Burned (14 page)

They watched the water in awe for a few minutes. But as Emily stared at the abyss, her happy mood began to shift. Not even a year ago, Tabitha had been washed away in this very same sea. Fish just like these had swum around her body impassively, witnessing it wasting away. Seaweed had lodged in her hair and ears. The salty water had eroded her slowly, meticulously, until only bones were left.

A strange noise gurgled from the back of her throat. Jordan turned. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Emily managed.

Jordan inched closer, her green eyes wide. “No, you’re not. Are you freaked that we took this boat?”

Emily wrapped her arms across her chest, suddenly cold.
I’m freaked about everything
, she wanted to say. But if she opened her mouth, she feared all her secrets would spill out in a matter of minutes. She couldn’t tell Jordan about Tabitha. It was too dangerous.

“I’m glad we’re out here,” she finally managed. “I needed to do this. Get away from my life.”

Jordan cocked her head. “Things at home are really that bad, huh?”

Emily nodded, feeling a lump in her throat.

“Your parents?” Jordan guessed. “You said they didn’t want you around.”

Tears pricked Emily’s eyes, and she nodded again. “They hate me.”

“What
happened
, exactly?”

Emily eyed her, then took a deep breath. This was one secret she
could
share. “They found out I had a baby last summer. When I told them last week, they didn’t just freak—they shut down.”

Jordan blinked slowly. “You had a
baby
?”

Emily winced at Jordan’s shocked tone of voice. She was probably disgusted. But then she looked at Jordan’s face. It was kind and accepting.
Go on
, her expression seemed to say.
I’m listening. I’ll like you anyway
.

It all spilled out of her. The part about Gayle. Even reneging on the offer and leaving the baby on the Bakers’ doorstep. “After Isaac found out, I just thought it was time for my parents to know,” she said. “But now it’s like I’m no longer part of the family. They’ve been pissed at me before, but this is in a totally different league. I know I should hate them, but I miss them so much.”

She stared down at the fish floating by, tears in her eyes. Everything she said was painfully true. She’d been through a lot with her family, but she thought they were all beginning to understand one another. What she’d done had ruined things between them for good.

Jordan moved closer and touched Emily’s hand. “You are so, so brave,” she said quietly. “I couldn’t do what you did. Not any of it.”

Emily blinked away tears. “It was really, really hard.”

“What was it like?” Jordan’s eyes were wide. “To be pregnant, I mean. To give birth. To go through something so …
earth-shattering
. I can’t imagine it.”

“Scary,” Emily answered. “But also amazing. My favorite part was feeling her kick. I would lie down at night and put my hand on my belly and just stay that way for hours. At first, it’s like this little flutter inside of you. But then, as she got bigger, the kicks were stronger. It was kind of mind-blowing.”

“Wow,” Jordan whispered.

Tears welled in her eyes, and she glanced at Jordan gratefully. “No one ever asked me that, you know. It was always about what I’d done wrong or what a horrible person I was.”

“You’re not horrible,” Jordan said. “You’re incredible.”

Emily peeked at Jordan bashfully. “I think you’re incredible, too,” she whispered.

Jordan placed one finger on Emily’s knee. Instead of pulling away a split second later, she let it remain there. Emily stared at Jordan’s pink, moon-shaped nail, then slid closer. Her heart started to pound. Before she knew it, their lips were touching. Emily’s nose filled with the heady aroma of jasmine perfume. She ran her fingers up and down Jordan’s bare arms. Her skin was as soft as petals.

They pressed close together, inhaling each other, and when they broke away, they stared into each other’s eyes.

“Yay,” Jordan whispered giddily. “I was hoping that would happen.”

“Yay for
me
,” Emily insisted, curling in Jordan’s lap and staring at the clouds.

“Yay for
us
,” Jordan corrected. And then she took off the captain’s hat, placed it on Emily’s head, and opened her arms again.

“Here you are!” A Latin waitress plopped down a large tray in front of Spencer and Reefer. “The six ceviche tasting menu!
¡Buen apetito!
”

As she strode away, shaking her ample hips, Spencer stared down at the six small bowls. “I can’t believe you talked me into this. I’ve been to the Caribbean seventeen times, and I’ve managed to avoid ceviche until now.”

“Aw, a ceviche virgin!” Reefer pushed a fork at her. “C’mon. You have to try some. You’ll love it.”

Spencer looked up, stalling. It was Thursday night, and they were at an outdoor Latin restaurant in Old San Juan. Palm trees surrounded them, and every table bore a flickering votive candle and a vase of tropical flowers. A band played upbeat, wild music, and several couples were salsa-dancing near the stage. To add to the sexy vibe, a blue infinity pool rippled off in the distance. Spencer had already seen two couples strip down to bathing suits and dive into the pool as an alternative to dessert.

Before their dive that morning, the dive class had watched a film about Jacques Cousteau. For the rest of the afternoon, Spencer had prepared for their dinner out. Now her blond hair spilled down her back, her skin glowed from a body facial, and her nails had been painted a shade of red called Vixen. She’d pored through her and Kirsten’s cruise wear until she’d decided on a turquoise strapless linen dress that screamed
I’m gorgeous, but I don’t try very hard
. As soon as Reefer had seen the dress, he’d remarked that it was his favorite color.

She’d chosen this restaurant, too, clicking through San Juan nightlife websites and picking the place that seemed the most romantic. Other kids from the boat had the same idea: In the corner were two couples from Tate. Across the way, Lanie Iler and Mason Byers snacked on fritters. And Naomi Zeigler had just sat down with a bunch of girls from Rosewood Day, shooting Spencer a nasty look when she spotted her and Reefer together. Spencer gritted her teeth at Naomi’s clonelike turquoise dress. What, had Naomi spied on her while she was getting ready?

Then again,
Spencer
was the one on the date with Reefer, wasn’t she?

But on the heels of that dart of triumph came a stab of dread. Perhaps Naomi had followed her here because she was A.

Swallowing her worry, she took the fork from Reefer and daintily tried a bit of ceviche. A sharp, acidic flavor hit her first. Then she tasted something cool and mild. “It’s okay,” she decided.

“Have the one with the chilis.” Reefer pushed another bowl closer. “It’s amazing when you make it with real chilis, not the dried kind. I was on a ceviche kick for a while a few years ago. I’m trying to remember my favorite recipe …” He tapped on his iPhone, tilting it toward Spencer.
REEFER’S RECIPES FROM A TO Z
, read the screen. Ceviche, naturally, was filed under
C
.

Spencer snickered. “You’re so organized.”

Reefer covered the screen with his hand, looking embarrassed. But Spencer wasn’t surprised. He kept his pot supply in little individual, carefully labeled drawers. Earlier, when he’d opened his wallet for his fake ID, his cards were alphabetized, an AAA membership at the front, a business card for Justin Zeis, Personal Trainer, in the back.

“I like everything in its place,” he admitted. “I can’t stand it when things are messy.” He bit into a chip. “You can say it. I’m a dork.”

Spencer leaned forward on her elbows. “If you’re dorky, then so am I. All of the money in my wallet has to be in order according to the serial number on the front of the bills. If it’s out of order, I panic.”

Reefer’s eyebrows rose. “How long have you been doing that?”

“Since my first allowance. And before that, I arranged my bath toys along the side of the tub by height and color.”

Reefer grinned. “I used to sort my LEGOs by size and theme. And I insisted on ironing my school clothes myself—I hated how my mom did it.”

“I still iron my jeans sometimes,” Spencer admitted, then felt a little self-conscious for saying so.

Reefer chuckled. “When I first got into botany, my mom gave me a spice rack to organize my seeds. I woke up several times a night to check to make sure no one had put them in a different order.”

Spencer grabbed a chip and popped it in her mouth. “I begged my father to let me do his filing. He thought there was something wrong with me.”

“You would have been such an asset to the Ivy Eating Club,” Reefer joked. “A perfect secretary.”

“Too bad that’ll never happen.” Spencer stared morosely at the salt on the rim of her margarita glass. She’d been so desperate to get into Ivy, but after the pot-brownie fiasco, it was clear that would never happen.

When she felt Reefer’s large, warm hand cover hers, she looked up in surprise. “You’ll have way more fun at Princeton without being part of an eating club, you know,” he said softly. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“You will?” Spencer dared a smile.

“Of course. We’re going to have an amazing time. I know tons of fun things to do—things that are much cooler than what those Ivy people are into.”

Spencer’s heart thumped. He’d said
we
. Like they were going to be a couple. Maybe even an
exclusive
couple.

A trumpet blared in her ear, and she turned. The jazz band stood next to their table for a private serenade. The guitarist strummed a slow rhythm. The drummer shook a maraca. The singer launched into song. Even though the lyrics were in Spanish, Spencer recognized the melody as “I Only Have Eyes for You.”

“You’ve got a beautiful girlfriend, man,” the singer said in a broken Spanish accent between verses.

“I know,” Reefer said, glancing at Spencer cautiously, as if he’d said too much. Spencer smiled giddily.
Girlfriend?
She tried it on like it was a dress, and it felt pretty damn good. She smiled at him and squeezed his hand.

“Want a picture?” A waitress materialized with a Polaroid camera. Spencer and Reefer leaned close and smiled. The flash went off, and the device spat out a photograph. Spencer took it from the waitress and laid it on the table to dry.

Reefer stood and offered his hand. “Want to dance?”

“Yes,” Spencer breathed.

They chose a spot on the dance floor close to the pool, and Reefer wrapped his arms around her.

“I never took you as the dancing type,” she murmured as they swayed.

Reefer made a
tsk
noise with his tongue. “You should know by now that looks can be deceiving. I like to dance—especially if it’s with the right person.”

Spencer’s heart thudded as he leaned closer to her until his nose grazed her cheek. She swallowed nervously, then tipped toward him, too. The trumpeter let out a series of notes as their lips touched. Spencer shut her eyes and tasted lime and ceviche and salt. Tingles shot through her body.

They pulled away and grinned. A muscle twitched by Reefer’s mouth. But then, a half-second later, his gaze focused on someone behind Spencer.

“Mind if I cut in?”

Naomi’s angular face swam into view. She stared sweetly at Reefer, her head cocked and her lashes fluttering.

Spencer stiffened, wanting to say no. But before either of them could move, Naomi nudged her body in front of Spencer’s, grabbing Reefer’s hands. Spencer tried to hold her ground, but then Naomi gave Spencer a little shove with her hip. Spencer staggered backward. Her heel caught on the uneven stones, and she wheeled her arms for balance. The moments in the air felt like an eternity, and suddenly her body hit cold water with a loud splash. Water gushed into her ears and drenched her dress. Her butt hit the bottom of the pool, and she quickly pushed off and swam to the surface, coming up sputtering.

She pushed her hair out of her eyes and looked around. The music was still playing just as loudly, but a lot of people on the dance floor had stopped and were staring at her. Waiters froze in place, trays in hand. Reefer’s mouth hung open. Naomi’s eyes were wide. After a moment, she stepped carefully toward the pool’s edge.

“My goodness, Spencer, are you okay?” she said in a fake-concerned voice. “You should be more
careful
!”

Spencer wanted to grab Naomi’s ankle and pull her in, too, but Naomi had already glided back to Reefer, assuming, perhaps, that they were going to continue dancing. But Reefer turned to a waiter, who rushed forward with a towel.

Spencer climbed out of the pool and let Reefer wrap the towel around her shoulders. “That was weird,” he murmured, oblivious, as he ushered her back to their table. “Maybe we shouldn’t have danced so close to the pool, huh?”

Not with Naomi around
, Spencer thought bitterly. Her phone beeped from inside her tote, and she bent down.
One new message from Anonymous
.

She glanced behind her. Naomi stared out the window, her phone in her lap. There was a wisp of a smile on her face, as if she was keeping a delicious secret.