“It’s always about whatever’s next,” Petra said ruefully. “When I was in Boyz Will B Boyz, they treated us like little gods, then threw us away the minute Hot Vampire Boyz came along. They think they can toss you away like garbage.”
“Rubbish,” Sinjin said.
“Exactly.”
“No, I just like saying rubbish better than saying garbage. Hotter. But you’re right, luv. They’re beasts in programming.” Sinjin tested the marshmallow’s temperature and, finding it satisfactory, fed it to Petra with his fingers. “Anyway, The Corporation was going to cancel us. So we thought, what could we do to really raise the stakes? I know! Let’s go rogue! Be real pirates. We thought we’d take a joyride in the boat, get a bit of press, jolt the ratings up again. Except when we got to the docks, we saw something we shouldn’t have.”
“What was that?” Adina said on a yawn.
“There were these blokes in black shirts. And they were unloading cargo from Corporation boats.” Sinjin’s face darkened. “Human cargo. Trafficking.”
“Whoa,” Shanti said.
“They saw us and started shooting! Do you have any idea what it’s like to be shot at? It’s nothing like in the movies, I can tell you that. It’s terrifying, and you feel like you’re going to soil your pants.”
“I did soil my pants,” George said. “Oh. I got new pants. No worries.”
Sinjin pointed a finger. “They would have killed the lot of us. Didn’t care who we were. So we sailed off and took our chances. It was like reality imitating reality TV, which is one meta more than I like. We disabled the radio so they couldn’t track us, hit a squall our second day out, and got blown off course. We’ve been on the run for two weeks now, trying to figure out what to do and how to survive at sea.”
“We’ve been trying to figure out how to survive, too,” Nicole said.
“It’s kind of a mixed-up, messed-up world we’re inheriting,” Shanti said. “When we get back, we should do something to change that.”
“Add that to Girl Con,” Adina said.
“What’s Girl Con?” Ahmed asked.
“It’s what we’re going to do instead of pageants,” Tiara explained.
“Ugh.” Adina pushed aside the bottle of rum. “No more rum. I’m sorry. We have to break up, rum. But we’ll still be friends.” Adina stifled a burp and made a face. “Or not.”
Duff stood and offered his hand. “Want to go for a walk on the beach? Fresh air would probably sober you up some.”
“I take umbrage at that, sir! I am not drunk.”43 Adina took a step and stumbled over her feet.
Duff helped her up. “I admire a girl who can use umbrage even when she’s not-drunk drunk.”
“Well, a little tipsy, maybe.”
Duff squeezed his thumb and forefinger together. “Maybe a little.”
“Walkies,” Adina said decisively.
Duff lit a torch and they walked along the curve of beach for some time, back and forth, until Adina’s head was not so rum-muddled. The tide sucked at the sand beneath their toes. The sea breeze was bracing. Stars glistened in the velvet dark beside a fat white moon.
“Hey! Did you see that?” She pointed in the direction of the volcano.
“What?” Duff said, following her finger.
“Over there, in the fog. I saw lights.”
For a split second, the fog pulsed with red light. “Yeah. That’s really weird. It’s like some kind of signal. Are you sure you’re the only people on this island?”
“We haven’t seen anybody else. But we haven’t explored all the way over there. It’s a long way.”
“Maybe it’s one of those towers that tries to make contact with deep space or track weather.”
“Except it’s not a tower. It’s a volcano. Volcanoes only do volcanoey things. And that” — she pointed to the distant point — “is not a volcanoey thing.”
“Yeah,” Duff said. “Weird.”
Adina gazed at Duff. His bare chest was an advertisement for living shirtless. Oh God. She was objectifying him. Reducing the sum of him to the hotness of his parts. She couldn’t help it.
He caught her staring and she looked away quickly.
“Can I ask you something? Why don’t you like me?” he asked.
“I-I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Adina stooped to pick up a shell. “I don’t not like you.”
“Thank you,” Duff said with mock seriousness. “I can’t tell you how much that sentence has restored my ego.”
Adina laughed. She palmed the shell. “It’s just, all the girls were losing their shit over you guys, and I just …” She tossed the shell back into the ocean. “I’m immune to the romantic pirate trope. Nothing personal.”
“Right. Romantic hero. Got it. And I’m hiding a deep and tragic wound which I mask with arrogant wit and pained grimaces?”
“Absolutely. Comes standard.”
Duff picked up a shell, too, and rubbed the sand from it. “What if that weren’t a lie?”
“Right,” Adina said, saluting him. “Moon’s high. Stars are out. Your deep and tragic wound, take one.” She clapped her hands together. “Action.”
Duff tossed the shell into the sea. “Never mind. Let’s head back.” “Wait!” Adina grabbed at Duffs arm. “What did I say?”
“You think I’m an asshole.”
“What? No! I — I’m sorry. I’m not great at this.”
Duff rocked back on his heels, his hands in his pockets. “You do make it hard for a guy to open up.”
“I’m sorry,” Adina said. “Deep and tragic wound, take two. For real. How did you end up on this ship of fools?”
Duff walked in the tide and Adina kept pace. “It was my sister’s idea, actually. She thought I should audition for season four. She kept bugging me about it.”
“Wow. Your sister really wanted the PlayStation to herself, huh?”
“No. She died of leukemia.”
Adina closed her eyes briefly in embarrassment. “Oh God. I am so sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. That was such a jerky thing to say and —”
He held her hand and she felt the warmth in her toes. “Adina, it’s okay. Really.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry about your sister.”
“Thanks,” Duff said. He picked up a conch and wiped the sand from it. “Anyway, I went a little crazy after that. Ditching school. Breaking and entering. Me and some blokes I knew stole a car and ended up in jail. I was headed for nowhere good when I saw the casting call notice for season four. The producers were looking for a bad boy. I was looking for a way out of Newcastle.” He shrugged. “There you go. Deep and tragic wound explained.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Hey, do you fancy a swim with me?”
“What, now?”
“Why not?”
“Because …” And she couldn’t really think of a reason not to.
“Last one in’s a rotten egg,” he said. He shucked off his pants and shirt, and Adina, who had taken a life drawing class, Adina, who prided herself on her body comfort, that Adina blushed very hard. There was a world of difference between a body in the abstract and a body you desired, and Adina desired Duff’s body very much.
“The water’s bloody lovely,” he called, shaking the water from his hair.
“It’ll be fine,” Adina said to herself. She stripped down and eased into the waves. He was right. It was bloody lovely.
It is said that the moon is very powerful. It influences tides and weather. It has been worshipped and deified. Perhaps it was the moon that loosened the bindings on the night and the secret wounds held so close. For hours, Adina and Duff allowed the waves — also under the sway of the moon — to carry them as they talked easily about life, school, music, family. The rum lost its effect on Adina, and something more intoxicating took over.
“It’s just that my mom had been married five times. Five times!”
Adina said. “And every time, she says, ‘This is The One, Deen. This is the guy I’ve been waiting for. My real life starts now.’ Except it doesn’t.” She let a tiny wave ripple her up and back down. “It’s so painful to watch. I just don’t want to be like that, you know?”
“I know. My dad played the field. Once he and my mom split up, I lived with him. He was always ‘the man’ and I idolized him. Always out with these beautiful women. Always a bespoke suit and a twenty for the guy at the door — and believe me, he knew all the guys at the door. Real flash.” Duff swam long, slow circles around Adina. “But after a while, I realized he couldn’t do it.”
“Couldn’t do what?”
“Couldn’t stick with anything — jobs, people, cities. It was a flaw in his design. In the end, he couldn’t even stick with me.” Duff ducked under the water for a moment. He came back up only to chin level. “He took a job overseas, put me in boarding school. We talk now and then. ‘How are things?’ ‘Fine.’ ‘Good to hear, good to hear. Got a girl?’ ‘Got five.’ ‘There’s a good man.’ It’s like spending hours opening up a perfectly wrapped package only to find there’s no present inside. Nothing but empty space.”
The moon was in a mood. She shined her full light on the water, and it seemed to Adina that nothing had ever been so beautiful, so clear: the night-gray sand, the sound of her friends’ laughter coming from down the beach, the warm press of water against her naked body, and Duff, so near, so right. She liked him. She really, really liked him. He was gorgeous and funny with a sexy British accent and a killer smile and she didn’t care if it was like something out of a bad romance novel. How could she stop this undertow from pulling her out to sea? There had to be a flaw. A catch. There always was.
“Hey,” she said suddenly. “Do you like Feast for the Fishermen?”
Duff made a face. “The emo band? Sorry. Listening to them’s like being beaten with an eleven-year-old’s diary. I’d rather take out my own liver with a dull butter knife.”
And Adina knew she was in trouble.
Duff McAvoy’s lips were incredibly soft, and he smelled faintly of the earth and salt air.
“Is this okay?” he asked, nodding to indicate his room. The ship’s cabin was close and the bunk wasn’t the most comfortable, but it beat a pallet of palm fronds in the sand.
“Yeah.”
“Hold on.” He reached over her head and fiddled with something.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing. Alarm clock that goes off sometimes. Just turning it off.”
Adina could hear the waves as they gently rocked the boat. She had a brief recollection of a bumper sticker she’d seen once — If this van is a-rockin’, don’t come a-knockin’— and it made her giggle.
“What?” Duff asked.
“Nothing,” she said and circled his tongue with hers.
His hands were ship-calloused but warm against her breasts beneath her shirt.
“Adina,” he moaned. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you have an absolutely bangin’ bod.”
“No offense taken,” she whispered, and kissed him again. He pressed his body against hers. They’d been dry-humping for a while, and Adina felt nearly bruised by it, but she also didn’t want to stop.
“Shirt?” Duff whispered between kisses. His fingers waited on the threshold of her hem.
“Shirt,” Adina said.
He peeled it off and stopped to admire her bareness. Adina felt suddenly shy and sexy at the same time. Her body and mind were at war. It was almost reaching tilt status. If this was what surrender felt like, she kind of liked it.
Duff’s thumbs played at the waistband of her underpants. “Pants?”
“Pants,” Adina echoed and kissed his neck.
Duff started the process and Adina finished it by kicking them off with her feet. He slipped a hand between her legs, eliciting a gasp.
She’d never been so nervous, so unhinged with excitement. He moved his hand against her again, and she buried her face against his neck. She could feel the hardness of him against her leg. They pushed against each other in small, rhythmic gyrations that were driving her wild.
“God, Adina.” He gripped her shoulders. He rested his forehead on hers. His eyes were closed in some sort of agony-ecstasy. “I really want you. Can I?”
Goose bumps of yes danced down her arms. Adina hesitated. “Condom?”
Duff went still. “Damn.” He flopped onto his back to catch his breath. Then he turned to her again, tracing a pattern down her sternum with his finger. “I promise I’ll pull out in time.”
He’d felt so good pressed against her that she hadn’t wanted to stop. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe just this once? No. She’d volunteered at Planned Parenthood one summer. She knew about birth control. She knew it only took once. God, what was happening to her brain?
“Sorry,” she said, pressing her palms against his chest. “Safety first. No glove, no love.”
He flopped onto his back again and went quiet. Adina felt a pang of worry that she should’ve said yes. She’d always been in control with guys. But Duff was no Matt Jacobs who hung on her every word. That’s the kind of guy you can lose if you’re not careful, her mother had said once about somebody else’s boyfriend, and Adina had growled in disgust and left the table. Yet that thought worked its way into her brain now. She could close a curtain on it, but the thought remained on the other side.
“Duff?” she asked. Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears. “Could you please talk to me?”
“Sorry,” he said, breathing deeply. He managed a small smile. “I think my balls are a shade of blue they could never put in a Crayola box. It would frighten the children with its hue of pain.”
Adina’s laugh was filled with relief. “Sure, I know that color. It’s in the box right next to Positive Pregnancy Test Pink.”
He stroked her hair and looked into her eyes. She felt her resolve weakening.
“You are killing me. You know that? I promise, extra promise, I’ll be careful,” he whispered.
“Uncool,” Adina said, and she felt tears burning at the corners of her eyes.
“Yeah. It was. I’m sorry,” he said. “Forgive me?”
“It’s just not cool to pressure somebody”.
“I know. You are one hundred percent right. I’m sorry.”
Adina wiped at her eyes. “I mean, it would be different if we had a condom.”
He kissed the top of her head. “What if I could locate a condom?”
She liked the way he said locate, all twee, like a schoolmaster. “We’re in business, mate,” Adina said.
Duff pulled on his pants and gestured at the front of them. “It’s like a compass finding true north.” Adina laughed out loud. Duff grinned. “Right. Off on a mission of grave condom importance.”
He started toward the cabin door, then doubled back for another kiss, then jogged backward, keeping her in his sights. “Do you know how hard it is to move quickly when your balls are approximately the size of cantaloupes?”
“Would you stop it?” Adina chided, giggling, and she wondered when she’d become so … girly. She’d never said ‘Would you stop it?’ like that, ever. It was such an ingenue thing to say, and Adina had never played that role. What was happening to her?
He was back. The condom package dangled from his fingers like a gift bag prize.
“Sinjin’s cabin.”
“Might’ve known,” Adina said.
Duff dropped trou and pulled the condom on, then positioned himself above Adina. “Now. Where were we?”
He looked into her eyes and Adina felt lost in them, and she had to admit that in this moment, she wanted to lose herself. Nothing else seemed to matter. She imagined the two of them living out their days in a tree house on the island or setting sail through the Caribbean. At night, she would sing ballads she’d written about him. He would read to her from books of poetry. And afterward, in the small cabin, they’d do this, this tangle of bodies, this blurring
of the edges that kept people distant and lonely. Her love would heal his bruised heart. He’d want her only, would think of no other girl but her. They would make each other special. The idea was like a drug. This was what girls chased, this feeling. This was what was so hard to admit amidst all the theorizing — that the truth was murkier and deeper and had nothing to do with theory. Desire played by its own rules. She wanted him to want her. Madly. Truly. Completely. His wanting her supplied a missing piece she couldn’t supply for herself; no matter what the self-help books said, desirability was something reflected back to you. And right now, she needed that.
Duff’s little moans traveled up her spine, made her head buzz. And another thought grabbed hold: She was doing this. She had the power to do this. That she could be both completely vulnerable and totally in control was mind-blowing.
“Wait,” she gasped, pressing her hands against his chest.
“Are you okay? Am I hurting you?”
“No. I mean, yes, I’m okay, and no, you’re not hurting me.”
“What is it?” He kissed her.
She wanted him. She wanted this. It was her choice.
“Nothing,” she said and joined him fully.
Sosie had danced so much, her muscles ached. She welcomed the pain. The pain reminded her that she was a dancer, that she was someone named Sosie. Lately, she wasn’t so clear about who or what she was. It was as if she had become merged — Sosieandjennifer — and she missed being herself. Alone, she stretched out in the sand down the beach under the swishing leaves of a palm and stared at the sky. That moon was something else. It was a moon built for big dreams and romance.
She knew Jen was probably looking for her — who would want to waste a moon like that? But Sosie didn’t want to share this moon and this moment. She wanted it all to herself. And something in that desire made her realize how far she had drifted from that first flush of excitement with Jennifer. Her affections were waning, and she wasn’t sure she could get them back. The thought upset her. She didn’t want to think about that, and so, despite the throb in her legs, she got up to dance again under the bright full moon.
“That’s some moon,” Petra said.