingtonState.Butshe’ssittingaloneinthisdingybar,oneanklethreadedthroughthestrapofherbackpacktoensurethatontopofeverythingelse,shedoesn’tgetrobbed,too,assheliterallycriesintoherbeer.
She’ssofuckingpathetic.
ShenevershouldhavegotteninvolvedwithTannerinthefirstplace.
He’sherroommate’sex,whichisbothatotalclichéandaviolationofGirlCode.It’swhatmakesitevenmoredisappointingthatnow,whensheshouldbehavingthetimeofherlifeonthetripofherlife,sheisdoingthis—scrollingthroughpicturesonInstagramofsomegirlshedoesn’tevenknow,somegirlnamedAinsley.
Shekeepsrepeatingthenameinherhead,amantra.Ainsley,Ainsley,AinsleyandTanner,TannerandAinsley.
Carolinecanpracticallyseetheweddinginvitationsnow.
Ofcourse,itmightnotgetthatfar.MaybeAinsley,sheoftheshinyhairandcolorfulsundressesandgoldenskin,isjustsomedistraction.
That’swhatTannerhadsaidlastnightatleast,whenheandCarolinewerehavingtheirwhisperedargumentinthehostel.
Iwasdrunk,itwasjustalittlefun,we’reonvacation!
He’ssaidthateverytimehe’sdonesomestupidshitonthistrip.Boughtdodgyweedfromanevendodgierguy?It’savacation!Forgottodouble-checkhisbookingatoneofthehotels,sotheyendedupsleepinginapark?Imean,it’sanadventure,right?It’ssupposedtobealittleunpredictable.
Gotcaughtwithhishandsupsomeothergirl’sdressinabarbathroomlastnight?
Harmlessfun!Vacation!Nobigdeal.
Carolinehatedwhenhesaidshitlikethatbecauseitmadeherfeelstupidandsmallanduptight,andshewonderedwhyeverytimeaguyfuckedup,hedidexactlythis—madeagirlthinksomehowitwasherfault,thatifonlyshewerecoolerandmorefun,hemightbesatisfied.
Sniffling,shescrollson.
Ainsley,withherperfectlyflatstomachinabikiniinItaly.Ainsley,makingsomekindofsymbolwithherhandwithhersororitysisters.Ainsley,brazenlyholdingaglassofredwinewhilesittingonaverywhitecouch.
Carolineknowssheneedstostop,butshecan’t.AndsheknowsthatTannerandAinsleyare,evennow,probablyfuckinginAinsley’snicehotelroom,becauseCarolinehadseenthetextwhileTannerwasintheshowerthismorning.
3stillgood?Ainsleyhadwritten.
Uknoit
She’dwaitedalldayforthemomentwhenTannerwouldsuddenlyhavesomeerrandtorun,somefriendfromUMasstomeetupwith,someexcuseforwherehe’ddisappearto,somereasonwhyCarolinecouldabsolutelynotjoinhim.
Itendedupbeing“friendsofhisparents.”
Whodidn’tknowhehadagirlfriend.Toocomplicatedtoexplain,hedidn’twanttomakeherfeelawkward,he’dbebackinacoupleofhours,andthentheycouldgodrinkbeeronthebeach.Wouldn’tthatbenice?
Carolinedoesn’tknowwhatshehatesmore—howlamethatstoryis,orhowshehadn’tcalledhimonit,howshehadjustsmiledthroughnumblipsandwatchedhimgo.
Thenshe’dpackedherstuff.
Except,sheknowsbuyinganearliertickethomeisgoingtoeatuptherestofhermoney,andit’salljustsofuckingunfairandstupid.
BecausewhenTannergetsback,whenshetextshimandtellshimshe’sleavinghim,heisn’tactuallygoingtocarethatmuch.Ifanything,itmightcomeasakindofrelief.Afterall,hehasplentyofmoney.Histripwillgoon,andtherewillbeotherAinsleys,andallCarolinewillhavefromthelasttwoweeksisasunburnandasadstory.
Shetakesanothersipofherbeer,whichhasgonewarmandflat.
Outside,it’sstartedtorain,thesoundechoingonthetinroof.Bikeswhizby,sendingupsheetsofwaterandfillingtheopen-airbarwiththesmellofdieselandburntrubber.
Shedoesn’twanttoleave.
Thereissomuchmoreshewantedtodohere,moretoseeandexplore.Shesupposesshecouldalwaysgobacktothehostel,pretendshe’dneverseenthetext,suckitup,andatleastgetsomethingoutof—
“Areyouokay?”
Startledoutofhermisery,Carolinelooksuptoseeawomansittingonthestoolnexttoher.She’spretty,withbrightredhairframinganangularfaceandbiggreeneyes.Hershouldersarebareandalittleburned,andshehasthatkindofwindblown,sun-streakedlookthatmakesCarolinethinkshespendsalotoftimeoutside.
“Yeah,”sheanswers,sippingherbeereventhoughshedoesn’twantto.“Just…aguything.”
“Ah,”thewomanreplies,nodding.“Boytrouble.Thecauseofatleasteighty-fivepercentofallcryingjagsinbars.”
ThatmakesCarolinelaugh.Thewomanseemsnice.Friendly.There’saneaseandconfidenceaboutherthatCarolinewishesshecouldproject,too—likeshecouldfitinanywhere,talktoanyone.
“And,”thewomangoeson,leaningoneelbowonthebar,“ifyou’retravelingwithaguy,thatupsthepercentagetoasolidninety-two.”
It’sherjoke,andtheinvitingsmilethataccompaniesit,thatmakesCarolinelaunchintoherwholestory.It’sonlywhenshe’ssaiditoutloudthatsherealizeshowsillyitallsounds.Howminorinthegrandschemeofthings.
Butthewomanisn’tlookingatherwithpityorcondescension.Shegetsit.Carolinecantell.It’ssomethinginhereyes,inthewayshenodsatcertaindetails,likeAinsley’sstupidfuckingInstagramcaptions—FittobeThai-ed!!!—ortheevenstupiderlieTannertold.
“Anyway,”Carolineconcludes,“nowIcaneitherwastetherestofmymoneygoinghome,orIcan…Idon’tknow.Gobacktohim,andgetoverit.Imean,Icouldtrytogetbyonmyownforthenextthreeweeks,thenmeetupwithhimwhenit’stimetoflyback.”ThethoughtofhavingtodealwithTannerinanycapacityispreemptivelyexhausting,butCarolineknowsthat’sprobablyherbestbet.Makeherlastfewhundredbuckslastaslongasshecan,andhopeTannerdoesn’tcancelherticket.
Butfuck,shehatesthat.Puttingthatpowerinhishandswhenwhatshereallywantstodoisditchhimentirely.
Thewomannodsagainbeforeglancingoverhershoulder.“Or,”shesayswithashrug,“maybethereareotheroptions?”
“Likewhat?”
Thewomanshrugsagain,thensmiles.“Therearealwaysoptions.Particularlywhenyouletgooftheversionofyourselfthatgothereinthefirstplace.Youcanclingtothebefore,oryoucantrytoliveintheafter,youknow?”
Intheafter.
Carolineisn’tsurewhatitmeans,butshelikesthesoundofthat.
Shelikesthisgirl,too.
Bythethirdbeer,she’snotastrangeranymore,though.Shehasaname,anunusualonethatCarolinehasneverheardbefore.
Shealsohasaboat.
Andthatnight,whenCarolinestealsbacktoTanner’sroomatthehostel,sheknowsthatshedoeshaveoptions.Hernewfriendhasjustshownthemtoher.She’lltakeCarolineonherboat,sailheranywhereshe’dliketogo.Carolinejustneedstodoonethingfirst.
Shefindsthemoneyclipinadrawer,underneathhisunderwear.
Shepicksitup,slidingitintoherbag,thenslipsbackoutintothenight,towardthebarandherfriend,andherfreedom,anditsurprisesherhoweasyitis.Howtherewasabefore,whenshewassadandmiserableandtrapped—andnow,justafewhourslater,there’sthisgloriousafter.
Carolinestepsintoit.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ThisisthebookI’vebeenwantingtowritesinceIwastwelveyearsoldandfirstcameacrossacopyofAndtheSeaWillTellinmylocallibrary.Icanstillseetheturquoisecover,theleeringskull.Tofinallygettowritemyown“boatmurder”bookisa(slightlymacabre)dreamcometrue,andIamsothankfultoeveryonewhohelpedmakeithappen!
HollyRoothasbeenmyagentformorethanadecade,andIhopeshewillstillbetalkingmeoffledgesandhelpingtosteermyideasintoportfordecadesmoretocome.Thisbookparticularlybenefittedfromherexcellentnotesearlyintheplanningstages,andIamsogratefulforherexpertise.
SarahCantinunderstoodthisbookfromthefirstpitch,andthenpushedittobesomuchbetterandmoreambitiousthanI’deverhopedfor.ThismightbethemostcomplicatednovelI’veeverwritten,andwereitnotforSarah’seditorialgenius,Ithinkit—andI—wouldhavefallentopiecesmanytimesover.Thankyousomuch,Sarah,forallyourworkandforneverstoppingmefromusingroughly354nauticalpunswheneverIemailedyouaboutthemanuscript
ThankyoualsotoSallieLotz,whosenotesarealwayssosmartandwhoseeyeissosharp.
TheentireteamatSt.Martin’sPressisadreamtoworkwith,andIambeyondfortunatetohavethematthehelm.Mybooksandmycareerareinsuchgoodhandswithallofyou.
Thankyou,asalways,tomyfriends,especially,inthiscase,AshParsons,KerriMu?oz,andVickyAlvearSchecter,allofwhomheardaboutthisbookinitsearlieststagesandcheeredmeon.Hopefullybythetimethisoneisout,we’reallbackattheconventagain,walkingmazesandscandalizingnuns.
Andofcourse,formyfamily.Ilovey’all.
ALSOBYRACHELHAWKINS
TheWifeUpstairs
HerRoyalHighness
PrinceCharming
Ruby&Olivia
Journey’sEnd
LadyRenegades
MissMayhem
RebelBelle
SchoolSpirits
SpellBound
Demonglass
HexHall
ABOUTTHEAUTHOR
RACHELHAWKINSistheNewYorkTimesbestsellingauthorofTheWifeUpstairs,aswellasmultiplebooksforyoungreaders,andherworkhasbeentranslatedinmorethanadozencountries.ShestudiedgenderandsexualityatAuburnUniversityandcurrentlylivesinAlabama.Youcansignupforemailupdateshere
Thankyouforbuyingthis
St.Martin’sPressebook.
Toreceivespecialoffers,bonuscontent,
andinfoonnewreleasesandothergreatreads,
signupforournewsletters.
Orvisitusonlineat
us.macmillan.com/newslettersignup
Foremailupdatesontheauthor,clickhere
Thisisaworkoffiction.Allofthecharacters,organizations,andeventsportrayedinthisnovelareeitherproductsoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously.
FirstpublishedintheUnitedStatesbySt.Martin’sPress,animprintofSt.Martin’sPublishingGroup
RECKLESSGIRLS.Copyright?2021byRachelHawkins.Allrightsreserved.Forinformation,addressSt.Martin’sPublishingGroup,120Broadway,NewYork,NY10271.
www.stmartins.com
CoverdesignbyDanielleChristopher
Coverart:flowers?Gringoann/Shutterstock.com;palmleaf?QuangHo/Shutterstock.com;fabrictear?AndreiKorzhyts/Shutterstock.com
TheLibraryofCongresshascatalogedtheprinteditionasfollows:
Names:Hawkins,Rachel,1979–author.
Title:Recklessgirls/RachelHawkins.
Description:FirstEdition.|NewYork:St.Martin’sPress,2022.
Identifiers:LCCN2021035230|ISBN9781250274250(hardcover)|ISBN9781250282323(international,soldoutsidetheU.S.,subjecttorightsavailability)|ISBN9781250274267(ebook)
Subjects:GSAFD:Suspensefiction.|Mysteryfiction.
Classification:LCCPS3608.A893463R432022|DDC813/.6—dc23
LCrecordavailableathttps://lccn.loc.gov/2021035230
eISBN9781250274267
Ourebooksmaybepurchasedinbulkforpromotional,educational,orbusinessuse.PleasecontacttheMacmillanCorporateandPremiumSalesDepartmentat1-800-221-7945,extension5442,orbyemailatMacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.
FirstU.S.Edition:2022
FirstInternationalEdition:2022
CONTENTS
TitlePage
CopyrightNotice
Dedication
Prologue
Epigraph
Now
One
Two
Three
Four
Before
Now
Five
Six
Before
Now
Seven
Before
Now
Eight
Nine
Before
Now
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Before
Now
Fourteen
Before
Now
Fifteen
Sixteen
Before
Now
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Before
Now
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Before
Now
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Before
Now
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
IntheAfter
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
AlsobyRachelHawkins
AbouttheAuthor
Copyright
© Copyright Notice
The copyright of the article belongs to the author. Please do not reprint without permission.
THE END
No comments yet