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“No. I don’t blame myself. I would do anything to ease her suffering, and I guess I also hoped it would ease mine. If I told my mother we were okay, it meant we were, even if we weren’t. But the result was, we never fully grieved. We sucked it up. Put on a brave face. Pretended we were strong and fine when we weren’t. They kept her room the same because to take it down would mean they’d have to face some ugly feelings. And, I mean, look at me. I’m not fine.”
“And how does it make you feel, to admit that?”
“Good…” I close my eyes and let myself feel it. Really feel it. “I’m not fine.”
“Louder.”
“I’M NOT FINE!” I yell into the jungle.
“I AM ALSO NOT FINE!”
“I AM NOT OKAY! AT ALL!”
“I AM A HOT MESS! HEAR ME ROAR!”
I start laughing at our screaming match. “I’m pretty sure they heard us back at the barracks.”
“Ugh,” she says, exhaling heavily. “I don’t want to go back there. I feel like I made a fool of myself. And Lacey is just going to rub it in my face.”
“She won’t. Richard gave her a talking to.”
She pulls back and squints up at me. “I don’t believe that.”
“Believe it. I may have stuck up for you as well, but I’d hope you’d think that’s a given with me.”
Her smile is amused. “I don’t think anything is a given with you, Tai. You have been the grumpiest motherfucker up until recently.”
“Maybe I just needed to get laid.”
She rolls her eyes and winds up, punching me in the chest. “You’re an ass.”
“See, back to basics.”
Tell her how you really feel.
She was brave with you, opening herself up for the first time, do the same with her.
Tell her you want her, not just for now, but for all of time after this.
I swallow the words down before I have a chance to say them.
Not yet.
A drop of water splashes on Daisy’s forehead.
“Please tell me that wasn’t bird poop.” She winces. “I’ve had enough bad luck lately.”
“It was water. And bird poop is good luck.”
“For who, the bird?”
A drop now falls on my head.
I look up.
It’s spitting with rain.
“I think the storm is here,” I tell her.
“Already?”
As if on cue, the sky darkens, opens up, and dumps a deluge of rain on us.
“Ahhhh!” Daisy cries out.
We are soaked to the bone in seconds flat. The noise of the rain is deafening, every drop ricocheting off the leaves.
I grab her hand. “Come on. I’ll take you back.”
But she seems rooted in place. Not moving.
I give her a quizzical look.
“How are we going to get through this?” she asks, her voice quiet against the roar of the downpour, the rain running into her eyes, her mouth. “Not just this storm, but all the days ahead of us?”
“One sunrise at a time,” I tell her. “One sunrise at a time, and with me by your side. Okay?”
I squeeze her hand.
She squeezes mine back.
“Okay.”
* * *
The storm is a fucking monster, maybe even worse than the one that wrecked us.
It comes down on the Plumeria Atoll like it’s out for revenge.
Perhaps it is.
Maybe it didn’t like how lucky we got last time.
But it won’t get us this time either.
When Daisy and I got back from the jungle, the storm was already blowing something fierce. The conditions on the island changed in a second, from hot and sunny, to windy and wet, the pressure in the air heavy, alive, and crackling.
Fred was already halfway across the lagoon with Lacey and Richard, though I knew they’d come back for us. So Daisy and I went around collecting what we could for the journey over. The storm would probably last a day, two at the most, depending on how big it is.
We worked quickly, silently. Daisy was no longer panicking, she was handling things really well, considering.
Then Fred came back. By then the lagoon’s waves were whipped up and I knew it was going to be a bumpy ride. It didn’t help when some of the water started splashing up into the boat, and then Fred mentioned the sharks.
Oh, you could see the sharks alright, dark shapes right beneath the surface, in a frenzy because of the currents and the weather.
I thought Daisy was going to freak out, but to my surprise, she was calm. She looked more curious about the sharks than anything. Perhaps she’d be a great marine biologist after all.
Finally, we made it to Fred’s camp, and quickly got ourselves inside, where we are right now, in the mess hall.
Or at least, that’s what Fred calls it.
It’s really just a concrete building with a small, basic kitchen in the corner and a long metal table in the middle. For whatever reason there’s a faded poster of The Avengers on one wall. All of us are sitting around the table in folding chairs, sipping coffee. Our wet clothes are piled in the corner to be dealt with later, and we’re all in dry clothing, which is a small comfort, but still a comfort.
