Page 94 of Adrift

You know when you say something and you know you’ve made a mistake the second you say it? Yeah, that’s me and weaving palm fronds. An hour in and I’ve got something that almost resembles a mat, along with a half dozen cuts from the edges of the sharp fronds. Two hours in, it doesn’t look too bad. Easton and Zane both keep checking in with me in between going in and out of the jungle, bringing ever more wood. It’s nonstop, and with each trip, they’re gone longer and longer.

“How’s it going, Sassy?” Dante gets up from where he’s been resting in the shade. After we came back from the jungle, he poked at the fire, complaining about how Easton needs to pay more attention to things, and then fell asleep.

“Okay. I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

“Want me to help?”

“I’m good. You rest up. Do you want me to cook tonight?”

His eyes widen. “I’ll leave the weaving to you. You leave the cooking to me.”

I smile. I knew that was going to be his exact response. I get back at it: in out, in out. I place the next section beside the raft door. A measly ten or twelve more and I’ll have most of the area around the front of the raft covered. Sand in the raft is gross, but the next thing I should make is the fire cover. I get to work. Dante’s asleep again, and I haven’t seen Zane or Easton for maybe half an hour. I don’t know. I wish I had my mother’s old-fashioned windup watch. My breath hitches. It always hitches when I think about her and how I miss her.

But from there my mind wanders to Sam. As much as I don’t want to think of him as dead, that he’s not gone, when I think of him as alive, I can’t help but sink into guilt. He asked me to go touring after the charter season with him. We weren’t an item. There weren’t any labels on it. Still, my mind wonders how I would feel if he went off and had a ménage à trois—no, quatre, oris it cinq? I’d be hurt. Mad. No, I’d be disappointed. My stomach sinks when I think of Sam being disappointed in me.

“Hey, Little Bird.” Zane puts his hand on my shoulder, and I jump. I didn’t even see him coming out of the jungle.

Damn it. I’m crying.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. We’re going to be okay.” Zane sinks onto the log, his legs facing the opposite direction to mine. He grabs my head and puts it on his chest. “You’re okay.” He smooths my hair. “We’re all going to be okay. We’ve got lots to eat. And a Michelin Star chef to make it taste fantastic.”

I open my eyes, and Dante has woken up. He’s kneeling at my feet.

“What’s going on?” Easton is here now too. His arms are loaded with wood, which he drops so he can join Dante on his knees in front of me. “Haley, are you crying? Why is she crying? We’re going to get out of here. Two boats. Come on.” Easton sits on my other side. He pulls my legs into his lap. “No more tears. But if you want to cry, that’s okay too.”

How do I even tell them I’m not crying about being shipwrecked but because I cheated on Sam when I didn’t even have a relationship with him? This is crazy.

“Oh, are you crying about something else? Are you crying about us? You don’t need to cry about us.” Zane lifts my chin.

But it makes me cry even harder. I inhale. And when I open my eyes, there are now four sets of eyes staring back at me. I don’t know where Calvin was, but he’s back.

“What in the hell did you do to make her cry?” He glares at them.

“They didn’t do anything.” I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. I need to be tough. Tougher than this. I’ve never cried in front of guests. I’ve almost never cried while on charter. I say almost because there was a charter last year when I figured out that Steven was cheating on me. But my cabin mate was reallygood to me. She gave me space and picked up a lot of the slack I dropped. But that was only for a few hours. I’m not one to sit and wallow in self-pity.

“What is it, then? Does your ankle hurt?” Easton runs his hand down the side of my leg.

“It’s not her leg,” Calvin scoffs, and I get the impression I’ve disappointed him too. “You know you have nothing to be ashamed of.” He hasn’t dropped to his knees like the other guys. No, I have to crane my neck to look him in the face. The sun is behind him, outlining him like a superhero.

He’s hit the nail on the head. And the other guys, even Dante, turn from Calvin to me.

“No, Little Bird,” says Zane. “You’re good. Don’t go thinking about anything, but you’re good. Do you understand?” He lifts my chin to him and kisses me on the lips. He’s warm and smells like coconuts and saltwater. I wish I could swim in his words. But I have too much baggage.

Easton touches my elbow. “Haley, we all like you. But we’ll all do what you want.”

I nod. Because what I want is what happened last night. Still, I can’t help but worry.

“Oh.” Dante stands up. “Are you worried about what the captain might think? Is that it, Sassy?”

My eyes are wide, and I can’t look at any of them. I suck in my lips and dig my toes into the sand in front of me, grateful I haven’t made a mat for where I’m sitting yet.

“Dante told us. You think too much.” Calvin’s voice is gruff.

“She does,” Dante agrees. “You have nothing to worry about.”

The next second, I’m no longer sitting between Easton and Zane. Calvin has me over his shoulder. His long strides take us away from the fire. My face is at the top of his waist. “Calvin, what in the heck are you doing?” I yell into his skin.

“Making you think less.”

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