Why wouldn’t she fake it when nobody questioned her? Why wouldn’t she just go along with it all, simply pretend, like the rest of us, to be something she’s not?
We’re so close to the island now that I can see the other boats anchoring, swarms of boys hopping off and onto the sand, carrying duffel bags and coolers over their heads to keep them from getting wet. Girls sitting on the sides with their legs dangling off, taking swigs of vodka straight from the bottle. Salt water and wind turning their hair crimped and wild. I thought about skipping the party tonight, hanging back while the others left and using the free time to sort through my thoughts, try to find some answers. Sloane couldn’t get away with bailing without upsetting Lucas—that, and she didn’t want to leave Nicole by herself—and neither of us wanted to tip off Lucy, either. Alert her to the fact that something was wrong. We’re supposed to be sharing a tent, after all, the only two roommates who aren’t coupled up—and then I had an idea.
“Luce, can you come back here?” Levi asks, bringing my attention back to the boat. “I’m getting ready to anchor.”
I’ve never heard him use that nickname before and I watch as he pats the seat next to him while Lucy stands up, stepping over our stuff as she makes her way toward the back. Images of the two of them flash through my mind again: Lucy in his bedroom, sinking deep on his mattress. Long fingers winding through his hair as she pulled him close, her lips on his. She plops down on the bench next to him and starts poking around the cupholder, always curious and forever bored, before pulling out a rusted fishhook and using it to pick at her nails.
“Make sure you girls don’t wander away when you’re drunk,” Lucas says, a giddy anticipation sweeping through him now that the night is so close to starting. “There are animals out there.”
“What kind of animals?” Sloane asks, crossing her arms.
“Spiders,” he says, his fingers crawling their way up her leg. “Alligators, snakes.”
“Just stay on the beach and you’ll be fine,” James says, and I turn around, startled at how close he is. With everything else going on, I forgot he was even here.
“Wait until you see the stars,” Lucas continues, hugging Sloane close. “It gets so dark without the ambient light—”
“Fuck!”
We all turn to look at Lucy, her sudden scream startling us all. A stream of bright red blood has erupted from her nail, running down her finger, and I watch as she throws the fishhook back into the cupholder like it somehow sprang to life and attacked her on its own.
“Here,” Levi says, rummaging through various cubbies in search of something to stanch the bleeding. I watch as it leaks out in a steady gush, perfect little circles dripping onto the floor of the boat, the cushioned seat, Levi’s shorts. He’s distracted, simultaneously trying to look and steer as the boat hits a wave at a weird angle and slams back into the water, hard, almost sending Nicole to the ground.
“Butler!” Trevor yells. There’s a subtle slur to his speech as he grabs ahold of Nicole’s thigh with his free hand. She winces, straightening herself on his lap. “Watch where the fuck you’re going!”
“I’m okay—” Nicole starts, but Trevor interrupts her, eager to keep fighting.
“Christ, dude, you’re going to kill us all.”
“It’s fine,” Lucy says quietly, touching Levi’s arm. “I got it.”
Levi peels his eyes from her and looks back ahead, through the windshield, purposefully avoiding Trevor’s gaze. I can see the tendons in his neck bulging, his jaw clenched tight like he has to physically restrain himself from snapping back. The tension on the boat is so palpable, so thick, and I realize, somehow for the first time, that it isn’t just between Lucy and us but the boys, too. Nicole and Trevor; Levi and me. This little group of us that was once so solid now warped and bending beneath the pressure of it all; little hairline fractures traveling slowly, threatening to burst.
“Are you okay?” I ask, my voice low as I watch Lucy hold her finger, the slow glide of blood between her hands like the wax of a melting candle dripping to the floor.
“Fine,” she says. “A little blood never bothered me.”
I watch as she lifts her head, eyes on mine, before pulling her finger to her lips and sucking it dry, and I get the sudden sensation of looming danger, watching her like this. Like eyeing a funnel cloud in the distance as it inches closer, collecting strength. Like we’re all marching toward something big, something permanent, the slow simmer of the last eight months morphing into full-blown boil.
The boat sidles up to the shore and lurches to a stop, the anchor plunging into the water with a violent splash. The night is officially alive with the sound of drunken shrieks and wild laughs, but all I can hear is my own blood in my ears. My own beating heart like the steady thrum of drums in the distance, the executioner’s call, intensity building until we hit the inevitable crescendo—and once we do, once we reach the top, there will be nothing left for us to do but fall.
CHAPTER 49
It gets dark fast, the little bubble of sun in the distance melting into the water as the boys work quickly, quietly, trying to pitch the tents and get the fire going before we’re swallowed by the sky. Already, I can hear the noises of the night: the quick thrash of something feeding in the distance, the buzz of bugs as they skim across our skin.
“Whiskey?” Nicole asks, walking up behind me. I turn around, registering a bottle in her hand that’s already half gone.
“Sure,” I say, grabbing it from her and taking a sip. It’s sweet, honey flavored, and the syrupy liquid goes down slow, like drinking sap. “Have you eaten anything today?”
I try to smile when I ask it, try to make it sound like a joke. A subtle reference to her request the morning after Halloween, reminding her to eat dinner, but she doesn’t smile back when she sits down next to me.
“If not, this will go straight to your head.”
“I’m fine,” she says, wrapping her arms tight around her legs. They’re so fragile, so thin, and I can’t stop thinking about the way she looked earlier, stumbling around on the boat. No cushion on her bones to break her fall.
“Are you really?” I ask quietly. “Fine?”
She doesn’t answer, both of us silent as we sit in the sand, on the edge of everyone, watching the freshmen pile driftwood and palmetto fronds into a giant pile for the fire. The rest of the boys are setting up tents in a circle around the pit; the girls by the coolers, guzzling liquor to stay warm. Suddenly, there’s a shriek in the distance and we turn toward the sound, our eyes landing on Lucy in the water. It’s practically freezing, but she’s still up to her knees, jeans rolled up and damp at the edges. Splashing Levi as he tries to carry the rest of the supplies from the boat.
“Does that bother you?” Nicole asks, ignoring my question and nodding toward them.
“So, you’ve noticed,” I say, shooting her a smirk.
“She’s not exactly subtle, is she?”
“I guess it’s just hard to understand what she sees in him,” I respond, a watery truth. “After everything I’ve told her.”
Nicole nods, her bare toes digging into the sand, and I turn to face her, knowing this is my opening. I’ve been so distracted lately—by Lucy, by Levi, by the two of them together and the memories they provoke; trying to understand how it all ties together, what it all means—that I know I’ve been neglecting Nicole, whatever she’s going through. Pushing it off until later, never. Hoping it’ll simply resolve on its own.
“Does it bother you?” I ask slowly, trying to gauge her reaction.
“Why would it?” she asks, stone-faced as she grabs the whiskey from my hand and takes a long pull, jaw clenching as she swallows.
“I just thought that after whatever happened on Halloween—”
“I said I’m fine, Margot.”
“I don’t believe you,” I push, my fingers digging into the sand. “Whatever happened … you can tell me.”