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Reckless Girls(54)

Author:Rachel Hawkins

I’m not sure how to respond to that. Why would they lie about something so minor?

“We met in a counseling group,” she goes on, then looks over at me. “Grief counseling. Brittany’s whole family was killed in a drunk driving accident. Mom, dad, little brother. All … three of them.”

Her voice goes tight, chin wobbling a bit before she clears her throat and goes on. “And I’d lost my boyfriend.”

“Oh,” I say. Suddenly her tears when she was talking about him that first day make more sense.

“We tell people the college story because … well, we don’t want to be those girls, you know? The sad, tragic ones. The ones who needed grief counseling.”

Now that I can completely understand. I’ve spent the past few years trying not to be that girl.

“Anyway,” she goes on, waving a hand. “I just … figured you should know all that. I figured you’d get it.”

“I do,” I say, and suddenly all my catty thoughts about Amma, that twisting in my stomach when I’d see her with Nico, fills me with shame.

Stepping forward, I lay a hand on her arm. “And I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks. It’s been … awful, but we’re here now. And Brittany’s happy. Traveling like this was her idea, her way of using the money from insurance and the settlement to do something she thought her family would’ve appreciated. They were big on experiences, getting out there, living life.”

“And your boyfriend,” I add. “It’s what he wanted to do, too, right? So, you’re doing a good thing, too.”

She nods, but the movement is jerky. “Right. Okay, well, that’s probably enough sharing and caring for today. I may devote the rest of the morning to getting day drunk.”

“Never a bad idea.”

She turns to go, but then stops, pointing at something in the trees. “Wait, what the fuck is that?”

It takes me a second to see what she’s staring at, but then I make out a shape, hanging in the branches, something that’s not just a vine curling in on itself.

I only take a couple of steps into the trees, but it’s like that first day we went exploring—everything immediately seems quieter, the air instantly thicker, even though I can still see Amma just behind me, the sea and sky beyond her.

There is a rope hanging from the tree. Skinny, worn rope that feels scratchy in my hand when I reach out and touch it, following the loop it makes up to a knot.

I tug at the dangling bit of the rope, and the loop hanging from the branch tightens like a noose.

It’s some kind of trap, probably to catch birds, maybe even the odd lizard.

Robbie’s buddy.

Robbie had said his friend was sure that someone had still been living on the island, subsisting off the jungle and what supplies they picked up on sails. Was this trap left over from that guy, whoever he was?

Or, I wondered, my eyes scanning the darkness of the jungle beyond, was it new?

NINETEEN

The next day, we all go to the pool Eliza brought me to.

None of us mention Robbie or the trap I’d found yesterday, but I know we’re all thinking about it. It’s nice to do something different, to be distracted by a change of scenery.

Now, I sit with Brittany on the edge of the pool, watching Nico and Amma swim. Jake and Eliza are sharing their own bit of sand, Eliza leaning back between his legs.

“What do you think it would be like to live here?” Brittany says. “I mean, yes, it’s paradise and all, but wouldn’t it get boring after a while? Lonely? Besides, how many sunsets can you really look at?”

That’s how I’d started to feel in Maui, but I wasn’t sure it was how I would feel here. In Maui, there had been responsibilities and jobs, real life intruding every day. Here?

Here you were just … free.

“I’d definitely get bored,” Brittany says now. “I know that sounds entitled, but it’s like … this is a place you come to forget, you know? Or disappear.” Another shake of her head, dark hair spilling over her shoulders. “And I’m not sure I want to do either of those things—not forever, at least.”

“Me, neither,” I say, but I’m not sure if I actually mean it.

Brittany looks back over at me, but before she can say anything else, there’s a shriek from the pool.

Amma is hanging upside down over Nico’s shoulder, her skin pale against his bronzed chest, her bikini bottom riding precariously low as Nico ducks underneath the water again, pulling her with him. I can feel Brittany’s eyes on me as we watch them horse around.

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