Page 83 of Adrift

I step back from Calvin, my brow furrowed and the confusion pulsing through me.

“Don’t you go overthinking now. There aren’t any rules here. You said it yourself.”

“And you reminded me there is a rule.”

“Stay alive.” Calvin nods at me. “Yeah, well, if I thought you were in danger, I wouldn’t let them anywhere near you.” Even in the dim light, I see the sincerity on his face. “Go to bed, Haley. I have work to do.”

“I’m not tired yet.” I sit down on the same log that Calvin sits on, the one facing the ocean, with the best view for spotting boats and planes. I don’t really believe he’s given up on beingrescued. If he had, why would he try so hard to keep the fire going and stay up all night doing the watch? Unless... I glance at the raft. Is he worried about seeing something or hearing something to do with me? No. He doesn’t care that much about me, or he’d let me touch him.

He stares at me and the log and then sits down. There isn’t room for both of us, so I duck my head under his arm and pull myself as close to him as possible.

“I need to keep watch now.” He puts another log on the fire. “You can stay up until the moon rises. It’s too dark to use my knife now, anyway.” And he lifts me into his lap. It’s a small victory, but I’ll take it.

The air rushes out of my lungs, and I want to tell him I can stay up until I want to. There are no rules on this island. But then I remember his caveat: stay alive. And I keep my mouth shut.

He reaches behind him and pulls on his shirt. I lean forward and help to smooth the shirt down his rugged abs. The firelight bounces off his skin. He’s glowing, and his tan arms flex around me as he periodically pokes at the fire. I’m sure if I wasn’t out here, he’d be carving in the dark or pacing the beach getting different angles of the horizon. But I’m cozy and no way am I moving unless he makes me. I’m doing his safety a service by making it impossible for him to hurt himself.

The thud of his heart in one ear and the rushing of the waves in the other makes me drowsy. When he smooths my hair down the back of my head, my eyes close. The wind whips around our beach, but Calvin’s got enough heat for the two of us.

I’m almost asleep when he stands with me still in his arms. I’ve never thought of myself as small, but nuzzled against his chest, I’m like a child. “Let me stay up with you for a little longer.”

He looks down at me. “Fine, but the moon is rising and I need to work.”

I smile at the pile of sticks next to his seat. That pile of wood isn’t for someone who thinks they are going to die. “Good. You work. I’ll watch the horizon.” I sit on the rock next to the log we shared.

“Haley. I like you, but we’re not a thing.” He picks up a stick and sharpens the end.

“I get it.” I do. My stomach doesn’t, but I do. My eyes are on the horizon, but I turn to watch him. He nudges my leg with his foot and points to the water. I turn back to the ocean. “How far can we see, anyway?” I’ve wondered this before, but I’m not usually on the deck of a yacht, just hanging around. There is always something to do.

“From here, three miles. But from our platform when it’s finished, twenty, maybe more.”

“Okay. The platform is going to be a good thing.” I nod. Watching the horizon, I scan back and forth like back in my high school lifeguarding days. The moon is getting brighter, but then I see a little fleck of light. My heart races and the little speck is gone. I blink and squint, focusing on the spot. Did I imagine it? But it’s back.

“Calvin, there.” I point. Stumbling up as quickly as possible, I round to the other side of him to get the flare gun. It’s on the rock Dante uses as a counter.

But Calvin is quicker; he has it in his hand. “Where?”

“Right there.” I take his hand and point where I saw it. “Shoot the gun!” I’m jumping up and down, the pain of my ankle absent with the adrenaline of the light. He’s holding it, staring at the water. “Shoot it off, Calvin. What are you waiting for?” I’m staring at him, not the light. I look back and the light is gone. I’m dying inside. “Shoot.”

His eyes are focused. I know he’s looking in the right spot. A white light appears and then disappears again. It’s small, so small. It has to be as far as we could possibly see from here.

“The light is white and there’s only one.”

“So. Fire the damn gun, Calvin.” I want to take the thing out of his hand, but my training told me they’re like a regular gun and misfire could kill someone.

“That’s the aft light of a small boat. It’s after midnight. The chances of someone looking out the rear are next to none.”

“But not none, Calvin. Not none.”

“We only have four shots.”

“But we have four shots. Sometimes good things happen, Calvin. Take a chance. Please.” The white dot is gone.

“What’s going on?” Zane holds the flap open. He sticks his hand outside, and then his eyes flick to the flare gun that Calvin holds. The fire is going strong, and the moon is rising. Crabs are scurrying around the outside of our fire ring, waves crashing. Time seems to stand still.

“Did you see a boat?” Zane asks loud enough to wake anyone in the raft.

“There’s a boat?” Easton echoes from behind Zane.

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