Alphas

7
SOMEWHERE ON ALPHA ISLAND
THE ROAD TO ADONISVILLE
SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 5TH
11:45 P.M.

The girls’ aPod flashlights ricocheted through the dark like an unintentional laser show. Allie had no clue where they were going but was certain her bare feet would be torn to ribbons once they arrived. Still, running felt good. At least some part of her was moving forward.
Heavy breathing and the occasional nervous giggle were the only sounds they made until they cleared the alpha houses. Charlie had refused to join them, claiming she didn’t want to break the rules on the first night. Now Allie, Skye, Renee, and Triple were sprinting through the dark night. Sleep seemed to have claimed everyone else on the island—even the light of the moon.
“Let’s stop,” Renee panted, finding cover under the canopy of an acacia tree.
“Not here,” Allie J whisper-insisted. “We’re still too close.”
Skye scanned the perimeter, her turquoise eyes darting back and forth. “Why do you think Charlie didn’t want to come?” Skye pulled her fingers, cracking the knuckles.
“She probably already knows that the BBBs have zero interest in her,” Renee said, as she dashed from the cover of one Joshua tree to another. “Besides, she was sound asleep when we left.”
“Maybe she was faking? You’re not the only one who can act, you know,” Triple snapped.
“Actually”—Renee rolled up the sleeves of her glistening silver nightshirt—“I am.”
“Let’s just keep going before someone hears us.” Allie shifted from one foot to the other to keep the ground germs from sticking.
“According to this, the boys live south of here, where the circle thingy connects to the bottom of the a.” Renee announced, studying the @-shaped map on her aPod.
“How do you know fur-sure?” Skye cracked another knuckle.
“Because it flashes ‘off-limits’ every time I try to get directions.”
“Shhhhhhhh,” Allie hissed, fearing the worst—an office-scolding from Shira. At that kind of proximity, she’d definitely realize Allie’s mole was kohl. Her cover would be blown and she’d be sent to jail for identity fraud. Fletcher and Trina would become famous as the people who’d driven her to this life of deception. And they’d sell their love story to Lifetime for millions of—
“If you’re so worried about getting caught, you should have stayed behind,” Renee barked.
“In bed!” Triple added, mocking Allie’s favorite joke.
“I need some inspiration. And danger gives me that, okay? It’s part of my process,” Allie managed, leaving out the part about replacing her old crush with a new one so she could have a shot at happiness. “Besides, taking a chance on romance is a dance in tight pants. It’s risky but frisky. But make the right move and you’re in the groove.” She smiled, relieved that she remembered the lyrics to Allie J’s song “Skintight” under such extreme pressure.
“I say we follow the bubble train route.” Renee held her aPod to the ground, using the screen’s blue glow to guide them.
A tropical breeze launched the sweet smell of gardenias, reminding Allie of the time Fletcher had sample-sprayed Hawaiian Blossom in Sephora. He’d said that one day, when they were older, they’d travel to the South Pacific and smell that scent in person. Sadly, that dream had evaporated faster than the tiny perfume drops.
“Change of plans,” Skye announced. “We’re going to the beach.”
“Shira just got home,” Renee announced even louder.
“How do you know?” Triple asked.
“You think you’re the only one Taz texts?” Renee jiggled her aPod in front of Skye’s full lips. “I got the message too.”
Skye shot Allie a can you believe how annoying she is? glare. Allie replied with a whaddaya gonna do? shrug.
“They told Shira they’re going to look for their brother Darwin.” Renee thumbed the aPod screen. “Apparently he’s depressed.”
“Who isn’t?” Allie mumbled into the darkness.
“They lit a bonfire. We have to look for the—”
“Smoke!” Triple pointed toward the northern tip of the island.
“Let’s go.” Renee took off, leaving the others no choice but to follow.
Shoeless, running along a dirt path in nothing but a silver nightgown and several coats of Burt’s Bees balm, Allie felt more like an escaped mental patient than a seductress. She nibbled anxiously on her bottom lip. It tasted like wax, honey, and insanity.
They finally arrived at the beach. The pink sand felt cold, almost mentholated, offering much-needed relief to Allie’s scraped, potentially diseased feet.
“There they are!” Skye air-applauded the distant smoldering fire.
“Let’s go!” Renee slid off her silver ballet flats and charged forward.
“Wait!” Skye called, unbuckling her clear gladiators. There were dozens of clasps going up her tanned calves.
“I told you not to wear those,” Renee huffed impatiently.
“Why?” Skye fussed with a strap. “Because they draw attention to my toned legs and you’re jealous?”
“Stop!” Allie heard herself shout. “Why are you fighting? A boy/Is to enjoy/Not cause tension/Or dissension,” she quoted the chorus of “Boy-Clott.”
“She’s right.” Skye kicked off her sandals and dipped her manicured feet in the water. The gentle surf licked them clean. “We shouldn’t let boys come between us.”
“In bed!” Renee giggle-blurted.
Finally, they all cracked up. Allie had forgotten how good genuine laughter could feel.
“Listen.” Triple cupped her ear.
Their laughter ceased.
“Burn. It! Burn. It! Burn. It!”
“Come on!” Skye shouted.
The girls hurried toward the male voices, trepidation and excitement fueling their pounding hearts.
Stopping short of the flickering orange light, Allie, Renee, Triple, and Skye examined the brothers’ shadowy profiles. Sixteen-year-old Melbourne, fifteen-year-old Sydney, fourteen-year-old Darwin and thirteen-year-old twins Taz and Dingo, each in a Crayola-colored hoodie, stood around a flickering fire.
“Burn. It! Burn. It! Burn. It!” they shouted at Darwin. He was hug-rocking a white sweatshirt like it was a newborn teddy bear.
Allie twisted her jet-black glossy hair over one shoulder. Were they interrupting some bizarre boy-cult ritual?
“Come on, Dar, you can do it,” Taz said gruffly but gently. But Darwin just shook his head and tried to walk away. The other brothers turned to grab him, and realized immediately that they had an audience.
“Hey boys,” Skye trilled.
The BBBs made the split-second transformation from boys to men. They straightened up and walked over, each one offering a variation on the standard-issue what’s up? head nod. While her friends hair-tossed and smiled, Allie felt a sudden wave of lightheadedness that had nothing to do with her meat-free stomach. If only Fletcher could see her now.…
Taz stepped forward wearing a smile that deepened into a dimple on his right cheek. “We were just helping out our bro.”
Melbourne pushed down his hoodie. “His girlfriend dumped him. Skype-and-run. Brutal.”
Sydney made a sniffling sound. Was he crying about his brother’s breakup?
Renee pinched her cheeks for a burst of color. “Who do you want, Allie J?” she whispered.
Fletcher, she answered in her head.
“Did you know your pj’s are like a mirror?” Melbourne told his reflection, which just so happened to be over Allie’s boobs. “I can totally see myself.”
“Ignore him. He’s in love with himself.” Dingo extended his right arm.
“Allie.” She reached for it and shook. “J.”
“Ouch.” He winced. “Strong grip.”
“Really?” Allie dove into his grass green eyes and rolled around like a happy puppy. Until she heard a crack.
“Ahhhhhhh!” Dingo shouted.
“Ahhhh!” Allie shouted back as his arm fell out of his sleeve and landed with a thud in the sand. Blood sprayed like Evian mist. “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
Everyone burst out laughing. Except Allie, who wiped his fake-hand germs on the side of her nightgown, cursing herself for forgetting the Purell.
“I’ve always wanted to learn how to do that.” Triple tapped on Melbourne’s sleeve.
“What?” he asked.
“Look that good in a hoodie.” She smiled.
“I bet you do.” He unzipped his hoodie and handed it to her. “Try it.”
“Smells gooooood,” Triple purred, slipping it on.
Allie rolled her fake green eyes and shuffled toward the warmth of the fire. Skye had already partnered off with Taz, and Renee was discussing her character’s emotional arc with Sydney. The last thing her heartache needed to witness was budding romance. It was more nauseating than ipecac. Heavy with hopelessness, Allie sat across from Darwin. With his drooping brows, slumped shoulders, and deep heaving sighs, his outsides matched her insides.
Totally unfazed by her arrival, he pressed his white earbuds deeper into his ears and picked up the guitar leaning next to him.
What?
More than anything, Allie was embarrassed by his lack of interest. What if the other girls saw them sitting like a couple of monks? What if word spread to the mainland that Allie couldn’t score? What if Fletcher heard about it? He’d never want her back.
But Allie had never made the first move. She never had to. Allie J, on the other hand, was a different story. Allie J wasn’t as pretty as Allie. She wasn’t even blond!
Without further hesitation, Allie pulled the earbuds out of his ears and smiled.
“Did you know that however long you date someone, it takes half that long to get over them?”
Darwin popped a toothpick in his mouth. It smelled like cinnamon. “Then I’ll be fine in about six years, ten days, twelve hours, thirty-eight minutes.”
Hazel eyes. Sideswept bangs. A black freckle above his lip. Presumably real.
“Where’d you hear that, anyway?” Darwin asked with a skeptical chuckle.
“Um, my parents are scientists. For the mind and stuff.” Allie shrugged. Actually she’d read the heartbreak-to-time ratio in Seventeen magazine, but he didn’t need to know that.
She inched closer, placing herself within accidental knee-grazing distance.
He turned to face her, and she inhaled the citrus-y scent of Burberry cologne. It made her eyes water. Fletcher wore cologne.
“I’m Darwin.” He grinned at her mole.
Allie instantly covered it with her hand.
“Allie. I mean, Allie J.”
His hazel eyes looked lit from within. “The singer-songwriter-poet?”
She nodded.
“I was literally just listening to you. ‘Three-second rule for your heart/Pick it up fast/Watch it restart.’” He held up an earbud as proof. “See?”
The folksy track sounded tinny through the headphones.
She changed the topic by pointing to the small white sweatshirt in his lap. “Did it shrink?”
“No, it’s my ex’s.” His lips curved into a painful frown. “My brothers wanted me to toss it in the bonfire. But I can’t.”
“Ah,” Allie sympathized. “I just went through a breakup too.” She pulled a dark lock of hair and inspected it. “And I got rid of everything.” Including me.
“That singer guy?”
Allie sighed. Stupid Us Weekly. “No. That was a rumor. My ex cheated on me. One day I found him all over Trin—” Oops! Allie inhaled quickly. “Uh, I mean, all over a triple-meat burrito.”
Darwin burst out laughing. It was a nice laugh—low and rumbly, but genuine. “You dumped your boyfriend because he cheated on you with a burrito?”
Allie blushed right down to her kohl-mole. “Well, he lied to me about, um, being a vegan. It’s a betrayal of trust, really. If he’s eating meat, what else is he not telling me?”
Darwin nodded like he got the betrayal part.
Allie boldly snatched the sweatshirt out of Darwin’s hands. “Who cares about the hows or whys. We already said our goodbyes.” She dangled it in front of the fire.
“‘Love on a Compost Heap’! Great song.” He gazed into her colored contacts. She wanted to look away to protect her identity. But she couldn’t seem to do it. He was a magnet. She was a fridge.
“You know what, you’re right.” With a catlike swipe, he snatched the sweatshirt out of Allie’s hands and whipped it into the fire.
They stared as the synthetic fibers hissed and melted into a thing of the past.
“Yeahhhhhhhhhhh!” the brothers cheered on his behalf.
Darwin saluted them with a smirk, then turned back to face Allie.
Flames reflected in his eyes, but he still looked kind.
All of a sudden, the aPods began to beep in surround sound.
“What’s going on?” Allie asked.
“She knows something,” Darwin mumbled.
Allie’s stomach lurched. “Wha’do we do?”
Darwin and his brothers raced around the beach, dousing the fire and washing any traces of perfume from their bodies.
“Turn your aPods off! Maybe we can stop her from triangulating!” Darwin shouted.
Allie J had no idea what triangulating meant, but it updated his status from rebound to crush.
“We have to go,” Renee barked. “Now. Move!”
Skye gave Taz a peck on his cheek. Melbourne reached to pull Triple closer, but she took off before he could plant one on her lips.
Allie jumped to her bare feet.
“Wait.” Darwin stepped into his gray Converse. “Maybe you could—”
“Yes!” She blushed, suddenly missing the dark.
“—help me write a song?” It was his turn to blush.
“Anytime!” Allie jogged backward, trying to commit his perfect face to memory.
“Allie J!” Renee called, running.
“Coming!” She smile-waved goodbye, then turned and bolted.
Allie had no idea how to write a song. No idea if she was about to get busted. No idea if she’d ever see Darwin again. All she did know was that Fletcher hadn’t popped into her head for an entire minute, making this illegal outing totally worth it, no matter what happened next.