Page 19 of See You Next Tuesday

She climbed into the bottom bunk nearest the door and flipped on a little bedside light. She’d brought a paperback; Gabe didn’t recognize the title, but it looked like one of those fantasy novels she’d once told him she liked.

“I’ll get the light then?” Gabe asked.

“If you want,” she said without looking up from her book, like it made no difference whatsoever.

After he flipped the switch, the only light left in the room was from Anya’s bedside lamp, which made it much easier to see the dark jungle through the glass wall. It was a little eerie, Gabe thought—not ideal for a children’s room. He walked across the room and climbed to the top bunk farthest away from Anya, thinking this would give them both the most privacy. But the beds were angled in such a way that he had a direct line of sight to her bunk. In the dim yellow light, he could see her lying on her back and reading, knees bent, eyes wide, lips slightly parted in total engrossment as she flipped page after page.

Gabe pulled the covers over his body. The bed wasn’t quite big enough for him, but he was so tired he didn’t care. His eyelids felt heavy, and he remembered suddenly that he hadn’t slept properly in almost forty-eight hours. Since then, he’d won an election. He’d flown to Vieques. And Anya might hate him, but she was lulling him to sleep all the same, with her soft intakes of breath and the sound of her turning pages.

Chapter 5

The bunk bed mattress was so thin Anya could feel its springs prodding her as she lay in bed reading. It was designed to support a child, not an adult who’d spent the last eight months hunched over a cheap laptop drafting Facebook posts about gay rights. Every time Anya shifted to a new position, the mattress springs would squeak and groan. And every time she moved (every single time), she’d hear a corresponding sound from across the room. Whether he was doing it consciously or not, when Anya moved, so did Gabe.

Was she keeping him awake? She didn’t think so—his breath had gotten heavy within a few minutes of getting into bed. It made her feel weird to know how his breath sounded when he was asleep; it was too intimate or something, like she’d seen him in his underwear. Which she guessed she basically had earlier that afternoon by the pool. Ugh, she wished she didn’t know about the curls of light brown hair that sprinkled across his chest and trailed down below his stomach.

She didn’t want to think about him at all, let alone share a room with him, much less be aware of the low rumbling sound he made in the back of his throat when he rolled over, one knee bent, so she could see his thick thigh poking out from beneath his blankets. She was exhausted after barely having slept last night and traveling all day, and the bed she was supposed to share with Simone was so soft and comfortable. It made her furious that she was here with Gabe instead, and it was even more annoying that he was apparently so completely unbothered by this situation that he could fall asleep instantly.

She guessed Gabe didn’t care that he’d made her feel like the worst, least likable version of herself back in Ohio—the kid who was only ever invited to birthday parties because someone’s parents forced them to include her. It wasn’t surprising that a golden boy like him (a starting shortstop at Stanford who graduated cum laude, Anya had once discovered during a shameful night of online stalking) thought so little of a geek like her, but it still stung. Which made her feel weak, and young somehow—like she hadn’t grown up since middle school. Being in this tiny bunk bed didn’t help that feeling.

Anya turned over again, rather louder than necessary, half hoping she’d wake him. He moved too, but his breath stayed heavy. She felt like an asshole—and also weirdly disappointed.

She tried to focus on her book, but her eyes hurt, and so did her body. She turned off the little reading light clipped to her bunk bed, and in the darkness the moonlit jungle outside the window took on a soft green glow. She imagined nighttime creatures scurrying through the lush tropical plants, soft sloths and shiny lizards. Were there lizards here, or did they only live in the desert? She wasn’t sure; maybe Gabe could explain in his dumb not-Attenborough voice. She thought about the whispery flaps of moth wings, the gentle sounds, back and forth, and it wasn’t long until she slipped into a deep sleep.

“Hey.”

Anya shot awake at the noise. Gabe was crouched right next to her bed. It was still dark, not morning yet. How long had she been asleep?

“What is it?” she hissed. She felt clenched and panicked, but he looked totally calm.

“It’s the gorillas,” he said, his voice low like the rumbles she’d heard him make earlier.

“Are you doing a bit right now?” she groused. “I was sleeping.”

“Anya, I’m serious,” he said gravely. “They’re coming to kill us.”

“They’re toys,” Anya protested. “Go back to sleep.”

“I can’t. I have to save you.”

That was when Anya heard a growl—dark and menacing—and her whole body filled with terror.

“Should we run?” she whispered.

“There’s no time. We have to hide.”

“Where?” Anya sat up in bed and pulled the sheets to her chest. He put a finger over his lips: Shh.

He reached down to pull her out of bed; she felt awed by how handsome he looked in the moonlight. His hand encircled hers and they were moving, swiftly and noiselessly, through a door next to Anya’s bed. It was pitch-dark inside.

“Is this a closet?” she asked. “Why didn’t I notice it before?”

“We’ll be safe here,” Gabe reassured her—but then they heard a thump outside the door, and he pressed her against the closet’s back wall. She could feel the hard planes of his body mashed against her chest, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Gabe,” she moaned softly, and he let out another one of those rumbling groans. His fingers were in her hair, and then he leaned down to drag his tongue along her neck, and then—

—

“And then what?!” Simone practically screeched.