The smells wake me up. Fried, eggy bread, maple syrup—the good stuff, not the kind that’s more sugar than syrup. At first, I think I’m dreaming of my favorite breakfast, so I snuggle deeper into the nylon bedroll. But then, my eyes pop open.
Those scents aren’t the hazy, fleeting senses of a dream. My nose tingles; my mouth waters. This is vivid, present, real. So, either Elizabeth’s been creating smells again—or Xander’s restocked our food rations overnight.
I jump up, brushing off my skin in case of any sand. Luckily, the sleeping bag seems to have done its job, and I don’t find a single grain. No Bodin across from me. All that’s left of him is a big, comma-like indentation in the sand.
The other castaways begin rousing. Lola shrieks and runs to the banquet table. “Shrimp and grits. My absolute fav. Thank you, thank you, Preston, for being a complete jerk.”
A waterfall of flowers drifts from her mouth, along with an errant worm, as though her ability doesn’t know what to make of the backhanded compliment.
I walk toward the table, too, at a much slower pace. Sure enough, the banquet table has been refreshed. I dish up a bowl of jok, or congee, and bring it over to Mama.
“Oh, nam phung, you shouldn’t have,” Mama says tiredly. She’s the only castaway yet to get up, although she is wide awake. I help her to a seated position, rolling up her sleeping bag and tucking it behind her to prop her up.
She’s…weaker than yesterday. Her eyes shine out at me, but her lips don’t curve. Is she still exhausted? Too sickly? Will she ever reach 121 smiles?
Shakily, I count out her morning pills from the fanny pack that’s always at her side. All of a sudden, the scents of the banquet make me want to throw up. Mama only has one more day of pills left.
“How was your night?” Mama asks. “I meant to stay awake in case you needed me, but I must’ve drifted off.” She shakes her head, disgusted. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“You’re sick,” I say, my heart cracking. I want to dig a hole, right in this sand, so that I can stick my head in it and hide forever from the obvious. But I lick my lips and push forward. “You need to rest as much as you can. Don’t waste energy worrying about me. I’m fine, Mama. I promise. My OCD has barely bothered me since we woke up on this island. I guess I’ve been too preoccupied with surviving.”
Not true. While OCD is a strange disorder—and it tends to abate when my mind is preoccupied with another ailment, such as a sprained ankle or the flu—it has clearly continued to infiltrate my mind. Last night was a case in point. But I don’t need to tell Mama that.
“Thank you, Alaia. You’re my baby. You know that?” She spoons some jok into her mouth, just two or three broken grains of rice, really. It hardly counts as sustenance, but at least she’s trying, even if it’s only for my benefit.
“And you’re my Mama,” I respond.
I join the others at the buffet. Bodin has reappeared, his hair tousled and his eyelids heavy. He gives me a sleepy, what-up head nod, and my insides sizzle, although I don’t know why. Mateo and I both reach for the strawberries, and gentleman that he is, he lets me go first. And Preston, whose mouth remains normal, is carefully cutting up his eggs Benedict and eating them daintily.
I take my first bite of French toast. It’s rich and syrupy and perfect, but I can’t savor it. Because something’s wrong, and it’s been wrong ever since I woke up this morning.
And I’m just now realizing it.
I march over to Bodin and beckon him to follow me to the center of the beach, away from the others.
“Why, Alaia, I can’t wait to get my hands on you, too, but everyone’s watching, including your mom,” he jokes.
“Cameras,” I say, ignoring him. “They’re watching our every move.”
Bodin blinks. “Huh?”
“Xander’s watching us, right? It could be cameras. It could be his employees. It could be a favorite perch in a tree. How on earth are we going to attempt to cross the mountain range without them noticing?”
“I’ve already thought of that.” He straightens, probably because of the crick in his neck from talking to me. “I haven’t seen any cameras, have you? And we’ve pretty much tossed this area upside-down in building our shelters.”
I nod in agreement.
“There’s no way he’s got enough people to monitor this entire island,” Bodin continues. “And I really don’t think he expects us to venture far from camp. That’s why he plies us with our favorite foods, because he thinks it’ll keep us trapped here, like a bunch of stray dogs. A small group of us just needs to slip away. It’ll be hours before they notice us missing, and maybe by then, we’ll have reached the other side.”
I frown. “I don’t like it. We’re counting on a whole lot of assumptions here.”
“That’s all we’ve got,” he says grimly. His eyes glint, no longer sleepy but focused and determined. “It’s not the most foolproof plan ever, but it’s our only plan. They’ll either apprehend us—or they won’t. In the worst-case scenario, we’ll be right back where we started.”
I nod reluctantly. A small chance is better than none, and if a glimmer of hope exists that Mama can find peace before she dies, I’ll take the risk, every time.
…
“A small group is not five people out of twelve!” Eduardo exclaims a short while later. “It’s just math, people. That’s nearly half. You don’t think Xander will notice that half of us are missing?”
“It’s just the way it works out,” Rae says, her hands on her hips once more. The vibrant greens, pinks, and teals of her tattoos shimmer in the sunlight. Upon closer examination, a naga snakes down one arm, while vines holding lotus flowers climb up the other. Stunning artwork, really. “Bodin is our best choice to navigate this environment. Sylvie’s our best climber. I need to keep an eye on things, and there’s no way in hell I’m leaving Mateo here with my sister—”
“You act like I’ve never kissed anyone before,” Lola grumbles.
Mateo reddens. “Listen, I would never treat your sister with disrespect—”
“If we’re about to perish at Xander’s hands?” Lola interjects. “Hell, yes, we’d be making the most of our last moments on Earth.” Several flowers drift out of her mouth. “See, even my talent agrees.”
Khun Anita pretends to cover Kit’s ears. He flushes and knocks away her hands while Elizabeth doubles up in laughter.
“And I haven’t even mentioned our resident princess,” Rae continues as if no one else has spoken, “who insists on coming, even though no one is sure why.”
She’s talking about me, of course. I’m not the most obvious choice to traverse the mountain—I know that. I’m not particularly athletic, and I’ve never been the outdoorsy type. I’m deathly afraid of bugs, so I may very well be more of a hindrance than a help. But none of that matters. Mama’s my responsibility. I will not sit around while others do the hard work of saving her.
As embarrassing as it is to admit, that’s what I’ve been doing all of my life. I may not be the helpless princess that Rae believes I am…but her accusation holds a glimmer of truth. Which means it’s time to change. I just hope my newfound strength isn’t too late.
“It will take all five of us to figure out a way around that vertical wall,” Bodin says firmly, shutting down any further arguments. “The rest of you will just have to be extra active so they don’t notice for a few hours.”
Kit nods solemnly. “Not a problem, bro. Nani says I have the energy of three teenage boys—”
“Bro,” Sylvie interjects, but I know it’s just her way of saying goodbye to him.
I give Mama a final tearful hug, and then we set off, our backpacks stuffed with the supplies we think we’ll need. Bodin leads the way, heading west, swatting the bushes ahead with a long stick to scare any wild animals away. There isn’t any wildlife near our beach—other than the creature I saw—but that doesn’t mean they won’t pop up as we get farther from camp. Bodin remembers the other side of the island teeming with life—birds, monkeys, tons of fish.
I strain my ears, but I don’t detect any squeaks or chirps. Just the heavy plodding of our feet as we move deeper into the woods. “Who’s been rock climbing before?” Sylvie asks, breaking the group’s silence.
Rae whips her head around, her bleached hair subdued by the shadows. “Shhh!”
“Oh, please. We’re already making so much noise. A little conversation can’t hurt.” Sylvie dismisses Rae’s admonition with a confidence that I can’t help but envy.
“I’ve climbed all the big ones,” she continues. Her toned calves flash in front of me, as though confirming her statement. “Yosemite National Park; Kalymnos, Greece; Dolomites, Italy.”
“Is there anything you don’t do?” I ask admiringly.
“The more extreme the sport, the more likely it is that I’ve tried it,” Sylvie answers cheerfully.
“I go to the climbing gym. I even have my belay license,” Mateo says, coming to stand next to me. He pushes a hand through his dark hair, making it stand up in spikes. It’s stiff with what I assume to be salt water, rather than the hair products we are sadly without. “So if you need a helping hand—literally—I’m here.”
I smile at him gratefully. No wonder Lola is so taken with him. He’s genuinely a good guy.
We push deeper into the woods, and soon enough, we’re doing more clambering than walking, as the terrain becomes steeper and more slippery. It rises at a forty-five-degree angle and is covered in undergrowth or exposed tree roots. One wrong step, and you could sprain an ankle, or worse, tumble down the incline.
“I’ve got lead,” Sylvie announces. She practically scampers up the slope, as though she were a mountain goat in a previous life.
I bite my lip and move, oh, about ten times slower, as I pick and choose my next step. I’ve travelled through these woods before, when we first ran after the guards, but we’re taking an entirely different trail in an entirely different direction today—one that is way more treacherous. I’m just contemplating whether a smoothish rock or a mess of roots is sturdier when Sylvie yelps. Her arms flail wildly, and she slides down several feet and crashes into Bodin.
He catches her, stopping her fall before she knocks down the rest of us. His arms are wrapped all the way around her waist, and they hold their position, panting and leaning against each other for support.
A twinge of something goes through me. I’m not jealous—I don’t think. Sylvie has a girlfriend, and the purpose of Bodin’s embrace is clearly to prevent an accident. And yet, seeing him making close contact with another somehow makes me want to experience that same contact. Which is beyond weird. After a minute, they untangle their limbs and straighten up.
“This terrain isn’t the same as what I expected.” Bodin frowns, his words shadowed with doubt. “Maybe…I made a mistake.”
“You were wrong about the terrain, or you were wrong about this island?” Rae snaps. You would think she’d have learned from Preston that taking a nasty tone isn’t wise. “Maybe you’ve never been here at all. Maybe that was just wishful thinking, or I don’t know, just a really bad sense of geography.”
Yikes—now she’s getting personal.
“How would you know if it’s the same island, anyhow?” Rae continues, hip jutted out. “Don’t they all look the same? Same sand, same vegetation, same freaking view, since all we can see is water for miles on end.”
“It’s the same island,” Bodin insists, as though her skepticism is shoring up his confidence. “I think.”
“Look—we’re here now,” Mateo says. “Whether or not this is the same island, it doesn’t hurt to keep going.”
“Fine,” Rae says shortly. “But we’d better ask Alaia if she wants to call it quits. I’m sure one of you boys would fall all over yourselves to escort the princess home.”
I suck in air sharply. Why does she have to bring me into this conversation? I haven’t said a single word.
“I haven’t complained once,” I point out. “Besides, for someone who doesn’t want to play Xander’s game, you sure are getting emotional.”
Where this bravado comes from, I have no idea, but I decide to revel in it, because it has wiped the smirk right off Rae’s face.
“Are you sure, Alaia?” Bodin asks. “This isn’t the terrain that I expected. It could get ugly up there.”
Him, too? Now that hits directly, in a way that Rae’s put-down never could. I’d hoped he had more belief in me than that.
“I said I’m staying,” I repeat, annoyed.
“She’s got this,” Mateo says encouragingly.
Sylvie nods. “Alaia’s a tough one.”
I shoot her a grateful look and give Mateo an even bigger smile.
He extends his hand, offering me help up the incline. I hesitate, but my OCD doesn’t surge to the surface. It doesn’t tell me that his hand is dirty. It doesn’t predict that touching him will lead to bad things.
Maybe it’s because the contact is functional, rather than incidental, or maybe it’s just because Mateo radiates warmth.
“Let’s get going, then,” Bodin says gruffly. His eyes are focused directly on Mateo—or more specifically on the hand that pulled me up the terrain.
And in his gaze I see a hint of sadness that I don’t understand. If he were jealous, I’d get it. That’s what I kinda, sorta felt when his arms were around Sylvie. But sadness? Why?
I shake my head, pushing the thoughts away. The lack of nutrition is probably making me overthink and overanalyze, even more than usual.
Bodin turns and nods at Sylvie to take the lead. My face heats as we continue up the mountainside. I’m so silly. Bodin and I didn’t kiss last night. We didn’t spend the night in each other’s arms.
All we did was lie next to each other, five feet apart, as the fire burned behind us—or rather, behind me. It didn’t escape my notice that he gave me the spot closer to the flame.
But that was just…polite. The manners of a good guy. It didn’t mean that we had any kind of special connection, and so he wouldn’t be looking at me in any sort of way.
I’m so confused. I’ve never understood boys, and I’m not about to try now when I should be focused on surviving.
And then another thought creeps into my mind. Mateo offered me his hand, and I accepted it with my right hand, leaving my left one lonely.
A cold river fills my veins as once again the universe shifts and I have to rebalance it.
I drop back to where Mateo is climbing. I’ve become good at this. It’s quite awkward to simply just touch someone for no reason, so you need a good excuse. Something believable and innocent enough that the person will forget it the next moment.
“Thanks for helping me out back there,” I say casually.
“No problem,” he responds.
“Yeah, I’ve never really climbed before,” I admit with a small smile.
“These aren’t the best of circumstances, but climbing can be quite fun when you’re not doing it to save your life,” he says.
I pretend to giggle to keep the mood light, and that’s when I go in for the kill.
“Oh, you have something on your shoulder,” I say. Gently, I swat his shoulder with my left hand, thereby restoring the order inside of me.
“Thanks,” is all he says. We start climbing again, and pretty soon, he outpaces me.
When I next glance up, the mountain rises…higher…and higher…and higher. The height spooks me beyond belief. The never-ending expanse of jagged gray stone intimidates me to my very core, but it’s even worse when I climb up the rest of the slope to join my fellow castaways.
We’ve hit another wall.