I pull back slightly so I look at her face, expecting her to be smiling up at me, maybe even with tears glistening in her beautiful blue eyes. But instead, she looks pale, and her mouth is sagging at the corners.
“Sorry, that’ didn’t come out right. Look, I know we haven’t talked about the future, but I want you to know you mean a lot to me. It would be complicated, but—”
She shakes her head, then scrambles to get outside. A second later, I hear her heave and a rush of liquid splashing the banana leaf floor.
Shit. She ate the berries.
23
I Tried Out the Jungle Detox Plan and Here’s What Happened...
Arabella
I am an idiot. A complete and utter fool. I've been evacuating an incredible amount of God-knows-what in a violent spray coming from more than one direction. I apologize profusely. That was disgusting. Please forget I said that. Apparently being delirious with a fever results in me forgetting appropriate protocol.
It's been hours now and even though he hasn’t muttered so much as an unkind word, I can tell Will is furious with me—which he has every right to be. I got cocky. I was prancing through the woods, carrying my metal pot, dancing and singing like Snow White, stopping when I saw a bird or small lizards to bid them a good morning. I was drunk with happiness and I got too comfortable out here, thinking I knew everything about Sexlandia, but I don’t. I know nothing. I thought I knew which berries were safe, but I was wrong. Dead wrong.
My stomach lurches at the thought of the berries and I curl my legs up, shivering and sweaty in this tiny tent. Why didn’t I check with Will first? And why did I lie about it? Stupid, Arabella. Stupid.
He clearly doesn't want to yell at me because of the state I'm in, but his entire demeanor is simmering with a silent rage. When I try to apologize, he brushes it off, and the last time he said, “I don't want to hear it. Just rest.”
I’ve messed everything up. Everything. Any second now he’s going to call for help, which will mean I’ve ruined his chance to ever waltz with Matilda again. And his career. And the careers of Mac and Tosh. And I’m likely going to die out here in this tent. Fuck.
No! Rally, Arabella. Rally now. Just get up and be better than this! You are Lara Croft. You are Wonder Woman. You can rappel and machete things with a machete and … and …oh fuck, you’re a complete weakling. Taken down by some tiny berries.
He unzips the tent and holds the flap open but stays outside. “How are you feeling?”
“A little better,” I say, even though it’s not true because at this moment I would welcome death.
“Yeah, probably don't lie to me anymore because it will definitely get you killed.”
“Just smother me with a pillow and put me out of my misery.” I close my eyes and hoping that the world stops spinning so quickly.
“Jesus, Arabella. You know, if you had told me the truth, we could've done something about it. But now, all I can do is bloody well wait.”
“Sorry,” I whisper, knowing it's completely useless to both of us.
“That's it. I'm calling for help.”
“No.” My attempt at sounding strong comes out as utterly pathetic, and I hate myself for it. “I refuse to be the reason that nobody gets paid.”
“This is insane. I’m not risking your life for some cash.”
“Give me a couple of hours. I actually do feel slightly better,” I say, forcing myself to sit up.
He stares at me and I know he’s trying to figure out if he can believe me or not. “No, forget it. I can't risk it.”
“Will, please, I'm begging you. Just give me a little more time.” I put my hand on his. “What I'm saying makes sense and you know it. We can get on the raft and go as far as possible by river. That'll bring us closer to town in case I make a quick recovery, and closer to help if I don’t.”
He sighs heavily and rubs the back of his neck. After a horribly long and uncomfortable moment, he says, “Fine. I'll go collect some fresh water and some peppermint leaves for your nausea. If you can hold that down, we'll get on the raft. If you can't, I call for help.”
With that, he zips up the tent and I hear his footsteps disappearing. As soon as he's gone, I set my plan into action, forcing myself to get up and crawl outside. I drag myself over to the satellite phone. I grab the largest rock I can reach, lift it high into the air, then drop it directly on the phone. Then I stare, shocked at what I’ve done. I may have just killed myself with that one simple act because if I don’t turn the corner very soon, I’ll be dead by tomorrow.
“Okay, Arabella,” I whisper. “Woman up because it's do or die time.”
But first, a little nap right here on this nice dirt.
24
Only Fools Rush In…
Will
By the time I walk back toward camp, my pockets are filled with peppermint leaves and my chest is emptied of most of its anger. In its place is a huge lump of guilt. There's no reason for me to be kicking her when she's already down. It's not like Arabella is the first person to ever make a mistake. Besides, it’s my fault for letting her wander around out here alone. I knew better than to think she could handle herself.
I slice a nearby bamboo shoot, then fill both of our empty water bottles. When they’re full, I set back on the trail so I can apologize. The truth is, I don't like seeing her so weak and greenish and pale. There's a part of me that's well … a little bit … uncomfortable with that.
Okay, a lot uncomfortable.
Fine. Terrified. Is that better?
She matters to me in a way no one has before, and when she got sick, all I could think was: I can’t lose her. I don’t know if I’ll survive if I do. I need to apologize to her and tell her the truth, which is that I love her. As insane as that is to say or even feel after only knowing her for such a short time, it’s a fact. I love her, and I would give up everything for her. I'm about to give up my career, Matilda, and my friends, when they find out why we’ve been out here so long, leaving them all to wait. But somehow, if I know I have her, I can live without the rest.
The sky is growing dark as I reach camp. My eyes land on the sight of Arabella passed out on the ground next to the satellite phone. Christ, she must've been trying to call for help.
I drop everything and run over to her, kneel next to her on the ground. I touch her cheeks with both hands, finding them unusually hot and damp, even for this climate. “Arabella, come on, sweetheart. Don't do this, okay? You need to wake up.”
I grab a water bottle and pour some onto my hands and pat it onto her face, but she doesn’t wake up. I pour some into her hair, praying it will work. “Come on, Belle. Come on. Wake up already.”
My heart pounds in my chest and panic fills my blood as I stare at her lifeless body. A sob swells in my chest. “Do not die, Arabella! You can’t die.”
I lift her up a bit and kiss her cheek. “Wake up, okay?” I beg, my voice breaking. Nope. I can’t do this. I am not built for this shit. This is exactly what I get for falling in love with someone. “Come on, Arabella! Wake up!” I shout.