I swim up to her now, too, and take her hands in mine, squeeze until she stops trembling. “We’re not going to die here. We’re too pretty to die. Nobody could be that cruel.”
A small smile from Tatiana.
Aggie sighs and flops backwards, letting the ocean cradle her. “All I know is, if I get eaten by a shark, I want it to be one of those giant sharks that look like they’re straight out of Jaws. I want to be famous. Don’t let me get taken by a tiny girly shark. That would be shame...”
Tatiana laughs, and the tension loosens just enough.
We float in a lazy circle, the ocean’s water so clear it is almost unbelievable. I kick my heels gently and look at the sky. “You know what I think about?” I ask. “Hamburgers. Just massive, greasy burgers. My first meal off this island is going to be the biggest burger I can find.”
Aggie snorts. “I want an iced chai and a proper pedicure. My feet look like Hobbit feet. Look.” She lifts a foot out of the water. Her feet look just like anyone's, except for her, that is a problem as she always has perfectly pedicured feet. “A crime.”
Tatiana sighs. “I want noodles from that place on 14th, the one with the ocean-style toilet seats.”
We float there until the sun begins to shift, sharpening the edges of the shadows splaying out over the water. The tide nudges us inland, toward the split in the rocks that leads to our camp. While we’re swimming, I notice Tatiana’s arms, and they are covered in thin, angry red lines climbing up the crook of her elbow, some half-healed, others fresh.
I reach over, fingers gentle, and trace the injuries with one finger. “Tati,” I say. “These... have you been doing this?”
She tenses, and for an instant, I think she’ll pull away or lie. Instead, she looks at the water and says, “It’s nothing. I just... it’s stupid, I know it’s stupid—”
“Not stupid,” I say. “Never stupid.”
She shrugs. “It’s just, the last few months, I’ve needed—like, with me being stood down and the stress, I started with anti-anxiety meds. My doctor said it was normal, but I never told anyone. And then, this.” She gestures at the horizon, the island, the strip of beach we now call home. “I ran out two days ago. I’m scared, Grace. I don’t know what happens to me if I don’t have them.”
Aggie is silent, which is rare.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” I ask, carefully. “We would have never judged you.”
Tatiana closes her eyes, exhaling softly. “I don’t know, I guess I was embarrassed.”
I take her hand. “Girl, don’t be. We all have things we’re hiding from. Mine is just—less obvious. But it’s always here.” I tap my head.
“Yeah, trust me girl, I am a mess inside this head,” Aggie nods. “We got your back.”
“I love you guys,” Tatiana smiles, a smidge of relief on her face.
“We’ll get you through this,” I promise her.
Aggie cuts through the silence as we walk out of the ocean. “Okay, serious time over. Let’s talk about Rachel. Do you think she’s going to lose it completely?”
It’s a valid question.
I look up at the boat and our ragged little shelter. “I think she’s in shock,” I say. “It could get worse, or it could get better. I guess we won’t know right now. All we can do is give her the space she needs. Adrian, on the other hand, might find himself in an early grave.”
They all laugh.
“Gosh, he is so weird,” Aggie giggles. “Yesterday, I was walking past him on the pee trail and he stopped and told me that he is constipated and asked if I had any remedies. When I told him that he is gross, he told me he has got his eye on me and pointed to his eyes, then to me. Like what the hell, dude.”
We all lose it laughing.
“He kind of breaks up the tension,” I admit. “He’s entertaining.”
“He’s something,” Tatiana mutters.
We all fall silent again.
“We’ll get through this. We will,” Tatiana says, a strength in her voice that wasn’t there a few minutes ago.
It hits me then, how every one of us is fracturing, coming apart in private ways and then fusing back together by necessity. We’re a whole girl tribe, patched with desperation and loyalty and bad humor. I look out to the horizon, searching for a dot, a sail, any sign of civilization. There’s nothing. Just the ache of the tide and the soft, infinite blue.
