He leaps forward, wrapping his arms around my neck and squeezing me tightly. “Lennox, I’m sad.”
“Me too, Fin. I think we’re all a little sad.” I pull him off of me and hold him at arm’s length. “But let’s try to have a little fun tonight, alright? I’m sure Weston will let you stay up late with everyone.”
“Yeah?” His eyes widen and eyebrows rise, the distraction easily working on his childish innocence.
“Yeah,” I say. “He might want you to go play some games with him.” I nod in his direction, and Fin’s face lights up.
“Hooray!” he cheers, and speeds off toward Weston, tackling his legs and swinging back and forth.
Standing again, I turn toward the girls, and the happiness Fin brought me for a moment sinks away again. Stassia stands with her arms wrapped around Auralie’s shoulders as Auralie sobs into her chest. Tears prick my eyes, and I have to look away. I may have known this was coming; I was the one that brought them the information, but despite being one of the newest ones on the island, it is still difficult for me, too.
Especially after everything Sig and I talked about weeks ago.
Fingers wrap around my elbow, and I startle as they pull me away. Glancing over my shoulder, I find Sig, and follow as she leads me toward the side railing, far enough away from the group to be just beyond the risk of overhearing.
“I think this is it,” she murmurs as she looks out over the deck. “This is the most unsuspecting time, and everyone will be distracted.” She glances back at Weston, who has a group forming around him, and I look over the crew too. People are moving crates and bringing up chairs from below. Someone is setting up a large low barrel in the middle of the deck and organizing the seats around it.
“I think you’re right,” I say. Everyone will be too focused on processing the news and enjoying the evening to be paying attention to my whereabouts, especially if someone brings out the bottles.
“Just act normal,” she says. “I’ll be around.”
She disappears into the bustling deck, the area now transformed around me. A robust fire is burning in the barrel,and soft music floats through the air as Eirlik strums an instrument. It’s peaceful, a stark contrast to the intensity on deck just minutes before.
Auralie rests her head on Stass’ shoulder as they sit in front of the fire on a large crate. I head over toward them, noticing that Auralie’s sobs have reduced to sniffles as she stares into the fire, but Stassia has the same stoic expression as before.
“Mind if I sit?” I ask.
Stassia lifts her other arm and holds it out, giving me space to slide in next to her. She drapes her arm across my shoulders and I sidle up to her, watching the flames dance in front of us, just as they are.
“How are you doing?” Stass asks me softly.
“I’m alright,” I say. My heart aches as I watch Stassia and Auralie take this news so badly, and I can’t keep hiding from them. From the moment I met them, they’ve been nothing but honest with and accepting of me, and I need to do the same. I need to make sure that they know I care about each of them before heading into this eternal unknown. “I was actually the one who told him about the dust.”
“You knew?” she asks, looking over at me, obvious shock on her face.
“I did,” I say, sinking into her side a little lower. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t say anything.”
She nods slightly and turns to stare back into the fire, the stoic mask returning. “Makes sense why you are so calm.”
“Dane and I were going to try to figure out how to replenish it, but then I came here. I never got the chance to figure it out.”
“It’s alright,” she says, and Auralie sniffles a little louder. “It isn’t your responsibility. I guess this was just the way it was supposed to be for us. At least we all like each other.” Her lips turn up slightly, but the smile doesn’t reach her eyes.
“I’m glad to have you both in my life,” I say, wrapping an arm around Stassia’s back and squeezing her in a quick embrace.
My eye catches on Sig, emerging onto the deck from below, with two bottles in each hand. She crosses the deck, walking straight toward us and stops in front of the crate, wordlessly handing one to each of us before plopping down on the edge of the crate next to me.
Stassia immediately tips the bottle back, taking a few hefty gulps, while Auralie takes a small sip. I lift mine to my lips, ready to tilt it back, when I hear Sig mumble next to me.
“Yours isn’t wine,” she says, then takes a swig from her bottle.
I press the bottle to my lips and take a drink. The sweet flavor of fruits flows over my tongue, but there’s no bitterness that follows. I tilt the mouth of the bottle slightly toward Sig, acknowledging this element of the plan.
Having the bottle in my hand will make it look like I’m participating in the activities, enjoying the night just like the rest of the crew, but the juice instead of wine will keep my wits about me, keeping me able to enact the second part of the plan.
Now that drinks have made it onto deck, the liveliness picks up. Eirlik’s music shifts to something more upbeat, and someone has joined in with him, using a crate like a drum. Peals of laughter rise into the night, and some of the crew even start to dance.
Jorn’s voice rings out over the music, calling people over to a space he has cleared on the floor, I assume to play the game he and Weston played after he kissed me.
