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I can’t stand hearing that name, and suddenly, taking a walk sounds like a great idea. “Fine.” Jumping up, I brush the sand from my legs, refusing to make eye contact. “I’ll go get dinner.”
“I can do it,” he presses, but I don’t need him doing me any favors.
Ignoring him, I grab the spear we use for fishing and march away from him. Harriet Pot Pie follows but soon gives up when I quicken my pace.
I need to get over it, but I just can’t. I’m not wired the way Saint is. I can’t just pretend that a kiss didn’t happen when it meant something to me. And that’s the real issue here—it meant something to me.
I am frustrated with myself, for my foolishness when it comes to Saint because this ordeal has bonded me to him when it should have done the complete opposite. There must be something seriously wrong with me.
Tipping my face to the heavens, I beg the universe to stop being a torturous bitch and cut me some slack—for once. I don’t expect her to listen, but she does.
The echo is faint at first as it’s so foreign to hear a sound I was certain I would never hear again. But when it gets louder, I shield the sun from my eyes with my hand to ensure I haven’t succumbed to the madness.
I haven’t.
It’s a mere dot in the distance, but there is no mistaking what it is—it’s a plane.
Life has been moving in slow motion, but now, everything whips around me, threatening to swallow me whole. “Hey!” I scream, jumping up and down and waving my hands in the air wildly.
My heart threatens to burst from my chest because I can’t believe this is happening.
“Down here!” I bellow at the top of my lungs, waving like a madman.
The plane gets closer, bringing tears to my eyes.
“The SOS!” I frantically run along the shore, desperate to get it to before the plane flies overhead.
My muscles burn, but I persevere because this is my only chance. I don’t know if I’ll get this opportunity ever again. “Saint! A plane!” I cry, running rapidly. “Throw the rum on the fire!”
We need an accelerant to make that fire go boom! If they miss the SOS, then a bonfire, blazing into the heavens will definitely catch their attention. The sand kicks up as I pound along the shoreline, looking over my shoulder to ensure I keep the plane in my line of sight.
It’s getting closer.
“Saint!” But when I reach the fire, he’s nowhere to be seen. And neither is the rum. “No!”
I don’t have time to search for it because the plane turns, and the flight path is right above me. “Hey!” I jump up and down, waving and screaming like a madwoman.
I stand by the SOS, ensuring whoever is flying that plane can see that I need help. They’re so high up, I can’t be sure they can see me, but I continue trying to flag them down. The closer they get, the louder I scream.
When it flies overhead, the noise is my savior, and I wave madly. I’m expecting them to slow down, or at least acknowledge they can see me, but when the plane continues flying away from me, my stomach drops, and I run after it.
“No! Stop! Help me!” I roar, but I don’t stand a chance of keeping up with it. “Please, no.” Regardless of my pleas, it doesn’t stop and flies away, taking my hope with it.
Breathless and running on nothing but fumes, I eventually cave and drop to the sand, sobbing. I slam my fists into the soft shore, tears of anger burning my cheeks. All I can do is watch the plane disappear into the distance. Before long, it’s gone for good.
“Ah????”
I yelp, my already frayed nerves on edge. “Where were you?” My tone is broken.
“I was picking more vines. Why?”
“Why?” I chuckle, but nothing is positive about the sound. “Because a fucking plane just flew over us. You didn’t hear it?”
“No,” he says in a rushed breath. “The density of the terrain blocks out any noise, you know that.”
He’s right. But how did he get there so quickly? The area where the vines grow is about two miles away. And it’s rugged land.
“Where is the rum?”
