I blink slow. “Believe it.”
He holds on for another too-long moment before he takes his hand back and leans on the railing. He looks up, past Mack, past the highest deck, up into the stars. “You sure showed up at the right time to watch everything go to hell,” he says.
“I just assumed things were always like this at St Andrew’s.”
He laughs. “Twisted. I keep saying it because it keeps being true.”
“Thank you.”
“No,” he says, “thank you, Ms. Khanjara.” He stretches his arms out along the railing. Slides one hand across my back. His fingers burn through my shirt and into my skin. “You’re the only one who’s not losing your shit.”
Behind the glass, Mack keeps the course. The shoreline we left has faded away completely, and to the north only the dimmest lights shine from the cliffs. We’ll head out to sea until they’ve all died to dark. Until we’re past El Matador and too far away to see the shore even if we stayed out past dawn.
We’re a tiny lonely light on the tar-black water.
“Not scared of anything, huh?” Banks asks.
“No.” I flash a grin that glows bright.
“Damn,” he says. I know he sees my fangs. “Never met a girl like you before.”
That night at Duncan’s house the dazzle-smiled boy said, I’ve never seen anyone like you—
We crash hard into another wave and I say, right as we hit, “Maybe once.” A spell-quiet murmur he won’t hear until he’s all alone in the dark. Then, louder, “And you never will again.”
“This shit,” he says. “It’ll be over soon.”
It’s the truth.
We stay where we are. The lights vanish one by one and I feel the birds from the rooftop circling. It’s impossible, but they’re there. Diving together in the black sky. Watching over me. Blotting out the stars so not even heaven can peek through.
Finally Mack lets the boat idle. He comes out onto the deck and takes a long, deep drink. Then he kisses me and I feel the liquor hit my veins—
—except it isn’t the liquor, and it isn’t his kiss. It’s the moment.
“What now?” says Banks. He scans the horizon. “Fuck, it’s dark out here.”
“Now the party starts,” I say with the wickedest smile I’ve let myself show since I stepped through the doors to St Andrew’s.
Then I say, “Truth or dare.”
“Again? Fuck,” says Banks, but he laughs.
“Have a better idea?” I say, all challenge and double meaning.
He scoffs. “Not as long as you’re playing. It’ll be my turn to ask next.”
I pull Mack’s arms tight around me. “I know.”
Banks takes the bottle back and drinks. “Dare.”
I say, “Jump.”
He blinks. “You mean—”
“No,” Mack says.
But I nod. “I mean in.”
“Fuck no,” says Banks.
I laugh. “Are you scared?”
“Hell yes, I am. You’re crazy.”
“Weak,” I say, searing and digging. “God, you’re a disappointment.”
He riles. “You do it.”
Mack grabs my hand and says, “Jade, don’t.”
I take the bottle from Banks and drink—really drink this time. Enough to dull my heartbeat so he won’t see it tapping fast through my skin. Enough to see him the way he looked that night, I hope, when I see him for the very last time.
“Don’t,” says Mack, urgent.
“She won’t,” says Banks. “Calling it right now.”
I pull out of Mack’s grasp and run across the deck and down the stairs. The boys clatter behind me. I call, “Where are the lights?” and Mack fumbles at the wall. The stern deck floods with daybreak.
I back away from them until I feel the railing cold against my legs. “Where’s the ladder?”
“On your right,” Mack stammers out. “But you can’t—”
I laugh. Burning bright with anticipation and every stupid reckless thing I’ll risk. I’d do anything—
I will do anything—
—to get what I want. And I know exactly what I want.
I unlatch the gate. Unhook the ladder and send it clanking down into the water. Spin back to the middle of the deck. The boat shines white but it doesn’t matter anymore, because now I know I can paint the white red.
I can take every single thing they tried to ruin and make it mine again. Make it a weapon that cuts them down and bleeds them dry.
I unbutton my blouse and let it flutter down to the deck. Unzip my skirt and let it fall. Stand there in jade-green lace and my silver crucifix. Bare skin and faded bruises but tonight, all the power is mine.
They stare. Banks leering and Mack strung tight in fear.
“Weak,” I say. “You’ll never be men. You’ll be scared little boys forever—”
And I turn and run hard for the edge and leap.
Sinking
The water swallows me whole. Its teeth cut gashes into my skin and it’s so cold that my mouth flies open and I gasp and then I’m choking. It’s darker than any dark there’s ever been. The water grabs my arms and my legs and pulls me down, pulls me apart, pulls me deeper—
I fight.
I will always fucking fight.
The ocean should know better.
I kick its grasping strangling fingers away. Pull hard with both arms. Mads said you can’t swim for shit, but I can and she knows it and tonight I’m not weak like I was that day under the too-bright sun. Tonight I swing hard at the hands that hold me and the teeth that want me and the haze that drags me toward sleep—
I burst through the surface. Gasp so hard I see another sky of stars between me and the real sky. The boat blazes bright but ten times farther away than it should be. The waves lift me and drop me back down.
Mack yells from far away. I see them leaning over the railing. Two little shadows screaming, Jade.
But they don’t jump in.
I fight. Breathe in deep and dig into the water and crawl for the light. It takes hours. It takes days. But I kick and I fight and then all at once, the lights are blinding and Mack and Banks are five feet away and yelling themselves hoarse. My hand hits the ladder. The shock—
the thrill—
—shoots up my arm and fills me up. I shout at Mack and Banks, shout at the sky and the shrinking stars, shout at my guardian flock and feel them scatter away into the night.
I’m safe. They know I can do what I came here to do.
My other hand finds the ladder and I climb up and stumble onto the deck. Dripping wet and with water caught deep in my lungs, but laughing. A wild shrieking laugh that peals brighter than the waves and the wind.
“Fuck,” says Banks. And then, “Fuck, Mack, you know how to pick them.”
It echoes from the white-sheets room, Fuck, Dunc, you know how to pick them—
—but the echo is dull and drowning and sinking to the bottom of the ocean.
“Jade—” Mack gasps. He runs for the cabin and comes back with a towel and wraps me in it. I shiver against him. I kiss his neck, kiss his jaw, kiss his lips.