DAY 3, 8:15 A.M.
SAN JUAN AND FAJARDO, PUERTO RICO—

It wasn’t until the next morning that I realized we had broken our rule of sticking together, but since we were so used to leaving Killian behind at parties, it hadn’t registered. Yoli and I entered the dining room to find Alma already having her coffee and a bagel. “Why didn’t you wait for us?” Yoli asked.

Alma took her time looking up. “Good morning to you, too, Sunshine. I knocked. Nobody answered.”

“We were still sleeping,” I explained, glancing around the two-deck-tall dining room. Through the gigantic windows, I saw that we had already docked in San Juan, our first port of call.

“Where is she?” Yoli scanned around.

“Who?”

“You know who I’m talking about; don’t play stupid.” You could see that Yoli immediately regretted saying that to a woman already upset about not having her morning cigarette.

Alma ripped off a chunk of bagel and cream cheese with her teeth. “She’s coming.”

“She didn’t come in last night, did she?”

“Why would you say that?”

“Well, because when we last saw her, she was humping Tyler while a room full of people watched.”

“It’s called dancing, Yoli.”

“It’s called deduction, Alma: We all know where that leads if you’re Killian. So did she?”

Silence.

Alma lifted an eyebrow and calmly went on eating. It wasn’t like Yoli to get in her face like that. I didn’t want to be around when the blood was spilled.

The clinking of coffee spoons and saucers chimed throughout the dining hall.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Yoli said, and stomped off to the breakfast bar.

I sat down for a minute. Alma would tell me the truth. “So where is she?”

“When I left, in the bathroom.”

“Then she did come back last night?”

“Yes.”

I blew out a sigh of relief.

“She came in around three.”

“Three?” My mouth hung open. I leaned in. “She stayed with him? She—”

“They stayed out on the deck drinking with two of Tyler’s friends, but nothing happened. I heard her stumble in, and that was that. I just didn’t feel like filling Psycho over there in on the details.”

I looked at Psycho, I mean Yoli, piling scrambled eggs, bacon, and sausage on her plate. “Yeah.” I stood up. “I don’t know what her problem is. Let me go see.”

Alma talked with her mouth full. “She’s wack, that’s what her problem is.”

At the buffet, there was so much food to choose from. I was so busy taking it all in that I didn’t even notice when Yoli came up to me. “You know what?” She huffed, not really wanting an answer. “I don’t care anymore. If she wants to be a slut, let her. I’m over it.”

“Yoli, what is wrong with you? You’re all pissy lately. Is it because of that guy?”

She made a weird sound, like a laugh-hiccup. “What do I care? He’s not even that cute.”

Okay, yeah. It was so obviously about him. “You said he was.”

She did the laugh-hiccup again. “Whatever. I just want to know one thing: Why can’t she give someone else a chance?” She didn’t even wait for me to answer, not that I had any spectacular response for that. She just walked off, leaving the thought hanging there.

I scooped some fresh berries and juicy pineapple off the fruit platter. When I got back to the table, I saw what the cat had dragged in. Killian sat, head in hands, sunglasses over her eyes.

“What happened to you?” I joked.

She stared at me so long, I thought maybe she didn’t recognize me. “Nothing, and before you all start asking, I didn’t do anything with Tyler.”

The way she said his name so casually made me think that she had at least gotten to know him pretty well. “You don’t have to explain anything,” I said to be diplomatic, but of course, she would explain, or else why would we all still be hanging around, waiting for her talk?

Yoli started eating. Nobody spoke. “Uhh …” I said. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

Killian played with a spoon. “He kissed me. That was it.”

I sipped my orange juice. Yoli tucked her curls behind her ears. I could almost hear her think, Of course he did. Why wouldn’t he?

“And just so you know …” She turned to Yoli, but Yoli stared out the window. “It was hard to leave it there.”

Killian sighed and swept off her sunglasses. Her eyes looked a little tired. “From now on, I stay with you guys. I won’t go with him anymore.”

Good call. I wanted to jump up and hug Killian. She could’ve easily decided to say “Screw it” and do whatever she wanted, but she could also listen to her conscience when she wanted.

We ate for a while, talked about Puerto Rico and how the last time I was there, it was with Yoli and her mom when we were twelve. We had visited Yoli’s grandmother before she moved to Texas. Since we had seen most of San Juan on that trip, we decided that we’d do an excursion today, something outside the city.

Suddenly, it was a little too quiet. The girls had stopped talking, and the whiff of aftershave gave it away. I looked over and saw Adverb Guy squatting by me. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” I said, looking back at my fruit. It felt weird to have a guy staring at me so close. Especially one so damn cute.

“You girls having a nice time?” I liked that he didn’t grunt when he spoke like so many guys. “Huh,” “hey,”

“what,” “right …”

“Pretty good,” I said. “And you?”

“Pretty good.” He smiled.

Augh! Lorenzo, who?

“Well …” He tapped the tablecloth and stood. “My name’s Raul. Just thought I’d introduce myself.”

I felt like an idiot for having run into him twice now and still not asking his name. “Fiona,” I said. “And this is Alma, Yoli, and Killian.”

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

I thought for sure his eyes would linger at Killian, but they didn’t. For a fraction of a second, they hovered on Yoli, but mostly they stayed on me. “Nice meeting you. So you going into town?”

“We’re going kayaking,” Killian said. “Want to meet us there?”

I kicked Killian under the table.

She pretended to bend and scratch her foot, whispering next to my ear. “What? He’s cute.”

“Thanks, but I’m already sightseeing with my people over there,” Raul said, glancing back at another table.

“Then we’ll see you back here tonight?” Killian smiled.

“Definitely.” He glanced around, hands in his pockets, just being genuinely nice. I appreciated that he wasn’t staring any of us down or being overflirty. “Well, see you girls later.”

“Bye,” we said.

“Nice to meet you,” I added, even though we went through this already.

He turned around one last time. “Same here.” Big grin.

I grinned back.

He wandered back to his group of five people: four guys and one girl. When he was a safe distance away, we broke into quiet laughs. That’s all it took for things to be back to normal. The way I liked it: no arguing.

Killian smoothed out my hair and played with the ends. “Someone likes you.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe if I was someone else. Maybe if my life was different.”

I looked at Alma. Most of the time, she was quiet, but sometimes I could tell just by looking at her if something was a good idea or not. Something like this whole Raul thing. Wise, brooding Alma.

She held her coffee up to her mouth and slowly sipped.

Behind it, she grinned at me and winked.

We stood near a bus waiting for everyone who had signed up for the excursion to arrive. It was a pleasant surprise to see Santi and Monica with us. We had hardly seen them yesterday, but today they were coming along on the kayak trip. Today they didn’t hold hands, and I wondered about that. How sometimes they seemed thick as thieves and other times a little distant, like they’d just had an argument, one that we’d never, ever have the pleasure of listening in on.

Our tour guide was a guy named José. He talked to us about the bay we were going to and how at night, there were microorganisms there that were bioluminescent. Too bad we wouldn’t be here tonight. That would’ve been pretty to see.

We took an hour bus ride, past a famous lighthouse in Fajardo, to a natural reserve called Las Cabezas de San Juan, which meant “The Heads of St. John” in Spanish. We were going to be kayaking in a mangrove channel similar to the ones I’d visited a dozen times at home in Florida.

Good thing we’d worn our bathing suits. It was hotter than hell, and the sun was beating down on us with no remorse. I hadn’t had a chance to build up a base tan before the trip, so I slathered on some sunscreen; otherwise I’d be extracrispy later on.

I kept looking over at Santi and Monica. They reminded me of Lorenzo and me together. They had met in high school too and seemed to enjoy being together, but there seemed to be some distance between them. Like they had come on this excursion to get some fresh air. Every now and then, Santi would put his hand on Monica’s back to steady her over some rocky ground, and Monica wouldn’t even acknowledge him. But at least he was helping her so she wouldn’t fall. I’m not sure Lorenzo would do that with me. He wasn’t quite as chivalrous. But otherwise, Lorenzo and I didn’t seem so different from them. Would that be us in ten years if we got married?

“You want to ride with me?” Yoli asked, startling me. I didn’t realize we were already picking our kayak partners. José said something about two people and the weight limit being four hundred pounds. I laughed to myself, thinking that Yoli and I together weren’t even two fifty.

“No, I want to be with Yoli.” Killian slid between us. “We need alone time.” She smiled and put her arm around Yoli’s shoulders. Yoli’s eyes grew big. She looked at Alma and me like Help! But it was nice to see Killian trying to reconnect with her.

I remembered Madame Fortuna’s words again. “Bonds will be broken …” Obviously, she didn’t know what she was talking about. Now that the smoke had cleared, I could see that. Yes, we had separated for a little while last night after the club, but things were fine now. Still, I wondered if Killian remembered her words too and was trying to reverse the prediction.

“That makes you and me, mama,” Alma said, handing me a life vest. I liked the rare moments when it was just her and me. It was like having a protective older sister around, except she was four months younger than me.

For some reason, Alma always reminded me of a less inhibited, stronger version of myself. Like me, but five years from now, maybe.

Where there was water, there were life vests. We put them on and carefully stepped into our rocky kayaks. When everyone was ready, we took off, following José, paddling away in our little yellow banana boats. Killian and Yoli followed us close behind. There was no more fighting, no more cattiness. Just trees, birds, and water. The stillness of the channel filled me with a sense of peace. I don’t know how else to describe it. I thought a kayak ride might be boring, since not too many people had signed up for it, but it wasn’t. It was awesome.

Too bad Lorenzo was missing this. I was sort of glad, though. He wouldn’t appreciate kayaking anyway. It was too removed from his DVDs and computer games. I wondered if Raul would like kayaking. I wondered what he saw in me. Why he kept coming to talk to me. He seemed bored with his friends. Was he as nice as he seemed? Or was he really a jerk? Maybe Yoli should go for him to get her mind off Tyler.

As we glided through the water, I heard the calls of different birds and saw them move among the trees. I also saw some monkeys, the curves of their tails hanging just beneath the branches. The water was clear enough that we could see lots of fish underneath the surface. Puerto Rico felt like Florida but more pristine, more exotic. I wanted to capture it somehow.

I remembered my camera and took it out. “Fee!” I heard Killian call and looked over. The freak was standing in the kayak. “Fee, take a picture!” She posed with a leg stretched out behind her. Was she stupid? Yes, of course she was, but why couldn’t I ever get completely used to her?

“Killian, sit down please!” Yoli’s voice was full of panic.

“Señorita, sientese! Sit!” In a split second, José had turned from informative tour guide to authoritative kayak police.

Killian reached out for balance and placed her feet on the boat’s edges. It rocked back and forth violently. “Fee, hurry up and take it!”

“Oye,” Alma yelled. “He said there were alligators, you dork. Get down!”

I was frozen. Behind me, I could hear Santi, Monica, and others calling out to Killian. She listened to nobody. I forced myself to frame the shot. Maybe if I took a photo quickly, she’d stop. When was Killian going to stop doing these things and grow up?

“Cut it out!” Yoli was pissed. She grabbed the edges of the kayak, trying to steady it. “Why did I even get in this thing with you?”

Killian rocked the boat harder. Alma was giggling, but I could tell it was nervous laughter. José kept barking at Killian to have a seat, but she was all, “Check it out… . Woooo… . Yoli!”

“Enough, Killian!” I had to intervene. “You’re scaring her!”

But then Yoli shot me a look.

What? I looked back at her.

“She’s not scaring me; she’s just ruining things,” Yoli said, all defensive.

“Well, excuse me!” I said angrily.

Kill clapped once and did a little dance. “I’m livening things up, not ruining them!” She pushed her foot down hard, and I instinctively brought the camera up, snapping the shot.

“Killian!” Yoli cried, but forget it. Too late.

The yellow boat flipped over as expected, and Yoli, Killian, and the contents of their kayak went flying into the river, making a big ol’ splash. I snapped one picture after another. There was a lot of commotion. Even the monkeys were yelling at us. Stupid humans! Get out of our preserve!

Alma was laughing. I wanted to laugh too, but taking action shots required hand-eye coordination. Plus I wanted to make sure everyone was okay before laughing. Yoli’s smushed curls came out of the water, plastered to her head, just as she sucked in a huge breath of air. She smacked the boat and let out a frustrated scream. I took another picture, not realizing that the strap on her bikini top had slid off her shoulder, showing her possessions from under her life vest.

“Yoli, pull up your strap,” I said.

She looked down and immediately hugged the boat to cover herself. So Yoli was okay, but where was Killian? She hadn’t come up yet. What was she doing, swimming with alligators?

Oh, crap. Alligators!

“Killian?” I cried out. I looked for her everywhere but all I saw was her life vest floating on the water.

“Kill!” Alma yelled. “Shit.” She put down her oar and carefully tried standing.

“No, Alma, or we’re going to flip too,” I said. The boat rocked back and forth. She squatted slowly.

“Esta chiquita, dios mío!” José muttered, starting to take off his shirt. Santi was already diving in the water like an otter. José dove in with him.

A head came up nearby, but it was only Santi’s. He wiped the water off his face and scanned the surface. The feeling I usually got whenever Killian pulled a stunt, the feeling that she would come out okay in the end, started fading. She was taking this too far. “One of you will not come home.”

Damn it.

“Killian!” I yelled harder, as if she would even hear me underwater. But it was all I could do. Everyone was yelling. This wasn’t funny anymore.

All of a sudden, we heard a thrashing noise coming from the opposite side of the river, twenty feet away. We looked over and saw arms flapping, splashing, reaching for shore. Santi and José started swimming toward the commotion like maniacs. Then, a sopping wet girl-woman hoisted herself out of the water and threw herself on a tangled mass of mangrove roots.

Killian cleared the water off her face and snorted some major laughs. “Sorry, Yoli!” she yelled across the water between gulps of air.

I lifted the camera to my face and took another picture. And another. I wanted to put one in a nice frame when I got them printed. So when I’d find myself far from home and all alone in New York City in the fall, I could look back on this afternoon and remember the way Killian looked. Right before we killed her.