“I’m Plum Winter,” Plum said, at last following her friends’ lead and sticking out a hand first to Cici, then to the pale redhead with the flowing scarf skirt.
“Nice to meet you!” Cici said, giving a glowing smile to Plum.
“I’m almost done, I swear, I’m sorry,” the redhead said. Instead of shaking Plum’s hand, she winced another apology, glancing up and back down to the phone in her hand so quickly that if Plum hadn’t been looking right at her, she would have missed the hazel flash of her eyes.
“I’m Jude,” the cute boy said. He shook everyone’s hands. “Jude Romeo,” he said, smiling in what looked like mild embarrassment at his perfect last name.
“Oh my God, that’s adorable.” Sofia gave Jude a look like she’d just found a puppy.
“It’s silly,” Jude said. “Too much.” He gave his head a little shake. The sun-streaked blond forelock fell across his eyes. “Did you say Winter?” Jude asked, turning back to Plum.
“Yes, Plum Winter.”
Plum was looking forward to what was coming next. As much as she missed her older sister, and as much as she often felt like an outsider looking in on Peach’s Instagram-perfect life . . .
She really did love the rush when people realized Peach was her sister.
Jude shook his forelock aside so he could look at her better.
“Hey! You’re Peach Winter’s sister!” he said. “I’ve seen her share your picture!”
Peach would sometimes do flashback posts to “when life was easier, quieter, but we still had the whole world . . .” or she’d post a huggy animation with the caption “Happy Sister Day!” And even on Plum’s last birthday, instead of calling or sending a text, Peach posted a picture of the two of them: “Happy birthday to my kid sister!”
It wasn’t as nice as talking to her, but hundreds of thousands of strangers had clicked love.
“Yes,” Plum replied.
“Is Peach coming?” Cici asked eagerly, leaning forward to look around Sofia at Plum.
The boat started to pitch more dramatically as they left the shelter of the large bay and motored out into the open ocean.
“Whoa,” Marlowe murmured, falling onto Plum slightly. Plum helped her friend steady herself.
“I think so?” Plum stalled. Perhaps it would be best to act like Peach had sent her to the festival and that there was a chance Peach would come later. “I mean, she wanted us to come and, uh, meet her here.”
Sofia gave Plum a little look, indecipherable if you hadn’t known her since middle school. But Plum could read it as easily as if it were the smoke trails of a skywriter.
STOP LYING.
But it wasn’t Sofia who had urged her friends to come. Who promised that they’d get into the festival, have the whole adventure with famous people, and that it would happen no problem, easy-peasy rice and cheesy.
Plum looked away from Sofia.
“Yes,” she lied. “She’s coming later on. You know how it is. Busy-busy!”
The last two words were a singsong that made Plum wince. So fake.
Jude Romeo didn’t seem to notice. In fact, he looked so transported with delight that Plum almost felt bad the moment the lie left her lips
“That’s so cool!” Jude’s smile was lottery-winner wide. “Maybe I can get a selfie with her!”
He said it with the same tone of Maybe we’ll be friends!
“Yeah!” Plum’s smile back felt like a mask.
The boat fell down the trough of another wave.
“Oh,” Marlowe groaned. A new tightness pulled her forehead into a frown.
“Look at the horizon in front of us,” Plum told her. “It’s supposed to help.”
Plum never got motion sickness, but Marlowe sure did. When they went to the playground in the nearby state park to hang out at night, Marlowe wouldn’t even sit on the merry-go-round.
The boat reared up the top of another wave, the highest one yet. Marlowe sat ramrod straight, her knuckles gripped white around the railing behind them.
“I’m Shelley Moon!” the redhead across from Sofia said, finally looking up from her phone. “Sorry, I had to finish setting up some posts.” Shelley held up her phone, almost like it was a star pupil. “I have some private clients I do readings for, and I don’t want to have to worry about that once we get to the island.”
“It’s no problem,” Plum said.
“You do tarot readings?” Sofia asked.
“Yes, and, like, color channeling and auras. I mainly do horoscopes.” Shelley tipped her chin down, like she was both shy and proud of this specialty.
Sofia let out a little squeal of delight. It morphed into a squawk as the small boat skidded alarmingly down another wave.
Marlowe moaned, closing her eyes.
Jude looked sympathetic. He turned toward the captain at the helm. “Is it far to the island?”
The captain yelled something back, but the wind whipped his words away. The captain reached for something under his feet.
His hand came up, holding the lip of a wide blue bucket.
“Dear baby Jesus,” Marlowe chanted in dismay.