Chapter Eleven
Valerie was still in a state of shock. She’d believed without a doubt that the first Sending would’ve ended up with the two of them at the bottom and quite possibly Adrienne going home.
Instead, it had been Eden and Isla who had racked up the most stones. They had four of them, while Valerie and Adrienne had only two. And even more surprising than that, Eden had gone home.
Which meant that little remark that had come out of Valerie’s mouth about Adrienne being a human shield had quite possibly saved Adrienne’s life.
Which was what she wanted, right? She wanted to save Adrienne’s game because, honestly, that kiss had changed everything, hadn’t it?
She’d be lying if she said it hadn’t. Her pants would be on literal fire if she said that she didn’t go more than an hour without thinking back on that moment with her back pressed against the pine tree.
But even so, Adrienne was still at risk, and although they had another two or three days before the next Sending, Valerie wasn’t so sure they had enough time for damage control.
The only consolation she had was that alliances were always reshuffling in a game like this.
All they had to do was find a crack and wedge themselves into it like a splinter under a fingernail.
Valerie stared up at the sagging tarp roof that was fluttering softly in the gentle breeze.
She remembered overhearing a conversation once between Elisabet and Dixon when they were visiting The Valentine for the Fourth of July.
Their voices had carried perfectly through the ventilation shaft while Valerie had been wedged inside the service closet fixing the yacht’s central AC line.
Elisabet had been distraught enough to smash a crystal tumbler against the marble vanity.
Valerie had nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of it.
Apparently, a food poisoning outbreak at their Michelin-starred dining room in a London hotel had hospitalized a royal.
Dixon, on the other hand, had calmly rung up their PR director, who’d told them a swift, somber apology would fix it all.
Would Adrienne consider a public apology?
The only way to know was to ask.
Valerie turned onto her side, expecting to see Adrienne sleeping with her mouth slightly open, a soft whistling sound drifting out like steam from a kettle.
But when her eyes adjusted to the dark, all she could see was Hallie, a human-sized gap away.
A gap where Adrienne should have been. Where had she gone?
Valerie pushed herself up onto her elbow and scanned the beach. Moonlight silvered everything: the driftwood pile, the flat rock where the rice pot rested, the row of everyone’s shoes Amy had lined up in alphabetical order by owner, like she would with her library books.
But no Adrienne.
Valerie immediately lay back down again because what did it matter where Adrienne had gone?
It didn’t. Unfortunately, Valerie’s brain went straight to the worst-case scenario.
Adrienne hadn’t said a peep since The Sending, which, in Valerie’s opinion, was a crimson-colored red flag.
What if she had gone night swimming to clear her head and gotten pulled out by a current?
What if she’d meandered over to the limestone, slipped on a rock, and splintered her skull into pieces?
What if she’d wandered into the trees and encountered a snake?
It didn’t matter that none of them on this island were venomous. Any snakebite was surely problematic.
Valerie sat back up. Her heart was beating so fast she might as well have been sprinting.
And then she shoved herself to her feet and started speed walking toward the beach.
The moon hung huge above the water. As far as Valerie could see, there was no desperate splashing.
No sign of Adrienne at all. Then Valerie considered the very real possibility that Adrienne was probably at Moon Pit and her excessive worrying had nothing to do with Adrienne at all.
It was merely a transference. She was projecting the worry for her own safety in this game onto Adrienne.
After all, they were in this game together.
Something shifted to the right.
Valerie whipped her head toward the far end of the beach and spotted Adrienne sitting alone on a flat limestone rock, looking out toward the ocean.
Relief trickled down her back like sweat.
Without considering why she felt relieved, she hurried across the stretch, only slowing down when she was less than five feet away.
“Adrienne,” she called, thinking that Adrienne had no doubt seen her coming.
But she was wrong.
Adrienne yelped and smacked both hands through the air like she was chasing away a fly before planting them on either side of her. “What the fuck, Valerie,” she hissed. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Why are you sneaking up on me?”
“I wasn’t sneaking,” Valerie said, stepping onto the rock.
A day ago, she would never have gone looking for Adrienne.
Certainly, she never would have willingly gone near her.
But then again, a day ago she hadn’t tasted Adrienne’s breath on her tongue and hours later watched her get ripped apart by two rows of bull terriers.
Whatever she was feeling for Adrienne this minute was purely sympathetic.
She had to be completely heartless not to feel bad.
“I was just... why are you out here? It’s late. ”
Adrienne curled her arms tighter around her legs and rested her chin on her bent knees, folding into herself. “I couldn’t sleep,” she said, her eyes on the water. “Everyone hates me.”
“That’s not true,” Valerie said. But it was more of an automatic response. But Adrienne was right. Three days into this game and she’d already managed to become the most disliked person on the island. “You’ve just annoyed everyone by doing absolutely nothing around camp.”
Adrienne scrunched her nose. The moon was bright enough for Valerie to make out the soft constellation of freckles the Grecian sun had dusted across its bridge.
Then she thought back to The Valentine, to that moment where Adrienne had loomed over her in the garage wearing that tiny shell-trimmed bikini. Had she had freckles then?
“I’m not used to chores, alright.”
“You also let the fire die when it was your turn to keep it going,” Valerie reminded her. “Hallie’s fingers were bleeding by the time she managed to get it going again.”
“There was a gust of wind,” Adrienne defended, finally tearing her gaze from the sea. She looked exasperated. Good. Sometimes people had to hear hard truths. “It was hardly my fault. The weather conditions were working against me.”
“I’ve never seen wind blow out a fire,” Valerie teased. “Spread it, yes, but not extinguish them completely.”
“Fine,” Adrienne said, lifting both hands. “I get it. I’m an awful human being.”
“You’re a human being,” Valerie said, nudging a pebble off the rock with her toe.
She listened to it clatter on its way down before it disappeared into the dark with a tiny splash.
“But seriously, it’s a miracle you’re still here.
Did you bribe someone? Offer them huge amounts of money?
A million dollars is pocket change for you.
” Valerie couldn’t help it; she grinned.
The question was a joke, but it wasn’t unreasonable.
If Adrienne wanted to, she could convince any of these ladies to keep her in the game with a promise of money. “But seriously, did you?”
Adrienne sent her such a blistering glare that Valerie felt it hot against her skin. She felt many things against her skin. But none of them were Adrienne’s body parts.
“I didn’t bribe anyone.”
“Good,” Valerie said, turning her gaze down to her knees before she found herself staring at Adrienne’s fingers. “Now stop being so hard on yourself. We can salvage it.”
“We?” Adrienne asked. “I thought I was just a shield you were keeping around until I pissed off everyone enough to get sent home.”
Valerie immediately regretted her choice of pronouns. But she did not regret what she’d said at The Sending. “Yes, we,” she said. “And I said what I had to say to plant a seed in everyone’s heads. And voilà, it worked. They sent Eden home instead. You should thank me.”
Adrienne sucked her teeth as if the thought of thanking Valerie was physically painful.
Then she exhaled. “Fine. You saved my ass.”
“It’s a pleasure.” Valerie grinned.
Adrienne rolled her eyes. “If I had known you’d be nicer to me, I would’ve kissed you ages ago. Maybe even aboard The Valentine. Maybe then you would’ve fixed my Wi-Fi faster.”
Before she could stop herself, Valerie let out a laugh so loud she heard it ricochet off the craggy rocks behind them.
But instead of snapping her head back to camp to check if someone had heard, an image landed in her head.
An image of Adrienne kissing her in the lower-deck cinema room of The Valentine.
Or the eucalyptus-scented steam room. Or to Jess’ shock, if she ever found out, in the dry store pantry where the smell of vanilla pod paste covered absolutely everything.
And the image only landed so easily because she’d imagined it all before. Multiple times.
“Well, I wouldn’t have let you kiss me,” she teased. Though that wasn’t the truth at all. She absolutely would’ve. “So, there’s that.”
Adrienne laughed a little too loudly, and Valerie pushed herself up.
“Come,” she said, yawning. “We should get some rest. Tomorrow there’ll be another reward challenge, and I want to win this time.”
Adrienne looked as if she wanted to protest. She always looked like she wanted to argue the last word out of everything. Instead, she exhaled dramatically into the night sky and hopped down from the rock. “Fine.”