7
The first afternoon felt normal enough to make Cleo appear paranoid.
They swam.
They ate fruit beside the pool.
Cameron attempted to teach Peter how to dive.
Madison filmed everyone.
Bart challenged Jamal to a race across the pool.
Jamal refused twice.
The third time, the group began chanting.
He agreed.
They reached the opposite end nearly together.
Jamal touched first.
Bart surfaced one second later.
Everyone cheered.
Bart wiped water from his face.
“You leaned early.”
“No.”
“You pushed from the wall before I said go.”
“Madison recorded it.”
Madison lifted the camera.
“Jamal won.”
Bart smiled.
“Of course.”
Jamal watched him.
“You asked for the race.”
“And you had to win.”
“I swam.”
“You could have let it be close.”
“It was close.”
“Not close enough.”
Lauren climbed from the pool.
“Bart, stop.”
He looked at her.
“Whose side are you on?”
“It was a race.”
“Exactly.”
Jamal pulled himself out.
“I’m done competing.”
Bart laughed.
“You can say that after winning.”
Jamal walked away.
The mood recovered.
That was Bart’s talent.
He could poison a moment, then act offended when anyone noticed the taste.
At dinner, the chef served lobster, rice, vegetables, and a dessert designed to resemble the island.
Wine appeared.
Jamal pushed his glass aside.
Chase noticed.
“Valedictorian doesn’t drink?”
“My name is Jamal.”
“Same difference.”
Emily laughed.
Jamal opened a bottle of sparkling water himself.
Bart lifted his glass.
“To Jamal Freeman.”
Everyone looked at him.
Bart continued.
“The smartest student Hampton Crest has ever produced.”
Jamal set down his fork.
“Don’t.”
“The star athlete.”
“Bart.”
“The natural leader.”
Lauren stared at her plate.
“The future attorney.”
Jamal’s voice hardened.
“What is this?”
“A toast.”
“No. It isn’t.”
Bart smiled.
“You never like being praised unless the whole room means it.”
Cameron shifted.
Peter drank quickly.
Bart raised the glass higher.
“To the man who took my medal, my captaincy, my class ranking, my father’s admiration—”
“Stop,” Lauren said.
Bart looked at her.
“And possibly my girlfriend.”
The room became silent.
Jamal leaned back.
“I do not want Lauren.”
“She wants you.”
“That is something you need to discuss with her.”
“I’m discussing it with both of you.”
Lauren stood.
“You’re drunk.”
“I’m honest.”
“You’ve been waiting all day to do this.”
“I’ve been waiting four years.”
Jamal kept his voice level.
“For what?”
“To see if you can admit you like being better than me.”
“You built that sentence so no answer helps.”
“Genius recognizes traps.”
“I don’t think I’m better than you.”
“Lie.”
“I think I achieved more at school.”
Bart laughed.
“There.”
“You asked.”
“You could have softened it.”
“Why? So you could accuse me of pity?”
Bart’s expression tightened.
Jamal continued.
“You are intelligent. You are talented. You got into Princeton. You have every opportunity imaginable. None of that becomes smaller because I succeeded.”
“My father thinks it does.”
“That is between you and him.”
“Lauren thinks it does.”
“That is between you and her.”
“Everybody thinks it.”
“That is between you and yourself.”
Bart slammed down the glass.
Wine spread across the table.
The chef entered.
Bart’s posture changed instantly.
“Everything is excellent,” he said.
The chef glanced at the spilled wine.
“Of course, sir.”
He left.
Jamal noticed.
“You can turn it off when staff walks in.”
Bart wiped his hand.
“What?”
“The rage.”
“Maybe because I’m not raging.”
“You’re performing.”
Bart stared.
“Island rule. Say what you mean.”
“Fine. You resent me.”
“I hate you.”
The sentence came calmly.
Nobody moved.
Bart looked almost relieved.
Jamal held his gaze.
“Why did you invite me?”
“Because hatred wants privacy.”
Lauren stood.
“I’m leaving.”
Bart grabbed her wrist.
“Sit down.”
She pulled away.
“Do not touch me.”
The bruise would later appear on television.
Bart released her.
Lauren walked out.
Jamal stood.
“So am I.”
Bart smiled.
“You always leave after the final word.”
“This isn’t debate.”
“No. Debate had judges.”
Jamal moved toward the stairs.
Behind him, Bart called out.
“Sunrise tomorrow. Eastern cliff.”
Jamal stopped.
“Vale said it’s closed.”
“The observation point is safe.”
“I’m not going.”
“Scared?”
Jamal turned.
Bart saw the opening.
“Cleo was right. The great Jamal Freeman cannot handle one weekend without adults protecting him.”
Jamal took a breath.
Pride rose.
Then Cleo’s voice entered before he answered.
Do not let Bart bait you.
“No,” Jamal said.
Bart’s smile faded.
“No what?”
“No race. No cliff. No test. Whatever you planned, find another person.”
Jamal continued upstairs.
For once, he left Bart with no victory.
That should have protected him.
Instead, it changed the plan.