“I still can’t believe your friends,” Stephanie said.
“Yeah, I know. A lot of people feel that way.” Patch Flood shook his head and passed her the joint. He added softly: “I think their disappearance almost killed Jonathan.”
They were sitting on the beach in Ses Salines, the Menorcan village where the Ariadne was moored for the night. The beach was long and shallow—it seemed to run the length of the village, and all along it, tourists spilled out of restaurants and bars and went to put their toes in the gentle waves. Ocean Term was docked here for twenty-four hours so that the students could practice sailing. Tomorrow, they were going to the bigger island nearby, Mallorca, for a day trip and then on to Barcelona. It was almost nine o’clock, but there was still light in the sky. The night felt really good to Patch, and he was glad to have escaped the boat. Ever since Barker had chosen Patch as his favorite student, the days had dragged for him.
Stephanie leaned back on her elbows and said, “Thanks for taking a walk with me. I think I really needed to calm down after this afternoon.” When Patch didn’t say anything, she added: “After spending the afternoon in a rowboat rescuing your friends, I really appreciate it.”
“Yo, no worries,” Patch said.
“I mean, when I saw them, I was so happy I could have hugged them! But the whole thing really got me angry, too, you know? I guess that’s why I blew up like that.”
Patch nodded, but he was looking at all the lights coming on in the little white houses across the bay.
“They could have cost me my job, you know,” Stephanie said, a little bit defensively. She was silent for a minute and then she added: “And, of course, if anything had happened to those kids on my watch, I just would never have gotten over it.”
Stephanie was a twenty-three-year-old NYU junior who had taken several semesters off already to do Ocean Term. She was short and tan and she kept her curly, dirty blond hair pulled back from her face in a ponytail. She had big breasts, and they stretched the program’s motto—Be a Student of the World, which was printed on her T-shirt—across her chest in an arc.
“You just seem so much better at this kind of stuff. Like you enjoy hiking and learning about other cultures, and you’re not always looking for the easy out. Like your friend Jonathan seems like he’s so concerned about his clothes that he can never really appreciate his surroundings.”
She passed the joint back to Patch.
“Yeah, Jonathan’s not good at outdoorsy stuff. But he’s good at lots of other things.”
“You really love Jonathan, huh?”
“He’s like the one that holds us all together. Sometimes I don’t think it’s worth it. But other times, it really makes sense and it makes us all really chill. I don’t think I can really explain it.”
Stephanie threw herself back into the white sand and sighed deeply. “I just don’t know how anybody couldn’t love this. Isn’t it all just so beautiful?”
Out in the bay, there were a few boats on midnight fishing trips. Patch wished, in passing, that he was out there. “Yeah,” he agreed, releasing a long exhale, “it is.”
Someone was coming toward them from the party up the beach. Stephanie grabbed the joint and buried it quickly. She took a little bottle out of her purse, which she sprayed in her mouth and then handed to Patch. Patch couldn’t decide whether he should use it or not. The way he’d grown up, the idea of hiding anything seemed sort of alien.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered to Stephanie, “I think it’s Arno.”
Sure enough, Arno was walking up the beach. He was wearing linen pants and no shirt. And he wasn’t alone.
“Then who’s that with him?” Stephanie hissed.
Patch tried to focus his eyes. He wondered for a minute how Stephanie could be so tense, because her pot, well, it was good. The person with Patch was definitely a girl, and she was swigging from a bottle.
“Suki?!” Stephanie exclaimed, sounding more irritated than concerned.
Suki and Arno stopped dead in their tracks. Suki put the bottle behind her.
“Hey, guys,” Arno said, cocking his chin hello to Patch. They all looked at one another suspiciously for a long minute.
“Well, you kids have a good night,” Stephanie said eventually. “Don’t forget to be on the boat by midnight. We go to Mallorca first thing tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
“Sweet dreams,” Suki called out, carefully maneuvering the bottle in front of her as she and Arno moved down to the dark part of the beach.
When they were far enough away, Suki turned to Arno and asked, “Is your friend crushing on teacher?”
“Who cares?” Arno said, putting his arms on her hips and pulling her down into the sand on top of him. “What I’m interested in is who you’re crushing on.”
Suki looked like she hadn’t heard him. “It would be a shame, that’s all,” she said.
Then she turned her face toward Arno and looked at him like she’d never seen him before. She brushed a few strands of hair out of his eyes.
“I should probably tell you that I made out with your friend Mickey last night,” she said, sucking in her breath and widening her eyes sweetly.
Arno cocked a confident eyebrow and let out a dismissive little laugh. “I thought so,” he said dryly. “Doesn’t surprise me.”
“I’m always getting myself in these dumb situations.” Suki giggled. She almost sounded nervous. “I didn’t mean to kiss him, but then I did and … Oh! I hate myself when I’m dippy like this. Do you … hate me?”
“Nah.” Arno sat up and dug his toes into the sand. He could tell that Suki was staring at him, and that she wanted to know what he was thinking. He put his hand on her head and played with her hair.
“I don’t suppose Mickey mentioned Philippa Frady before he kissed you?”