‘Yeah, no, sort of. Sorry. I’m talking shit. I’m a bit drunk.’
He smiles and closes his eyes. I watch as his body relaxes and he inhales deeply, breathing in the salty sea air. I’ve looked at his face a thousand times and I still think he’s the best-looking boy I’ve ever seen. His eyelashes are ridiculously thick and long and, beneath his closed lids, his eyes are the warmest brown. His nose is long and straight, his lips full and—
Urrgh. I roll onto my back and cover my face with my hands.
What am I doing? Why do I do this to myself?
I just had the strongest urge to lean over and kiss him, which is ridiculous because Milo isn’t interested in me. If he was, something would have happened between us years ago. He’s just a friend, one that likes a bit of a flirt occasionally, but there’s nothing more to it than that. I reach the fingers of my right hand over to my left forearm and I’m just about to pinch my skin when I sense that I’m being watched.
‘Why do you do that?’ Milo’s brown eyes bore into me.
‘Do what?’
‘Pinch yourself. I’ve seen you do it a few times over the last couple of days. You never used to do it before.’
‘I’m not pinching myself. I’m just… itching.’
There’s a pause and my stomach clenches as I brace myself for an onslaught of questions. But Milo doesn’t push the subject. Instead he sighs and says, ‘Do you really think there’s someone else on the other side of the island?’
‘I don’t know. Do you think we should look? Tomorrow, when it’s light?’
‘What if they’re bad guys?’
Now it’s my turn to laugh. ‘Bad guys, Mr Katsaro? How old are you? Five?’
‘Six. Nearly. It’s my birthday tomorrow. We’re going to Laser Quest. Want to come? Oh, look at that!’ He sits up and points up into the sky as something white whizzes overhead. ‘What do you reckon? Meteorite, UFO or plane?’
‘It could be a shooting star.’
‘Yeah, one with wings and two hundred passengers. I’d wave for help but I can’t be arsed to move.’ He slumps back onto the sand, arms spread wide. His right hand lands so close to my left that our little fingers touch. I don’t snatch my hand away. Neither does Milo.
‘If it had been a shooting star,’ I try to keep my tone light, but all I can think about is the fact that his finger is touching mine, ‘what would you have wished for?’
He snorts softly. ‘If I told you I wouldn’t get my wish, would I?’
I sneak a glance at him but he’s not looking at me, he’s staring up at the sky. I don’t know if it’s my imagination or not but he looks more tense than he did a couple of minutes ago, and he’s breathing more shallowly.
We lapse into silence. My heart’s thudding and every time I inhale my breath seems to catch in my throat. I try to focus on the sounds of the jungle – the soft honking of a bird, the cracks and snaps of branches breaking, the whooping of the monkeys – but all I can think about is the centimetre of skin where our bodies are touching. It’s nothing, something I wouldn’t even notice normally but now, lying on the beach with Milo, it feels like everything.
My heart sinks as Milo moves his finger, lifting it away from mine, and I curse myself for being so ridiculous, but a split second later he lowers it onto my finger again and, with the smallest of movements, gently moves it back and forth over my skin. I don’t react, I don’t speak, I barely breathe, but inside I feel a rush of excitement and longing that journeys up from my stomach to my chest.
I can hear Milo breathing, quickly, shallowly and I know I’m not imagining what’s happening between us. This isn’t two friends flirting anymore. The air between us is loaded with tension but I can’t bring myself to turn my head to look at him. I don’t want to break the spell.
But I want him to kiss me. Right now, I want that to happen more than anything else in the world.
Still staring up into the dark sky I lift my little finger and slowly, gently curl it around his. I hear him inhale sharply, then he moves his hand over mine, sliding his fingers between mine, moving them slowly back and forth and he rubs his thumb over the back of my hand. As I turn my head to look at him his eyes meet mine and there’s an intensity to his gaze that makes my stomach clench.
Neither of us smiles or says a word. We just look, as though seeing each other for the very first time.
Milo shifts onto his side, closing the space between us, and my heart beats so fast it’s as though it’s pulsing in the base of my throat. He’s going to kiss me. He’s finally going to—
‘There you are, you loser!’ Danny appears from nowhere and dives onto Milo, spraying me with sand. ‘Oh! You’re here too, Jess. Meg and Honor have gone to bed and I’m bored. Who fancies skinny dipping?’
Chapter 10
DANNY
Day three on the island
There’s a distinct tang of sick in the air as Danny wakes up, sweating in the clothes he’s been wearing for three days, his sleeping bag pushed down around his hips. He smacks his dry lips together and investigates the unpleasant taste in his mouth with his tongue. Yep, as he suspected, he was the one who was sick. Vague, blurry memories of the night before drift across his mind as he wriggles out of the shelter and crawls over to a bottle of water, covered with sand. He remembers sitting with Honor and Meg at the fire and playing what seemed to be a hilarious game of thumper. He also recalls stumbling along the beach, seeing Milo sitting alone and then jumping on him, only to realize too late that Jessie was lying beside him. Then he remembers stripping off his clothes and running into the sea with Milo. After that? Not very much.
‘All right, guys!’ He winces as Jeffers’ strident voice cuts straight through him. He blinks up at him, shielding his eyes from the sun as Jeffers strides out of the jungle, his ‘travel rucksack’ slung over his shoulders. ‘Now that everyone, or nearly everyone, is awake, I thought we should come up with a plan of action.’
Danny glances back at the shelter. Honor is sitting up, squinting as she runs her hands through her knotted hair. He feels a jolt of hope as she flashes him a smile. He just wants her to love him the way she used to.
Now, Danny feels someone else’s eyes on him and turns to see Meg walking up from the sea in a black bikini, her dark hair a thick wet rope that hangs down one shoulder. Unlike Milo, who’s always been an open book, his sister’s always been more reserved. Danny and Meg have never been particularly close. She tolerates him in front of the others, and occasionally laughs at his jokes, but he’s seen the looks she gives him when she thinks he’s not looking – like she thinks he’s a dick. She likes Honor, though. Out of the girls, they get on the best, but they couldn’t be more different. If Honor is sweetness and light then Meg is darkness and shade. It’s weird how much they’ve all drifted apart since they were kids. They were all born in London but, while Jessie, Meg and Milo still live there (on opposite sides of the city), the other families all moved away. Jeffers lives in Edinburgh and Danny and Honor live in the South-East – a seventeen-minute train journey away from each other (him in Lewes, her in Brighton).