Chapter 28 #2
Yet he still kept his eyes averted, respecting my request to look away, even when I hadn’t said it again. My chest squeezes and I fight the unexplainable urge to look around to find wherever he is in the cavern.
If we’re unable to replenish the dust, and this is what my life ends up being, I’m going to have to let go of the feeling that it is improper and disobedient.
I’m not in Blackwood.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I breathe deeply and lift my shirt over my head, tossing it on top of the pile beside me.
My pants go next, and I stride toward the pool where they are wading.
I feel like every eye is on me, even though I know they are not, and my skin tingles under the imaginary scrutiny.
I’m hyper aware of every inch, feeling more exposed than ever before in my life.
Except last night.
I bound into the water, and any lingering hesitations after my lesson last night are gone when I see that the pool is similarly shallow.
The cool water is an instant relief, and I sigh, letting my shoulders relax as I approach them.
It’s surprising how comfortable I feel; such a huge contrast to the fear I felt only days ago.
Most of the Castaways are swimming in the pool just above us, and the frolicking and movement sends waterfalls cascading down the rock wall.
The trickling of the water intermingles with the shrieks and laughter as everyone lets loose, enjoying their time.
Someone cries out, and I glance over to see Fern cascading down a slide carved into the rock before she falls into the water, spluttering and laughing once she resurfaces.
Others are climbing up a set of rugged steps to a platform and flinging their bodies off before crashing down and splashing everyone below.
This may be the first time in my entire life that I might actually have fun. There never were gatherings, or plays, no balls or competitions. The closest might have been the time in the tavern, but back then, I wasn’t partaking in any of the merriment.
I can here.
There’s no one to remind me of how a princess should act, no lesson to get to, or orders to obey.
It’s just a group of people enjoying a slice of the endless time that they have together.
Fin screams, and I turn to see him fly through the air and splash into the water on the other side of the pool. He surfaces, gasping for air before yelling, “Again! Again!”
Weston’s deep laugh cuts through the noise and I realize he and Eirlik are tossing people through the air.
“I love it here,” I murmur, not talking to anyone in particular.
“I live for Oasis days,” Stassia says, arching backward to dip her hair below the surface before she wades back toward the beach. She sits down in the damp sand so only her legs are covered by the lapping water.
Fin’s cry peals through the air again, followed by an enormous splash. “That was so high!” he screams a moment later, and I giggle, imagining the huge smile on his face.
Water splashes everywhere as Sig comes sloshing toward us, her arms pointed over her head as she cuts through the surface, diving below and popping up far away.
“What took you so long?” Stassia calls out to her.
Jorn runs along the beach behind Stass, shedding his weapons and clothing as he goes. He takes a running leap directly into the larger pool, crowing as he flips through the air and soaking everyone around him.
“Some Voyagers were milling around in the area,” Sig says. “We didn’t want to leave until it was clear. Doesn’t seem like anyone is around now, so we left.”
I wade to the beach and sit down next to Stassia as Sig swims up to us.
My eyes dart over to the large pool and snag on Weston.
It looks like the Castaways surrounding him are fighting, but laughter rings out as they try to dunk each other under the water.
His face is bright with a smile as he watches them, all the anxiety from getting everyone to the tunnels safely completely gone.
His eyes flash to mine, and I look away instantly.
Heat rises to my cheeks, as images of last night flicker in my mind, brought on by how similar he looks now, bare skin and wet, tousled hair.
It’s hard to do on the ship, but I know I need to avoid him and get my bearings back.
After last night, this facade of a friendship is starting to feel less fake and more charged than it should be.
I can’t start to care.
The day passes luxuriously. We spend it resting in the water, sleeping on the beach, everyone talking and laughing completely carefree.
A large blanket piled high with food and drink appears on the beach at some point, and everyone meanders to and from it all day, the pile constantly refilling with different options as the hours go by.
The Oasis is a perfect remedy for the heat.
I actually enjoy laying on the beach, my legs extended out into the water as it slowly laps back and forth.
I could get used to this kind of water, but the thought of going into the larger pool or anything deeper still makes me a little uneasy.
While I have the basics down after my lesson, I’m still not confident, and with all the ruckus and waterfalls, I’d rather keep it calm.
The suns beat down on my skin as the four of us lay lined up on the sand. I close my eyes and feel myself drifting off, still exhausted after barely any sleep, and truly relaxed for the first time in a while.
“Alright, time to spill,” Stassia says.
My eyes remain closed, but I listen, curious what her next rant is going to be about. I’m always amazed at how she can have so much to talk about with people she sees all day, every day.
“I’m talking to you, Lennox,” she says.
I don’t move a muscle. “What do you want to know, Stass?” I say lazily.
“Please tell me that man is good in bed.”
Laughter erupts from my chest, as her statement takes me completely off guard.
“Oh my gods, Stass,” Auralie says.
“What? Everyone wants to know. Except for Sig.”
“Ew, he’s like my brother. Please stop,” Sig says.
My laughter calms into a giggle, still shocked that she would even ask something like that.
I shouldn’t be, not with the way she has implied things in the past, but I wonder if Sig or Jorn said anything about how we returned to the ship last night, or if this is just Stassia assuming.
There’s no way she or anyone else knows how heated things got between us, how aroused he was at our bodies pressing together.
“You can’t tell me you’ve been sharing a bed all this time and nothing has happened. I don’t buy it,” Stassia says.
“Nothing has happened,” I say with a straight face, finally able to calm down my laughter.
“You’re being serious,” she says flatly, and I open my eyes and turn my head to see her, lifted onto her elbows and staring at me like I just grew another face.
“Yes, I’m being serious.”
“Damn,” she says as she lays back down in the sand. “I thought maybe that’s why you weren’t at each other’s throats anymore.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, Stass.” I close my eyes again and focus on the heat beating down on me and the cool water over my legs.
Not on the firm shoulders and hard chest. The muscular arms hoisting me up and pulling me closer. Gaze trained on my lips.
“Ugh, Lennox! If you don’t want him, can I please have him?”
“He’s all yours,” I say.
My fingertips tingle and I fist my hands into the sand, squeezing tightly to make it go away.
Of course I don’t want Weston. I want Dane. But giving permission to Stassia doesn’t sit right, and I don’t want to think about what that means. Maybe it would get Weston off my back and loosen him up a little if they were together. I’d finally get to sleep in my own bed.
Stassia makes a dissatisfied sound and I try to hide my smile, but it disappears quickly as shouts, unlike the earlier playful ones, erupt from the larger pool. My eyes fly open and I sit up, peering over at the commotion in the water.
Something is wrong.
All of us rise quickly and scramble across the beach, trying to see what is causing the frenzy, when Weston and Ryum burst through the surface of the water, hurrying toward the beach.
“Move!” Weston shouts, and the crowd of Castaways parts, giving them a straight shot to the sand. They bound up it, and it’s only then that I see what they are dragging, or rather, who.
“Jorn!” Sig screams and pushes past us, sprinting toward them.
Small arms wrap around my leg and I look down to find Fin, pale and wide eyed.
“It’s alright,” I tell him, and squeeze him closer to me.
Once they’re on the beach, they drop him into the sand. He lies completely motionless, his eyes closed and lips blue, and my stomach falls at the sight. Sig drops to her knees when she reaches them, pushing Weston out of the way.
The silence is deafening as everyone watches with bated breath.
“Do you know what happened?” I whisper to Fern standing next to me.
“They were holding their breath, trying to see who could stay under the longest.”
I look back at them and watch, feeling like time has slowed.
Weston moved to his other side, kneeling next to Jorn’s lifeless body the same as Sig, but she is not still.
She pushes into his chest, repeatedly, before pressing her mouth to his, breathing her air into him.
She repeats the pattern over and over again, and Weston watches, his eyes hard and his face grim.
The moments feel like an eternity as I watch Sig never let up. I’ve never truly seen death before, and despite my life being threatened multiple times on the island, I haven’t known it. My mother doesn’t count, not yet anyway.
But Jorn… Jorn would.
My eyes well with tears at the thoughts of what the ship would be like without his presence, his crow echoing through the sails, his laughter and joking nature lightening any conversation.
How will Sig handle his loss?