Chapter Sixteen – Jack
Chapter Sixteen
JACK
‘S o which one of you is the pyromaniac?’ I ask, closing the door behind me. The wind is still blowing a gale.
Andie steps forward. ‘We were toasting marshmallows. But it was all under control.’ Her eyes dart around the room. She’s extra cute when she’s lying.
The smoking fire pit, scorched grass and upturned bucket tell a different story. ‘I take it this was the only lucky sod saved from a fiery grave?’ A smile teases at the edge of my mouth as I place the photo of the finance bro on the coffee table and shift my gaze back to Andie’s face, searching for any glimmer of emotion. Is this city schmuck her type?
But it’s Taylor who reaches down and snatches up the photo.
‘Are you here to help us switch the electricity back on?’ Andie asks, voice hopeful.
I relish the opportunity to appear like her knight in rubber thongs.
‘Not quite, but I came over to show you where all the torches and blackout supplies are kept. It’s an island-wide blackout. We get them at least once a month when the weather heats up too much. Moorings doesn’t have a generator, unfortunately, but power should be back on by the morning.’
I’d attempted sending Andie a text first, directing her to the upstairs hallway cupboard, but of course it hadn’t gone through. So I decided it was easier to come over myself.
‘Thanks. Erm – and – um – ah – the plumbing?’ Andie asks, cheeks pinked. I try not to shine my torch directly in her face.
‘I would avoid where possible. The pump is electric.’ I debate whether or not to make a joke out of their bowel movements and turn that adorable pink even pinker. Ah shit, I can’t resist. ‘And no pool wees either. That pump will also be out, so it’ll be embarrassing in the morning when you wake up to a yellow-themed pool.’
‘You know about the stupid yellow theme?’ Grace cackles.
A deep, painful silence settles in the room and my skin prickles.
‘Ah yes, I gathered from the decorations. I saw a sign – lemonade out of lemons, right? Genius.’ I know I’m overcompensating but the hurt look on Andie’s face is causing my heart to follow suit. I’m trying to figure out what else I can do to ease the tension when the fridge lets out a loud belch, like brakes grinding to a halt.
Andie winces. ‘I don’t suppose you brought any ice with you?’ she asks. ‘I doubt the very un-yellow prawns I picked up earlier will make it through the night unchilled.’
‘I didn’t,’ I reply, grimacing. ‘But hey, how about I get you girls sorted with torches, and I’ll go grab you a bag.’
I’d intended to drop some ice over to Charlie at the shop, but this feels like the kind of extraordinary situation that takes precedence over any prior plans.
‘Thanks. I can come with you though, so you don’t need to make the trip back,’ Andie offers.
‘It’s fine. I don’t mind coming ba–’
I stop as I see her expression and realise this is her ‘get out of Moorings free’ card.
‘That would be great,’ I agree.
We each hold a torch, the lights darting ahead and occasionally crossing paths like frisky fireflies.
Once we’re a few hundred metres from Moorings, I turn to Andie. ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Okay?’
The dark makes her feel incredibly close. ‘Are those girls really your friends?’
‘Sorry?’
‘It’s just that from what I’ve seen, you do a lot for them – like organising this trip, right? Yet they don’t seem to really appreciate it.’
I hope I’m not overstepping too much. I can’t imagine Charlie being anything less than grateful for the help I give him.
Andie sighs, pulling slightly ahead of me. ‘Things have been a bit strained between us recently.’
‘I’m sorry to hear it,’ I say, picking up my pace to catch up with her. I know these paths like the back of my hand, but one wrong step, and she could go flying over a tree root. ‘That sounds a bit shit.’
‘It’s fine,’ Andie says, her voice so small it’s snatched up by the howling winds.
I hesitate, considering how to phrase what I want to say next. ‘You’ve said no to Miss Gluten-free before though, right?’
‘Of course I have,’ Andie says quickly.
‘Oh my God,’ I mock gasp. ‘You haven’t!’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she mutters.
‘I just don’t get why you seem to be catering to their every whim,’ I say.
‘You don’t have to get it. Why would you?’
‘How about what you want?’ I ask boldly.
She laughs, but it’s shallow. ‘This is not the time for what I want.’
I wish I was brave enough to ask what she means, but I fear I’ve already pushed too far.
‘Practise saying it with me. N-O,’ I say instead, grinning as I trace the letters on the ground with my torch.
‘Honestly, I don’t mind. I just want to make sure this trip is amazing for Taylor.’
‘Come on. I believe in you.’
‘Will it make you stop badgering me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Fine.’
I picture her rolling her eyes.
‘No,’ she huffs.
I flash her a thumbs-up. ‘There you go. How did that feel?’
‘Jack, I’m a kindergarten teacher. “No” is certainly in my vocabulary.’
I feel a zing of warmth. Her profession doesn’t surprise me – all duty and care. It suits her perfectly. ‘A teacher, huh?’
‘Yup, I love it. Now it’s only fair that you share the thing that lights you up.’
I flush, my reply on the tip of my tongue, but then . . . what should I say now?
‘Why, cleaning rooms at Clam Cove of course,’ I joke instead, the truth painfully sticking in my throat. I’m desperate to change the subject. ‘How about you give that ‘no’ one more try?’ I say. ‘Louder this time – for all of the lions and tigers and bats out there. I’ll join you, Dorothy.’
She stops walking and turns to look at me, wrinkling her nose, but a smile spreading across her face.
Got her.
‘Just one more time, okay?’ she says.
‘Sure.’
For now.
‘NOOOOOOOOO!’ we yell together into the ether. We’re answered by the startled cry of a distant bird.
Andie turns to me. ‘Happy now?’
‘Very.’
‘The dark is so weird,’ Andie says as we turn into the generator-lit driveway of Clam Cove Resort.
At some point during our journey, she reached for my arm during an uneven section of the path, and we’ve stayed linked.
‘It is.’ I’m intrigued to hear where she’s going with this.
‘When you can’t see, you really realise how much we rely on our vision to etch images – memories, really – into our minds, hey? And our mind is like a tapestry woven with all the pictures we’ve gathered over a lifetime, stored in the belief that it’s a reflection of reality. Even if that’s not how things happened in the first place.’
My hand tightens around her arm. ‘So, you’re wondering how your mind will store this particular memory?’ I ask.
The driveway is bathed in a yellow-gold glow, casting the same hue on her beautiful face. I’m glad we’re back in the light, and I get a full view of her expressions.
Her forehead creases. ‘Yeah, I don’t know. Maybe it will file it under smells and sounds?’
‘Hmm, so salty brine and loud, nocturnal birds?’
‘I was going to say citrus, sweat and heavy panting. For someone who looks like you –’ she stops. ‘Well, anyway, you were panting a lot,’ she finishes hurriedly, dropping my hand.
‘Hey! The panting is because I’m nervous. The dark is very scary.’ So is being alone with the girl you’re liking more with each passing second , I think.
‘Evil stalks us at night,’ Andie says. ‘It’s why the most frightening scenes in sci-fi and action movies are always filmed in the dark and why I hate watching them.’
‘So do you have a favourite movie?’ I need to skill up in Andinese.
‘That’s like asking me to pick a favourite student. Well, I could probably do that, but I’d also never!’
I laugh at her outrage.
‘But if I had to choose . . .’ She pauses. ‘You’re like, “gun to my head” forcing me to, right?’
‘My pistol is right here, sweetheart.’ I gesture to the pocket of my board shorts.
‘Well, When Harry Met Sally then,’ she breathes. ‘My mum’s favourite.’
I’m so caught up in her luminous face that I’ve failed to notice we’ve reached the resort kitchen.
‘I’ll add that to my Netflix schedule immediately,’ I say. ‘Okay, do you want to wait here, under this light?’
‘You’re just going to leave me here?’ she squeaks.
I raise a finger to my lips. ‘Shh, this isn’t exactly a sanctioned ice heist. I’ll be right back. Before Freddy Krueger comes for you, at least.’
When I emerge with the bag of ice – possibly the last one on the island – Andie’s body visibly relaxes as she spots me walking back to her, and my stomach somersaults. I remind myself she’s just relieved because I don’t have knives for fingers.
A plan takes shape in my mind.
‘Hey, want to go scare the boys?’ I greet her.
Something about the way her face lights up in wicked glee fills me with incredible pride.
‘I’ll assume that’s a rhetorical question.’