Diana Peterfreund - Rites of Spring (Break)

Poe clenched his jaw so tight, his cheekbones stood out like knife blades. “George,” he said, and almost smiled, though it was the scariest smirk I’d ever seen. “Of course. How stupid of me. Especially given the nature of your ‘reward.’ Tell me, was the big plate smash part of the foreplay or just something to pass the time between bouts of mind-blowing in-tomb sex?”

I gasped. Actually gasped. And from the expression that flashed across Poe’s features, he didn’t believe he’d said that, either. But almost before I had a chance to register the look, it was gone, replaced again by the cold, calculating mask.

Every inch of my face burned, but whether with anger, shame, or sadness, I couldn’t tell. I could hardly breathe, could speak not at all.

“What, no denial?” he said in a mocking voice.

“I wouldn’t dignify it with one,” I whispered, since that was the most I could manage. George was right about Poe. He was a jerk. I swallowed, and for a moment I thought I’d never done so before, it was so hard. “But because you’re about to go into that meeting with who knows what kind of theories, let me at least put your mind to rest about one thing: I never touched those goddamn plates in my life.”

And then I was back in the sunlight, back in the compound, surrounded by friends and fellow knights, but a red haze had settled over my vision. I stumbled blindly past them, shook off their hands and Amy-what’s-wrongs? and Are-you-okays? Through the compound, down the path to the beach, where the afternoon sun was already glinting on the water. But I felt cold. My shoes flopped hard against my soles and eventually filled with sand, but I kept running. Through the trees, where pine needles and bits of bark scraped at my ankles, through a grove of mangroves, where I crushed roots in my rush, sloshing through muck and onto another beach. The one where Poe had given me those swimming lessons. I must not be far from the lagoon. At the edge of the water was a large, bulky shape caught upside down between sand and shore. The skiff.

Eyes still stinging with unshed tears, I waded into the water, fully clothed, up to my thighs and yanked at the boat, tugging until I pulled it all the way back onto the shore. I found one oar stuck in the sand nearby, another flung beyond the tidemark close to the path that led back to camp. So this is where Ben and Demetria had come in the previous night. Not far from the second oar was a pile of material. The ruined sea monster costume, currently festooned with buzzing flies. I kept my distance, picturing last night’s scene in the woods.

I piled the oars inside the boat and stood, breathing hard and unsure of what else I could do. Part of me wished I could cry, just get it out, but tears didn’t come. The burning coal inside my chest refused to erupt into outright sobs.

Why? Why can he hurt me so much? Why do I care?

I wandered back up the beach and dropped onto the sand, leaning back against the roots of a tree that skirted the edge of the woods. I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, but still, no tears.

I’d been the one saying over and over that I couldn’t take any of this seriously. It shouldn’t bother me in the slightest that he thought I was sleeping with George. It should even work to my benefit—proof indeed that this was nothing more than a Spring Break fling.

And yet, Jesus Christ, it hurt. Not that he figured I’d broken the plates—that would be kind of cool, actually—but that I’d do it behind his back, with another man. After we’d joked about it repeatedly. It was our thing. Like Life Savers.

Our thing! Damn, Amy, get a grip. Jamie Orcutt was a liar, a manipulator, and a jerk. And I didn’t really know anything about him. I didn’t trust him; he didn’t trust me. Malcolm had been right. It was stupid for us to think of getting involved, given our long-standing mutual dislike. At least with George, we’d always been friendly. Now there was a guy you could have a casual affair with.

Poe wasn’t fling material.

I leaned my head against the wood and took several long, deep breaths, but the pain in my chest didn’t diminish one iota.

Crap. At this rate, I was going to need another entire Spring Break to get over the heartbreak of this one.

After a while I saw a figure making his way up the beach, but due to the angle of the sun, I couldn’t see him until he’d gotten close enough to speak.

“Hey,” Darren said. “What are you doing out here all alone?”

“Just thinking,” I said, hoping my eyes didn’t look too puffy.

He nodded. “Mind if I join you?”

Yes, I thought, but then I remembered the time I’d ditched him to go off hiking with Poe. Remembered what he was dealing with at home. Thought that maybe his little sister wasn’t the only one missing their housekeeper.

“Sure,” I said, and scooted over to give him room to sit between the roots.

He sat and pulled off his backpack. “Bit of drama back at the camp, huh?” He yanked out a Tupperware container filled with a few more of those cupcakes from lunch and a bottle of electric blue sports drink.

“You know I can’t talk about that,” I said with a rueful smile.

He rolled his eyes. “Please. No one was being really quiet about it.”

“True,” I said. I pointed at the sweets. “Gonna share those?” He held the container out to me and I took one. “Thanks. I didn’t get a chance to have dessert at lunch.” I took a big bite. Wow, it was sweet. He uncapped his drink bottle. “Are you going for a blue theme today?” I asked him, pointing at the energy drink.

He shrugged. “Something like that. Maybe I’ll go to Eli after all.”

I laughed and kept munching the cupcake. It really was too sugary and rich for my taste, but I couldn’t very well not finish it after he’d shared with me. “So, how have you been liking The Count of Monte Cristo ?”

“Pretty good. Drink?” I nodded and took the bottle. The cloying taste had made me thirsty. “Makes me want to find a buried treasure, that’s for sure.”

“I know, can you imagine?” I took a huge swig.

“What would you do with a treasure like that?”

“Just what the count did,” I said. “Take revenge on anyone who ever wronged me.” Maybe I’d start with Poe. Or Felicity.

“Oh, you don’t need a treasure to do that,” Darren said.

I giggled. “Experienced in the ways of revenge, are you?”

He smiled. “I try.” We talked about the book for a few minutes more. Darren was a smart cookie. His grasp of literature was pretty well developed for a kid in the early years of high school.

Even the energy drink was too sweet. What I wouldn’t give for some regular water. It was like the more I drank, the thirstier I got. “You know,” I said, “if you’re going to be trapped somewhere, there are worse places than an island in Florida.” Oh, wow. Had I said that out loud?

“Oh, yeah?” Darren said. “Name one.”

“Connecticut in February’s pretty sucky.”

“Anyplace is pretty sucky when you live with two parents who don’t speak to you about what’s going on.”

I stared at him. It was, quite possibly, the most vulnerable statement he’d ever made to me. “Darren, I’m so sorry. I know I shouldn’t be getting involved, but if you need to—”

He looked away. “Forget it,” he said. “Is that the boat from the skit?”

“Yeah, it must be where Ben and Demetria pulled it up last night.”

“You didn’t get sick, though,” Darren said, abruptly.

I shook my head. “How do you know that?”

He smiled again. “I know all kinds of secrets.”

“Like what?” I laughed again. This kid could actually be kind of charming if he tried.