Chapter 18
CHAPTER
CHARLEY
I sat on the bed while Natalie messed with my hair. It was the latest surreal Nil moment of the day. Less Survivor, more like America’s Next Top Model, island edition, but I still felt completely out of place.
Outside Natalie’s hut, twilight approached, flickering like torchlight.
Using the final moments of daylight, Natalie was crafting an island updo, so intent on her work that she didn’t speak, although I sensed that her thoughts dwelled on something more important than my hair.
She’d barely spoken since I’d returned from the Flower Field.
I had no idea what to say to make her feel better, because the thing was, I didn’t feel so great myself.
Eighty-six days.
Three hundred fifty-two days.
Eighty-six days.
The numbers flashed like neon signs in my head. Once you know, you start watching the days, and you never stop. Thad was right. But it was his days that I was stuck on. Three hundred fifty-two seemed like a lifetime compared with eighty-six.
“Natalie.” I turned, and she hit me in the nose with her comb.
“Sorry!” It was the first smile I’d seen from her this afternoon.
“Listen, Thad told me about the days.”
“I know. He had to.” Her voice was hard.
“I’ve been wondering. How many do you have left?”
“Thirty-three.”
“Thirty-three?” I jumped up. “Why aren’t you on Search?” From what I knew, it seemed pretty darn clear she should be out hunting shimmers, not sitting here combing my hair.
“Yeah. But when Kevin left, I kind of lost it. I had to know if he made it, and I was afraid to leave, afraid I’d miss the news, or find—” She stopped, her free hand fingering the shell bracelet on her wrist. “I’m leaving in the morning. I just confirmed my team with Thad.”
Thad. Thad, with eighty-six days, busy taking care of me and apparently everyone else—like Natalie, who looked less than excited about going on Search.
“Don’t you want to go?” I frowned.
“I do. But today, it was a reality check, you know? A reminder of how tricky it is to catch a gate. Sabine’s gone, and she wasn’t here long enough to get a haircut.
And then there’s Li, who’s got less than two weeks.
” She twisted her bracelet so hard the shells dented her wrist. “I might not make it, Charley,” she whispered.
“I might not see Kevin again. There’s no guarantee. Not here.”
“Not anywhere,” I said. “But you can’t think like that.”
She stared at her bracelet.
“Natalie, I haven’t been here long enough to know how you feel, and I’m not going to pretend I do.
But Kevin made it, and you can, too. You can’t give up.
You’ve got thirty-three chances, and more than that if you think of how many doubles might be out there, too, not to mention triples or quads.
But you can’t catch one if you don’t try. ”
Now she looked up. “Quads?”
“Yup. I saw one on my first day here. My point is, don’t quit.
Not on Kevin, not on yourself. And not on me, okay?
You kind of remind me of my sister, Em—unless you quit.
” I squeezed her hand, thinking I pretty much stunk at the whole rah-rah thing.
This is why you were never a cheerleader, Charley, I thought.
That and the fact that you’re six feet tall.
She hugged me so fiercely it was like she’d channeled Em. “Thanks, Charley. I’m so glad it was you who found Kev’s clothes.” She paused. “You didn’t find anything with the clothes, did you?” The hope lighting Natalie’s eyes belied her casual tone.
“Just sandals. Why?” Thad’s words from this afternoon popped into my head. Our job is to sharpen them and not lose them. “Oh, are you talking about a knife? Is that what I missed?”
Natalie looked taken aback. “A knife? No. It’s nothing.” Then she regarded me with the same critical eye my mom gave me when I’d cut my bangs in sixth grade. “Now, we’d better get to it if we’re gonna finish that hair before tonight.”
Thirty minutes later, Natalie announced, “Done.”
Using two thin sticks, she’d swept part of my hair into what Natalie assured me was a very a fashionable ’do.
The rest trailed down my back. Then she’d smudged my eyes with charcoal and glossed my lips with something that tasted like pomegranate.
Stepping back, she looked at me like a painter studying her canvas.
“You look amazing. I’d kill for your coloring, not to mention your legs.
There’s just one thing missing.” She raised one finger and grinned.
“Got it.” Reaching over, she broke a single white blossom off a wreath by her bed and tucked it behind my ear.
“There,” she said, nodding. “No bunches of flowers in the hair, too fussy for you. But this”—she adjusted the flower—“is perfect.”
Her eyes dropped to my clothes, and she frowned.
“Well, at least they’re clean. It’s not like I can pop into Anthropologie and get you something else, right?
But I can make these fit better.” In a flash, Natalie adjusted my halter; the uncomfortable knot of fabric at my back vanished.
Then she retied my skirt, making it shrink by inches.
“Stop tugging on it, Charley.” She intercepted my hand, grinning. “It’s not as short as you think. Plus, you only live once.” Her own words caught her off guard. I saw her stiffen, then close her eyes, fighting herself.
This time I hugged her.
“Natalie, it’s okay. You’ll make it.”
For a minute she just held me tight. Then she let go and wiped her eyes.
“Okay, that’s enough mushy gushy,” she said.
“Otherwise we’ll smear our charcoal, and I worked hard on that.
” Smiling, she draped the wreath of flowers around her neck.
Then, like she’d done it dozens of times before, she grabbed a handful of tiny white blossoms from a small bowl and tucked them into her hair in three seconds flat, like pearls sparkling within the strawberry blond.
“Thanks, Charley. I’m glad you’re here, even though I’m sorry you’re here. ” She smiled, a real Natalie smile.
“Am I interrupting?” A voice at the doorway made my insides jump.
“You always are,” Natalie scolded Thad, grinning. “But don’t let that stop you.” She looked at me and winked.
Thad eased inside, and the A-frame suddenly seemed small.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey.” Thad smiled at me, and for a second, there was no air.
Same bare chest, same ripped abs, same golden hair touching his shoulders.
He wore the twine necklace he always had on, but tonight it boasted a single caramel shell that blended with his skin; I’d have sworn it held a piece of black rock before.
His eyes swept over me, lingering on my legs.
“You look”—he swallowed—“underdressed.”
“Really.” I lifted my chin, determined not to pull on my skirt. “You think so?”
“Definitely. And I know just how to fix it.” Pulling his hands from behind his back, he held a necklace of white flowers, woven together with a bright green vine. Simple, and gorgeous.
“May I?” he asked. For the first time, he looked uncertain.
I could only nod.
Thad moved closer. Inches away, he smelled like coconut and something fruity.
With a movement so gentle it was almost a caress, Thad slipped the flower necklace over my head.
“It’s a tradition that a veteran welcomes each rookie.
Charley from Georgia, consider this an official welcome to Nil City.
” His blue eyes were playful. “Last time I said that, you were unconscious.”
My skin registered the cool touch of flowers as I tried to sift through yesterday’s fog, again. Thad lifted my hair to settle the lei on my shoulders and the sensation pulled me back to the present.
“I hope you’ll stay.” Thad murmured, then he blinked heavily, like he’d said something wrong. “In the City, that is. Not go off hunting gates alone.” His eyes locked on mine.
“A solo island quest sounds like a really bad idea,” I said truthfully. “Lions and tigers and zebras, remember?” And no you.
Thad grinned. “Do you want to make it official? Carve a little graffiti, Nil style?”
I had no idea what he was talking about.
“The Naming Wall. Follow me.” Taking my hand, he led me out of the A-frame.
I loved the feeling of Thad’s hand wrapped around mine.
I half expected to wake up, remembering the strangest dream about a hunky island guide, tailor-made just for me.
Combing my hair, holding my hand—it was all as unreal as the freaky Friday trip that landed me here in the first place.
The sweetness of this moment scared me, just a little.
Or maybe a lot. I was in too deep to tell.
Thad stopped. Turning to look at me, he said, “I forgot to tell you. You look gorgeous.” His voice caught. “More beautiful than anything else on Nil.”
“How’s your vision?” I asked. I was awful with compliments, especially when they seemed impossible.
He laughed. “Perfect.” Pulling my hand, he said, “C’mon.”
The fire ring simmered on low. No one was around. Torches were lit, and laughter and music drifted from the beach, but up here, it was just me and Thad, wrapped in night air.
When we reached the Wall, Thad let go, leaving my hand extraordinarily empty.
He pulled out his pineapple slicer, and with slow, deliberate strokes, Thad carved the first five letters of my name. Then he paused. “Tell me how to finish … i-e or e-y?”
“E-y,” I answered.
He chuckled. “So right.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Thad finished etching the y and blew on my name. Without turning, he said, “Because for your name to end in a lie doesn’t fit. You’re the most real girl I’ve ever met, on or off Nil.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.