The Party 500 a.m.
The Party
“Billy? Billy, where are you? Your dad’s going to kill me.
” Olivia’s voice was loud and clear, a siren in the night as she puttered closer and closer on the tender.
Billy gasped for air as he smacked at the water around him, trying to breathe.
He had no concept of time. Couldn’t possibly tell how long he had been treading, how long he had been drowning.
His limbs were numb, like they were disconnected from his body, and his teeth were chattering so loud, he thought the entire island could hear him.
But still, he found a way to raise his hand, to wave his fingers, to be his own white flag, desperate for help.
“Hello!” Olivia climbed aboard the Sea Witch, was stomping around all mad. Billy could see her, though she looked like a doll, so far away at the mercy of the sea. It was light out now, the sun coming up over the horizon. Was it possible she didn’t see his arm waving?
Olivia headed downstairs to the cabins. She’d come upstairs soon, walk around a little bit, and realize he wasn’t there, that he needed help and was in the FUCKING WATER. Wouldn’t she?
A moment later, Olivia popped back up on the deck, shaking her head. “You know I inherit your trust if you die!” Olivia called jokingly. She clucked her tongue and climbed back down on the ladder, hopping into the tender.
Surely, she would see him now. Except…
Except Billy was farther away than he thought. Already drifting, a speck in the sea. Why the hell had his parents thought to moor here and not closer to other boats, where he could have grabbed onto their tow lines? Their buoys?
“I’m leaving,” Olivia said, her voice crystal clear. “Last chance.” She revved the engine, took one last look around.
“Liv!” Billy called as loudly as he could, desperate, a plea, a prayer.
Olivia cocked her head like she heard something, and turned toward him. But then she waved her hand in the air as if annoyed and headed home.