Chapter Twenty-Five
Mathieu
I sit on the edge of the surf, cradling my knees. Waves wash over my feet, wetting my shorts. The sand is racing out from beneath my butt, my seating becoming unstable.
“I messed up,” I say to nobody. I let my tears fall undisturbed and curl tighter into a ball. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”
I was meant to show that I’m reliable. That I can be a good, steady boyfriend. What did I show Jules? That I’m a slave to my whims. That I want him so much I lose all good sense. That the only reliable one is Cillian.
Cillian’s not impressed with me either. The weight of his disapproval joins everything else that was thrown at us.
I didn’t mean to lose the run of myself. I just—I was checking what Jules had said. Seeing if I understood right what he was getting at. It was bad timing, and I knew that in the moment, but—
I hear a swish behind me.
I wipe my tears and turn. It isn’t Cillian coming to give out to me, but a little bird. One of the small ones that run away from the waves on the beach. The bird darts around me, apparently deciding I’m no threat at all. I’m harmless.
I shouldn’t have asked Jules out. He was vulnerable. But if I apologise, will he think I didn’t mean it? People tend not to take me seriously, so if I take it back this time, then who’s to say he’ll even give me the time of day if I try to ask again.
Would I even find the courage to ask again?
I get to my feet, and the bird skitters away. I pick up the rock he’d been dancing around and walk back up the beach. Willow and Yasop are talking together at the signal fire, still there even though it’s the middle of the night. I bet they can’t sleep either.
“How is he?” Willow asks.
Upset, pissed off, and scared. “He’s talking,” I say. I continue on, not stopping. I don’t want to get dragged into a conversation when I have nothing coherent to say on the matter. I hesitate at the path winding into the camp.
Have I given it enough time?
I don’t know. I start along the treeline, turning over the rock. It fits perfectly in my palm. I know that Darren’s lean-to is farther along the beach, past the track to the watering hole—Seán told me earlier—and so I keep going past that.
It’s hard to make out much with only the light of the stars, but eventually I spot the white flash of the sail he used for his lean-to.
I crouch, creeping forward. I peer around a tree trunk.
It’s all dark shadows in his camp. I think a black shadow is his foot.
I don’t hear snoring, which Darren does. He must still be awake.
I’m disgusted that he lay down next to Jules in the camp. Jules’s tension, which I thought was fear and soreness that first night, comes back to me, turning my disgust to anger.
I’ve always prided myself on being able to read people, yet I missed what was really behind Jules’s reaction to Darren.
I knew Jules didn’t like having Darren next to him, but I didn’t consider there could be more.
I’ve never been in a relationship. My siblings all have lovely partners, and my parents’ marriage has always been harmonious.
I didn’t know, but I do now.
I cock my arm back.
Cillian’s parents weren’t harmonious, and he didn’t want me to go near Darren. He’s worried that it will blow back on Jules if Darren is embarrassed. I lower my arm without throwing the rock. As I step back, a twig snaps underfoot.
“Who’s there?” Darren calls.
His shadow rolls out from the lean-to. I take off down the treeline at a dead sprint, counting a handful of seconds before darting into the trees and ducking.
I hold my breath when Darren comes by. I see him better on the beach, where he stops to look around.
He peers into the trees, not far from where I’m crouching.
I pray my hair won’t catch the moonlight.
His eyes move unseeing over me, and after a few more seconds and a curse, he turns and walks back the way he came.
I wait a good stretch before moving and continue through the trees, scraping my legs and collecting cobwebs in my hair. I wait until the curve of the island will keep me from view to leave cover.
I step onto the sand, shaking out my hair.
“What are you doing?”
I yelp, swinging around.
Seán stands behind me, scanning me with a critical eye. “Willow said you snuck off this way. I was worried you were going to talk to Darren, but what are you doing in the trees?”
My cheeks flame. I straighten up, ignoring the snags in my hair. “Cillian asked me not to. I won’t talk to him.”
“So what are you doing?”
I don’t say anything. The suspicion in Seán’s eyes grows. “I don’t want a Lord of the Flies situation.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It means—look. This sucks. But we can’t go and decide that we’re going to enact justice, because that’s a slippery slope that will get us all into trouble.”
“He choked Jules.”
“I know. But the best thing we can do is keep things calm, so it doesn’t get dangerous for us all. Darren will be properly reported when we’re—what’s that in your hand?”
I turn my palm up, showing the rock. Seán stares at it. He doesn’t say anything for a long time. I feel as though my older brother is looking down on me after I’ve done something particularly bold.
I have made many mistakes tonight, but for this one, I stopped myself in time. “I didn’t throw it.”
Seán still doesn’t seem happy.
“Am I going to have to be separated from everyone?” My voice rises. “I didn’t throw it.”
“Of course not. I know you’re not going to hurt anyone,” Seán says. “Just promise you won’t go near him again. Let’s not make things any more complicated.”
“He didn’t see me.”
Seán sounds very similar to Cillian when he sighs. “Do me a favour. Don’t tell anyone about this, especially Cillian.”
I think that this midnight trip would not earn me any points in terms of reliability, nor would it ease any of the hurt of the night.
“Okay.”
When I finally return to Cillian and Jules, it’s with the certainty that I’ve let them both down.