Page 50 of Here for a Good Time
For all of his charm and bravado, in this moment, he can’t pretend to be anything other than what he is: young and scared. “No,” Zwe rushes to answer, throwing me a stern look. “No one’s hurting anybody. Your grandfather will be fine.”
“The supply boat is a certainty, too,” Leila says.
“It’s—” I try.
“Leila’s right. They’ve never missed a delivery, Ms. Poe,” Antonio says with a sheepish shrug.
“But the moment they fire a single bullet, that boat is going to turn right around,” I say, standing my ground. “And then we’ll be right back here, only from the starting point and without even the advantage of surprise. Right now, they don’t know where we are. There’s a good chance that we can take them.”
“It’s too risky,” Leila says. “Strength in numbers only works if we do manage to free everyone, but what if we don’t? There’s only four of us currently, and we don’t know how many of them are guarding the reception area. They’ve most definitely already upped their surveillance once they realized two of us escaped. Plus, we’re not in the best shape either. We barely found enough to eat yesterday, and the exhaustion is already catching up to us. Theywillcapture us.”
“Aren’t you worried about your friends?” I snap.
At that, Leila’s expression changes. “Of course I’m worriedabout my friends,” she says, barely holding on to her last traces of politeness. Her cheery persona has slipped. “Which is precisely why I want to get the hell off of this island, and get help so they can be freed.”
I fold my arms, and hope that the posture makes me look authoritative and not like a sulky child. Leila doesn’t say anything else, but her posture is just as rigid as mine. There’s no compromise here, not unless we split up. If she’s not backing down, then neither am I.
Zwe’s voice loosens the tautness between us, a referee stepping in the middle of an unmoving game of tug-of-war. “Why don’t we take a vote?”
I’m about to sayYes, why don’t wewith smug triumph until I look at Zwe—and find him staring at me, lips flattened into a tight line, brows marginally sloped inward. My sense of triumph morphs into searing embarrassment as I realize, actually, Zweisn’ton my side.
I know I’m not as outwardly brave or as great at Being a Leader as him and Leila, but I thought my plan and reasoning were pretty solid. Suddenly, however, I feel two inches tall.
“You know what, it’s fine, we’d be wasting time,” I hear myself say, wishing I’d kept my embarrassing mouth shut in the first place.
“Poe—” Zwe starts.
“No, you’re right, we’re in no shape to take on a group of people with guns,” I say with a wave. “Let’s go to the beach. I’m just going to, erm, take a quick bathroom break.”
“Want me to come with?” Leila asks. She points at my ankle. “In case you need help… squatting?” She gives a small smile—a gesture of truce.
“I’m good,” I say. “I can go on my own. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll come with you,” Zwe says.
“I said I’ll be fine on my own.”
“Good for you, but you’re not the only one who has a right to pee around here,” he replies calmly. If he had a reaction to my snippiness, he’s not showing it.
I take a long, deep inhale, locking my anger away into a box that I then shove to the side. I will get mad at him later, probably on the plane home, or maybe even while we’re waiting at the airport boarding gate—but not right now.
“What’s going on?” he asks as soon as we’re out of earshot.
“Nothing,” I reply, aware what a blatant lie it sounds like.
“Why are you mad at me?”
“I’m not mad at you,” I say, while thinking that he surely can’t be this obtuse. “I’m taking this bush.”
He snorts. “Excuse me?”
I walk behind a bush that comes up to about my waist, then gesture at him with two fingers to avert his eyes. “This is my bush. You go find yourself your own pee bush.”
“Good news is, I don’t need a bush to pee.” As I’m pulling down my pants and crouching, I hear the scratch of his zipper also being pulled down. “Haven’t you heard? Perks of having a penis.”
“Which you seem to be using a lot today,” I mutter.
“What does that mean?” he asks.
