Page 64 of Adrift

“More like something to screw us over.” He hands me his water bottle from his belt. It’s full.

My eyes light up.

“There’s a stream. And Calvin was all, ‘don’t drink it until we boil it.’ But?—”

“You drank some.”

“Yeah, it’s better than that bagged water.”

“But parasites?” I bite my lip.

“How are we going to boil water, Haley? We don’t have a pot. I’m not going to wait until Calvin finds clay, makes a pot, makes a kiln to fire the pot, and boils some water. This tastes good. If you want to wait to see if I collapse, I wouldn’t blame you.”

The moment I have it to my lips, Calvin and Easton are back on the beach.

“Don’t.” It’s Easton yelling. “We found coconuts to drink from while we wait and see what happens to Mister No-Fear.”

Zane takes the water bottle back from me. “Toss me one. I’ll open it and give it to Haley.”

Easton tosses it to Zane. He balances the brown shaggy nut on a flat rock, takes out his pocketknife, and uses the screwdriver blade and a small rock to punch a hole in it. He hands it to me. “Bottoms up.”

“I thought you’re a city boy?” I drink it down—it’s delicious. But the cup of liquid is gone in a few swigs. I tilt my head all the way back to get the last drops.

“A summer bartending at the Tiki lounge.” He beckons with his hand for the coconut back. In a few swift strikes, he has the thing opened. He pries the meat loose with his knife, leaving it in the shell, and hands it back to me. Then he repeats the process for himself. A few whacks and we’re munching on lunch that’s not raw fish or from a packet.

“Cheers.” I clink shells with Zane. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

Stretching to reach Zane jostles Dante. I pull the cushion from under my ankle and put it under Dante’s head.

Easton and Calvin are arranging palm fronds on the beach. I can definitely make out an S and the O, but the large log Eastonwanted to use for the second S is too skinny and the same brown shade as the sand.

“Want to go see the stream?” asks Zane.

“I can’t.” I wiggle my toes.

“How about a piggyback ride, at least to the closest part?”

I glance at Dante. He’s asleep, and the other two are arguing about whether they should use the tree or not. “Let’s go. They won’t even notice.”

Zane’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, they’ll notice. Question is, do you care?”

“Sure, uh, no. It’s fine.”

He straddles my legs and pulls me up, grabbing me. But now we’re chest to chest and my legs are around his hips.

“Last time I checked, piggy backs were on backs.” I’m staring into his brown eyes, holding on to his large shoulders.

“Indeed, you’re right.” His hands are cupping my bottom. And in the next second, he moves me gracefully around his back. I hold him around the top of his shoulders, careful to not strangle him as he strolls to the woods.

It’s a different world. The temperature drops, but it’s humid. Sticky, even. Birds are chirping, and there’s a little trail leading from the beach.

“The stream isn’t far. Just up this way.” Tall ferns line the path. And the farther into the jungle he walks, the louder the birds sing and chatter.

“There. Stop.”

Zane stops.

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