Reckless Girls(53)

I think about confronting Amma, but nothing about that scene appeals to me. “Right now, I just want to forget it,” I tell her, and she squeezes my shoulders.

“Fair enough. Stay over here with us for a bit, hmm? We’ve got plenty of room.”

I know it’s not a permanent solution, but for now, it’s enough. I nod. “I’d love to.”



* * *



AS MUCH AS I’D LOVE to hide out on the Azure Sky for the rest of the trip, I know that I can’t, and besides, I’m not the one who did anything wrong. It’s not fair that I should have to give up the island just because Amma and Nico decided to be assholes. Still, as I swim for the beach later that afternoon, my stomach is in knots. I can see Brittany sitting on a towel, watching me approach, while Jake is farther up on the beach, underneath the tarp with a book. Nico and Amma are, thank god, nowhere to be seen.

As soon as I make my way onto the sand, Brittany is there, her fingers twisted together, the corner of her mouth turned down in an exaggerated frown. “Lux,” she says, then sighs. “Shit.”

I wring the water out of my hair, nodding and giving something that tries to be a laugh. “Yeah, shit indeed. Guess you already know.”

“Amma told me.”

She steps closer to me, her hand landing on my arm. We both smell like salt water and wet towels, a sharper, earthier scent underneath. We’ve all stopped bathing as much, going in and out of the sea enough times to feel clean even though we’re not, not really. How did that happen so fast?

“I’m so sorry,” she says, and then her words start tumbling out. “If I had had any idea that kind of thing was going to happen, I would’ve stopped it, I promise. I mean, Amma hasn’t seemed even remotely interested in any guys while we were traveling, so I never thought—”

“Brittany.”

I cover her hand with my own, and she laces our fingers together as she looks at me.

“It’s not your fault,” I tell her. “It’s just … one of those things. Throw some hot people together, add stress and lots of alcohol…”

“That’s not an excuse,” Brittany says, and I’m surprised at how fierce she sounds. “It was a fucked-up thing to do to a friend.”

It feels good, hearing her defend me like that, but I shake my head. “Come on, Britt. You know me and Amma aren’t friends. Not really.”

I’d liked her, sure, but I wasn’t stupid—these kinds of trips didn’t form lifelong bonds. I was just the girlfriend of the guy Amma and Brittany had hired, and within a year, they’d forget my name, I bet.

But then Brittany squeezes my hand. “We’re friends, though. Right?”

Again, there’s this seriousness in her face, in her words, that surprises me, and I smile at her in spite of my confusion. “Yeah,” I tell her. “Of course, we are.”

“Good,” she says, then pulls me in for a quick hug. “So it’s official, I’m Team Lux on this, and they can both fuck off.”

I laugh even as my throat tightens. “Okay, well, you just met me a couple weeks ago, and you’ve known Amma for a lot longer, so maybe don’t throw her over completely. Even though I appreciate it.”

When she pulls back, Brittany shakes her head. “Too late. I already told her once we get back to Hawaii, we’re done.”

“Because she slept with my boyfriend?”

Her gaze drifts past my shoulder, and I turn to see Amma on the deck of the Susannah, watching us.

“Because of a lot of things,” Brittany says, and I wonder what that means.

Before I can ask, Jake walks over to us, his hands in his pockets, sand clinging to his calves. He looks so casual, so relaxed, and I suddenly remember with a jolt that Nico and Amma are not the only shock I’ve had today.

The money, the drugs. None of it really jibes with the man I see standing before me now in salmon swim trunks, his mirrored aviators reflecting the blue-green water and white sand.

“Everything alright?” he asks, and I nod, throwing Brittany a look. I’m sure Eliza will tell him what’s going on, but I can’t have this conversation with anyone else today.

How is it that you can be this far from anything resembling civilization, and still feel this watched, this scrutinized?

“Well, here’s a bit of both good and bad news,” Jake goes on, ducking his head so that he can look at us over the tops of his sunglasses. “Managed to get someone on the satellite phone this morning. There’s a yacht headed this way out of Honolulu next week that can bring us a set of extra radios.”

“Next week?”

We were supposed to leave Meroe in just a few days, had everything gone to plan. But now Jake was saying it was going to take even longer.

“Should add about ten days to the stay, yup,” Jake agrees, looking back out at the water. “But not exactly any skin off our noses, is it? Maybe want to tighten up some of the rations a bit, go down to three bottles of wine a night instead of five.”

His teeth flash white. “And it’s not like Eliza and I had any set schedule for leaving, really. Look at it as God’s way of saying he wants us to have a good time a little longer.”

Ten more days.

Ten more days on this island with the man I loved and the woman he’s cheated on me with.