CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 13
AS THE SUN SET, NESS WENT OUT TO START THE GENERATOR, GRIMACING as she nestled a second empty gas can beside the first. At this rate, they had maybe four days’ worth remaining if they kept usage to a minimum. That should be plenty, right? Yeah, she assured herself. Plenty.
They all seemed to be teetering on a mental ledge since seeing the boat. One by one they’d filtered back into the house. Those with functioning phones spent some time holding them to the sky, checking for a signal and still finding none.
Despite the fact that no one other than Tyler seemed to believe rescue was imminent, they quietly gathered their things, no one acknowledging what they were doing or how futile it felt. Maybe Tyler was right: hope was all they had.
After obnoxiously plopping his bag by the kitchen door, Tyler had walked, nose in the air, out of sight, declaring that he’d take a shift—likely the last one necessary—watching for signs of rescue vessels. Ness chose not to ask how, exactly, he was going to spot anything when it seemed like he could barely differentiate Hayes from Ian across a large room. He’d skulked up the path again minutes before dusk, sunburned and scratching at what Ness assumed was an impressive collection of mosquito bites. Ness had no idea where he was now and didn’t care. She briefly wondered if they could sneak off the island without him.
Now, with the generator roaring comfortingly in the background, Ness flicked on every light in the house to create a beacon for potential rescue crews. Of course, as soon as the rest of the group noticed the readily accessible electricity, it became a free-for-all.
“I’m going to shower!” Libby declared, stalking toward the bathroom. She passed Ness as though she were invisible.
“Same!” Coco said quickly. “Don’t use all the hot water, Libby!”
“Fuck yoooou,” Libby sang back.
“It’s so nice that age has mellowed her out,” Coco muttered as she speed-walked down the hall to stake her claim to another of the bathrooms.
Ness watched them go, wondering if she should follow suit. She looked exactly like someone who had been trapped on a deserted island for two days. She sniffed at her armpits and sighed. Despite their earlier swim and the communal deodorant stash that had accumulated on the dining room table—one of their best team efforts—she smelled like it too.
She resigned herself to a cold shower when the others were done. For the moment, though, she could at least air herself out.
Hayes was outside, one of the last bottles of beer in his hand. He leaned over the railing, staring at the setting sun.
Ness stopped to take in the view, locking it away in her memory as something rare and precious, before joining him. The others were scattered throughout the house, though if she craned her neck a bit, Ness could see Daisy performing downward-dog-to-plank transitions over by the hot tub.
Hayes smiled and offered Ness the bottle. She accepted, taking a swig and feeling like a high schooler sneaking vodka coolers in someone’s basement. The beer was tepid, at best. She grimaced and handed it back.
“It’s beautiful here,” Hayes said, nodding toward the deep purple and pinks of the darkening sky. “It seems wrong to hate it so much.”
“Right? In another world, a couple of days of tropical weather and nothing else to do would be a straight win. And yet.”
“And yet.”
The last of the evening light was extremely flattering . . . as if he needed good lighting to look fantastic. Ness hoped it was doing her the same favor. She studied his profile and wished she had a camera.
It hit her that, if all went as they (desperately) hoped, they could be leaving at any moment. This strange bubble would pop and they’d be back in the real world.With cameras and production assistants and dozens of people around them nearly all the time. Here, away from everything familiar and the constant attention Hayes’s level of fame garnered, it felt as though she had a real chance to get closer to him. And, most of the time, it felt as though he might want that closeness too.Would they stand a chance once they were back in the real world?
Ness turned so her back was resting on the railing, elbows propped on the sun-warmed pebbles embedded in the concrete.
“Did you really think I was dating Drake?”
“I was dehydrated when I said that. Delirious. I was thinking of someone else.” He rolled the beer bottle between his hands.
“Mmhmm. Well, to clear it up, I’m seeing no one. Very single. Happily single, mostly. Usually.” She took a beat to form her next words, gathering herself. “Being here feels like we got dropped into an alternate universe. Like anything that happens here could be easily erased, if someone wanted that to happen. We’ll hop on a boat tomorrow and get back to work. Aside from the sunburns, it’ll be like this was all a bad dream.”
Hayes had turned to face her. Their arms touched on the railing. Ness didn’t remember moving closer.
“What I’m saying,” Ness continued, taking a breath and rushing on, “is that if people wanted to revisit any old feelings, like a trial run, and it didn’t work out, it could be easy to put it down to, um, dehydration and stress.” She studied her nails and cleared her throat. “If that was of interest. To anyone.” There. Easy peasy. Who didn’t love a low-stakes proposition? Except, if he rejected it, as gently as he would—because he would do it as nicely as possible—it might crush her. Her therapist would argue that being emotionally vulnerable with those we care about was healthy. While Ness could agree with this intellectually, judging by the blood rushing to her face and the way her stomach was performing acrobatics, her body felt differently.
She reached out and snagged the beer, taking another disgusting sip. She could feel Hayes’s eyes on her.
“Okay, then.” Ness pushed away from the railing and passed the bottle back to Hayes. “I’m going to, um, go plank with Daisy. Over here.”
Hayes’s hand closed around her wrist, slowing her momentum. She looked over her shoulder at him, then turned to face him, her head tilted to the side as though she’d heard something interesting.
“You’re infuriating,” he said casually, leaning back on the railing, one hand still holding her in place.
“True. You’re not always a refreshing spring breeze either.”
He stared over her shoulder, eyes grazing across the house before coming back to rest on her.
“When you left, I shattered.” He said it the same way Ness might have mentioned that she thought it would rain later. A throwaway comment during light conversation, as opposed to a dive into the murky pool of their mutual history.
Ness’s breath hitched. She studied the wispy clouds drifting across the face of the half-moon as she tried, and failed, to come up with a response that felt sufficient. In the end, she kept it simple.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to forget, and, at the time, the only way I knew how to do that was to leave it far, far behind me.” And she was truly, deeply, eternally sorry. Not only for him, but also for herself. She’d missed out on someone who could have been one of the best things in her life. Not just her youth, but her entire life. She’d spent a very long time coming to terms with everything she’d abandoned, and sometimes she still felt the sting of loss. In that particular moment, the sting was more of a slap in the face.
She’d expected to see a storm in his eyes, a mess of feelings and words left unsaid, but instead they were as calm as the ocean.
“I put myself back together,” he said quietly. “It was hard for me to understand—I still can’t put myself entirely in your shoes back then. But I forgave you a long time ago, Ness.”
He pulled her close, slowly, inch by inch, until she was pressed against him. She tilted her head to look up at him. His mouth curved up into a small smile.
“That being said, I do appreciate the apology.”
“I’m still a mess,” she cautioned.
“It’s largely very charming,” he said, bending so their noses were a hairsbreadth apart. His breath carried the scent of cinnamon and beer, which was an unexpectedly appealing combination.
Ness’s mind raced, fast-forwarding through what could happen next. She could lift onto her toes and close the distance between their lips in the way every fiber of her being was insisting, or . . .
She exhaled and stepped back.
“There’s probably enough going on without adding . . .” She waved her hand between the two of them. “I know this was my idea. God, I’m sorry. I’m a disaster.” She took a deep, shaky breath, annoyed to feel tears welling in her eyes.
Hayes cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak. Then closed it again and settled for a nod.
In the kitchen, Coco clanged something metallic in lieu of a bell and hollered, “Dinner is served!”
Ness smiled sadly at Hayes, trying to communicate a lifetime’s worth of thoughts and feelings via the curve of her lips. Then she turned and went inside, wondering why she seemed totally incapable of accepting the good things that came her way.
* * *
Stars twinkled merrily in the clear night sky. The temperature had dropped to something edging enough toward cool(ish) that Ness had darted inside to grab a blanket. She parked herself on a dirty, lopsided lounger and peered out to sea, waiting for the lights of their rescue crew.
Over the course of the evening, everyone had trickled out to the balcony.
Bradley, Ian, Hayes, and Daisy were playing cards. Seven-years-expired tonic water and a bottle of gin someone had found in a bedroom sat on a nearby table in the shade. Every five minutes one of them would get up and walk the length of the balcony, staring at the dark ocean and searching for lights approaching their beach.
Daisy seemed to have recovered from whatever had gone on earlier. Color had come back into her cheeks, and, after receiving apologies ranging from wholehearted (Hayes) to nonexistent (Libby) for their reactions on the beach, she had moved from the periphery of the group back to her normal place in the midst of the action.
As Ness was surveying the veritable buffet Tyler had laid out, which, she noted uneasily, consisted of most of their remaining food stores, Coco emerged and plopped onto the lounger beside her. Her clothes were still filthy, but she smelled like vanilla and mint, and her face gave off a healthy, moisturized glow in the light spilling through the windows.
Ness wondered if it was too late to claim a shower for herself.
“I’ll murder you if you tell her I said this,” Coco said, leaning in close. “But I stole some of Libby’s stupid-ass Kim Beauty serum and moisturizer from her bag, and that shit is gold. Look at this.” She put her face close enough to Ness’s that she could see the tiny, unplucked baby hairs of Coco’s eyebrows. “I’m dewy. In a sexy way, not like I’ve been sweating out of every pore for the last forty-eight hours. I might have to . . . I can’t believe I’m saying this. I might have to buy some. Jesus. I’m delirious. Kill me now, Ness. I’m too far gone.” She fell back in a dramatic swoon, the back of her hand across her forehead.
Coco sat up again, eyeing the drinks on the table. She looked like she was about to go snag one, but she turned to Ness instead.
“Do you think they’re going to come back?” she asked quietly. “They have to, right? They can’t just leave us here.”
“Of course they’re coming back,” Ness assured her, with more confidence than she felt.
Coco nodded. “Yeah, right. Of course.” She stared out at the view of the island for a moment, then wrapped Ness in a one-arm hug and planted a noisy kiss on her head.
“You’re right. We’ll be out of here at daybreak. I can feel it.” She pushed to her feet. “Now, what we need is a nice, calming drink.” She sauntered over to the card game and swiped the bottle of gin from beside Bradley. She eyed Ian’s glass none too subtly.
“It’s tonic water,” he said.
Coco continued to give him the eye. “You feeling okay?”
“Yeah. I must have had too much sun earlier.”
Even from her lounger, Ness could see the cards shaking in his hand.
“Okay, man. Let us know if you need anything.”
Ian’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. It’s a thing people say to friends in tough situations. You know, ‘If you need something, we can help’? Surely you’ve had friends before?”
Ian’s chair scraped against the concrete as he stood.
“Better ones than you.”
Daisy was looking increasingly concerned, her lips pursed slightly, brow furrowed. She set her cards down and looked at Bradley, who shrugged and leaned back in his seat.
Coco’s head cocked to one side. “I don’t want to argue with you. I’m worried.”
“I don’t need your concern. I’m fine.”
They were engaged in a glaring competition when Libby came out, hair wrapped in a T-shirt Ness recognized as Bradley’s. Libby looked between Coco and Ian before striding forward and shoving them both simultaneously in their respective chests.
“Break it up.You both look dumb and you’ll feel worse in the morning.” She reached up, pulled the shirt from her hair, and started gently squeezing additional moisture from her tresses as though nothing had happened.
“Listen,” she continued, sounding bored. “I’m only saying this because I don’t want to be held responsible if he dies.”
Their heads snapped around to face her.
“Something’s wrong with Tyler.”