Page 57 of Reckless Girls
I don’t think I’ll sleep, but somehow, I do. I wake up just as the sun has begun to rise, turning the sky overhead a soft violet-pink.
Quietly, I slip over the side of the boat, and swim for theSusannah.
The door to the cabin is open, probably to get more air, and I move quietly down the steps, thinking I’ll curl into bed with Nico after all, thinking that maybe, we can just move past this.
But Nico isn’t on the table.
I see Brittany’s dark hair spilling out from the blanket, and it feels like everything inside me has gone very still.
My footsteps are almost noiseless as I make my way to the cabin, my blood thrumming in my ears, my hands shaking as I push open the cabin door.
Nico is lying on his back, his feet pointed at the door, his bare skin very tan against the white sheet beneath him.
Amma is draped over him, her skin shining with sweat, a blue bead bracelet around her ankle.
It’s the only thing she’s wearing.
Hey Man.
Hope this gets thru, internet is kinda shit here but what can you do, right? Back in Teahupo’o, not sure for how long. Fucking surfers, can only take so much of those assholes. Riggs is in Uturoa right now, so I might try to meet up with him there. He says it’s not as crowded or touristy, but I gotta tell you, Robs, after Meroe? Everything seems pretty fucking crowded and touristy. I was only gonna stay like three days because I figured any more than that, you end up talking to a volleyball, but I was there for like a week, 8 days? HAHA, oh shit, I just looked at what day it is today, and Jesus, dude, I was there for eighteen days, that is fucking CRAZY. ISLAND TIME!
Anyway u gotta go. Beg, borrow, steal, make it haaaapppppen, brother, because it’s on this whole other level out there. By day three or something like that, I was like “fuck it with this ramen” and started fishing, started hunting. Caught this big-ass lizard and roasted it over a fire, caveman-style. (Tasted like ass but whatever.)
Only thing—if you go keep your mind CLEAR man because that place fuuuucks with you enough as it is. Seems like it would be awesome to get high on a deserted island but trust me, Robs, IT IS NOT AWESOME. I did it one night and ended up in someApocalypse Nowshit, stomping through the jungle with a goddamn KNIFE thinking there was someone out there. Kept hearing weird noises and not jungle noises like—person noises? If you feel me? Footsteps and shit, breathing. I’m telling you, it was WILD. I ended up finding this shack, left over from WWII probably, and I remembered a buddy of mine said a dude used to live on Meroe. Guess this was his house and it was SICK. I really thought about sticking around but I figured it was only a matter of time before some assholes showed up playing Gilligan.
Still Meroe is cool as hell. WEIRD as hell, so keep your head on a swivel, dude, but go. Trust.
Let me know how the fuck you are/where the fuck you are (I won’t tell Riggs, I know there’s some shit that went down there) (fuck man am I the last friend you DON’T have shit with?)
Later—
C
Email sent December 3, 2019, from Christopher “Chipper” Davidson
TWENTY
I don’t know why I head for the airstrip.
Maybe it’s just that I don’t want to deal with anyone, and I know that no one will think to look for me there.
Nico and Amma. Amma and Nico. I keep seeing them, their bodies curled around each other, keep remembering all those moments of them talking and laughing, and how I’d told myself I was being stupid.
Good luck,Susannah had said.
Turns out, I’d needed that warning.
Tears are streaming down my face now, mingling with my sweat, but I keep pushing through the foliage.
I’ve gone several more yards before I realize that nothing looks familiar. Or rather, it all lookstoofamiliar—there’s a sameness to the jungle that makes it easy to get confused.
I stop, take a deep breath, and look around.
It’s just like it was the other day, steamy and hot, smelling thick and green, but everything feels closer now, like the air and vegetation are pressing in on me. I turn back in the other direction,but when I do, the leaves seem thicker still, the ground underfoot trickier.
I’m not panicked, not yet, but my heart is definitely beating faster as I keep going, hoping to find the right path at any minute.
But the jungle only gets denser, the heat more oppressive, and I can hear my own sharp breaths, sawing in and out of my lungs as I try to move as fast as I can.
