Page 29 of Unmoored

The silence on the other end is so deep that I glance at my phone screen. But he hasn’t hung up on me. He’s just stunned that I’ve grown a backbone. “I—uh—okay, maybe it was… I shouldn’t have—but anyway, that’s not my point.”

Wow.Even for George, this takes some fucking brass balls.

I thump my forehead slowly against the wall of the boat. With every word he speaks, all I can think is how much I’ve changed in a short time—and how much I don’t want to go back there. Not ever again.

“I thought we already had an understanding,” he says, picking up steam as my jaw drops further and further in disbelief. “Listen, we can do a deal. We start fresh. Both of us get what we need. You help with my career, I help with yours. And we don’t have to like each other right away. It takes time to mend bridges, right?” I make a tiny, strangled noise. “And,” George rushes to keep talking over me, “you get to leave that shitty so-called boat in the junkyard. I mean, we should live together, for appearance’s sake… but… we can work something out. I could give you the guest room.”

“The guest—” I can’t keep my laughter in anymore. My ribs ache from holding it in. I double over, almost wheezing for breath.

“What?” George snaps. I almost pity him. Who the hell wouldn’t see that he’s only making it worse? Then again, if he could see his hand in front of his face, I wouldn’t be here—literally. So I guess I should be grateful for his obliviousness.

“That’s just it. The only thing I wanted from you was…you. And that was the one thing you could never give me. Without that, it’s not love, George. It’s just a bad business deal. I’m going to find what I deserve. I hope you get what you deserve one day, too.”

“Wh—” George huffs, but I’ve let him waste enough of my time.

“Goodbye,” I tell him, and I hang up.

A grin spreads over my face as I keep tapping at my screen, looking through the menus. As satisfying as that was, I can do one better. I tap theblockbutton, close my eyes, and sigh. “And that’s it.”

George had to show up and rain on my parade one more time. But he’s gone, and I have more important things to think about—like getting to the Sunrise Island grocery store before it closes.

“So… where the hell is that inflatable dinghy?”

ChapterTwelve

EDEN

My newfound loveof boats doesn’t extend to inflatable dinghies.

This goddamn boat goes any way besides the direction I want it to. My lungs are burning, my arms feel like limp spaghetti noodles, and my stomach aches like that one time I tried a social media sit-up challenge.

Worst of all, the smell of fish and chips has been tormenting me for the last twenty minutes. I’m right next to Sunrise Island’s floating restaurant, which doubles as the waiting room for their tiny passenger ferry.

I want to just lie down and let the sea take me.

On the bright side, I’ve created a problem that fixes another problem. Being really bad at paddling means I’m splashing myself with every stroke. And if I’m soaking wet, I’d like to think I won’t pass out from heatstroke in the ferocious afternoon sun.

Murph’s right: I need a real boat. If I make it back alive, I’ll pour caffeine into my veins and study buoys and flags until my eyes cross.

A few feet away, there’s a chattering noise.

“Not you again,” I groan, twisting around and pushing my sunglasses up my sweaty nose for the umpteenth time. Sure enough, almost within touching distance is the fuzzy face of the new nemesis I’m calling Mr. C. Otter.

I haven’t decided what the C stands for yet, but I’m starting to get some ideas.

Mr. Otter has been following me ever since I left the houseboat, popping up every few minutes to check on my progress. And I swear to god he’s laughing at me.

“Hey. I wouldn’t make fun of you for trying to climb a tree,” I complain.

Mr. Otter twists onto his back and paddles, cutting through the water in the blink of an eye as if he’s demonstrating. Then he pops upright and chitters.

“Jerk. It’s not that easy for us humans—” Mr. Otter disappears underwater, so I break off with a huff. “Thanks for the moral support.”

Time to get going again.

I grit my teeth and dig deep, sticking my paddle in the water and hauling myself forward. I’m almost at the passenger ferry dock. I was originally aiming for Sunrise’s public wharf, but I’m never going to make it there in my lifetime.

One last push. I’ll pretend George is behind me, and Murph is ahead. In fact, Murph’s at the restaurant with a dozen roses… and he takes his shirt off to give it to me while I dry off…

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