Chapter Eighteen
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The storm rages for hours. We're safe and sound inside the cave, but taking refuge in it meant we had to navigate a steep learning curve. If you touch anything, you risk damaging historical artefacts or eons old rock formations. If you wander around the cavern's dark corridors too much, you might come across more grisly human remains (and I've seen enough of that already). And if you speak too loud, it stirs up the bats who live deeper within the cave.
Yes, bats. That was fun.
They were the size of house cats but squeaked like mice. When they saw that going outdoors was not an option due to the inclement weather, a dozen or so of them flapped around aimlessly above our heads. Edward kept grumbling stuff about "rabies" and "bat shit", which was faintly amusing, I must admit. None of the bats bit or pooped on us, so his worries were unfounded. After a few short minutes, they fled back to their roosts and left us alone. They weren't so bad. I've had a tougher time getting rid of annoying sales people knocking on my front door.
By morning, it's clear skies again. I slept on a rock last night, which sounds about as comfortable as you might imagine. At first light, Edward and I get to work. We gather armfuls of wood and build a fire outside the mouth of the cave. It's tough to get it going since everything is still a little damp. Edward pulls out the lighter he took from Amelia's airplane. After fiddling with it, he pours a few drops of the fluid onto a piece of wood and adds it to the fire. The wood bursts into flames. We feed the fire leaves, twigs, and eventually, branches until it's of good size.
The time has come to disinfect some of that water we found inside the cavern. It looks clean, like spring water, but Edward said we should boil it regardless. All we have is a single metal cup strong enough to withstand the heat, so it's a slow process. He is in charge of getting the water to boil and making sure it cooks long enough to kill any harmful bacteria. My job is to pour the cooled liquid into bottles for storage, which we only have a precious few. It's a good thing we saved some of the empty coconut shell halves. All I have to do is fill the shell with water, line the edge with the chewing gum I found in Tanya's purse, and place the other half of the coconut shell on top. And, voilà. We have makeshift water containers. As long as we are careful, the chewing gum seal should hold.
The rest of our morning is spent completing the exploration of the island. Other than more creepy statues, we find no living, breathing people. We return to the boat and leave immediately. I'm not sorry to see this particular island disappear from view.
By noon, it's sweltering hot. We're far out at sea and the sun shines with full force. The only difference between yesterday and today is the wind. It's strong and circulates the dry, salty air. That's not a good thing. It feels like we're inside a convection oven. It's a good thing my hat blocks some of the wind from my face.
Edward calls for a water break mid-afternoon. As he hands over the bottle, I get a good look at him.
"Edward," I gasp. "Your lips! They're cracked."
"I'm aware of that," he deadpans. "This happens sometimes on windy days at sea."
"Doesn't it hurt?"
"A little. But it doesn't matter, I can take it."
I fight back an eye roll. His lips are going to start bleeding if he isn't careful. Can't men ever admit they're not invincible?
Hold on. Maybe I'm being too harsh with my criticism. Most men can ask for help if they need it. This is solely an annoying trait of Edward's.
I reach into Tanya's purse and retrieve a small tube. We're in luck. It doesn't look like she ever used this. But just to be sure, I take a fresh tissue and clean the top of the product.
"Here," I say once I'm done.
He slowly reaches out for it. "What's this?"
"Just something I think you could use right about now. It'll fix your lips in no time."
His brow furrows as he reads what he was given. A scowl is soon aimed in my direction.
"I am not putting that shit on me," he grumbles.
"Why not?"
"Because it's fucking lipstick!"
"It's lip balm."
"I don't care what you call it. It's pink, Bella."
"Ugh." I snatch the lip balm back and demonstrate how to easy it is to apply the product. Then, I smack my lips together and show off the results. "Look. Do you see any flashy, overly feminine lipstick?"
"No... but your lips are a little pinker than before," he says warily.
"That's because this is a tinted lip balm. This is basically chapstick with only a hint of color. It's barely noticeable. But you're missing the point: This isn't makeup. Just read the ingredients if you don't believe me. It has shea butter, coconut oil, and lanolin. Those are all things meant to heal skin."
He goes silent. Although I made a good argument, he's still on the fence... and we don't have time for that crap.
"Edward, stop delaying the inevitable," I scold. "No one's going to see you wearing it except for me. So put on the damn lip balm before your lips shrivel up and fall off!" I pause and tap my chin dramatically. "Hmm. On second thought, maybe there's a bright side to you having no lips. Since you need them to speak, that means you'd lose the ability to communicate. Which, in turn, means you wouldn't be able to argue with me anymore. And if you can't argue, then I'll always be right!"
He groans, but he also applies the lip balm to his chapped mouth. Hallelujah. He's come to his senses. Praise Burt's Bees.
I slip the tube back into the purse. "See, Edward. That wasn't so bad, now was it?"
"I suppose it wasn't," he admits. He slides his lips together experimentally. "It doesn't hurt quite as much as before."
"Good, I had a feeling it would help."
"Yes. Well, umm. Thank you."
"You're welcome."
He rotates around to face straight ahead. Our break is over. It's time to start paddling our asses off again. But before I can focus on my job, there's one last thing I need to make known.
"Hey, Edward. I forgot to tell you something."
He glances over a shoulder. "Yes?"
My grin is wide and teasing. "Pink looks very pretty on you."
His heavy sigh brings out a giggle in me. Who knew that Edward could be funny without even cracking a joke?
The jovial mood doesn't last forever. We paddle until dark...then do it some more by the moonlight. Eventually, we work in shifts while the other person sleeps. The boat isn't comfortable, but the gentle rocking is nice.
It's my turn to sleep when I am shaken awake. It's early morning, and Edward is hovering over me.
"I see land," he announces quietly. "I thought you might want to know."
I sit up, rubbing my eyes. "Yeah," I reply as I try holding in a yawn. "I definitely would. Where's it at?"
He points at a smudge where the ocean meets the sky. We'll probably be at its shore within the next hour. Edward attempts to convince me to go back to sleep, but I've already picked up my oar. A thousand (give or take) strokes later, an island made of rock appears before us. It reminds me of a fortress. There's a steep cliff with a sliver of a beach at the bottom and land at the top. Edward and I will have to climb it in order to do any exploring. Light mist rises from a distant hill. Sporadic clumps of green vegetation softens its rough exterior.
Edward suddenly sits up straighter. His oar doesn't move. It's like he's frozen.
"Hey," I say, concern evident in my voice. "You ok?"
Without saying a word, he turns around and grabs my wrist. He pulls me forward until we're side by side and on our knees.
"Bel-la, I have to ask you something." His eyes have a strange, gleaming quality. And he's over-pronouncing each word coming from his mouth. "Look on the left hand side of the island and tell me what you see."
"Why?"
"Just do it... please."
I squint into the distance and begin rattling off what I see using the most bored voice I can produce.
"I see sand; some rocks. Oh, wow. A few birds are flying around. Whoop de doo. There's a pier..." With that last word still echoing inside my brain, my head whips around to Edward. "Oh my God. It's a pier!"
"I'm glad you can see it too," he breathes out in genuine relief. "I was worried I was hallucinating."
"Well, we must be hallucinating together." I break out into a wide smile. "We did it! I can't believe we finally found an island with people!"
I scramble back to my normal spot. Edward and I are paddling so fast that the boat feels like it's being powered by an engine. My excitement skyrockets. The pier is the first hint of civilization we've seen in weeks. Someone had to have built it with their own two hands not long ago. I can't wait to see it up close. I'll ooh and ahh at its solid construction. I'll wax poetic over its rustic beauty. Hell, I'll be so happy to be in its presence, I might French it. Hopefully my tongue won't get splinters.
I also muse about the people who reside on the island. Most of them are likely scientists since the research base is here. They'll probably be shocked to see Edward and me. I'm sure this will be the first time they've ever had unexpected visitors show up on their doorstep!
My smile fades a little when we pull up beside the pier. As he secures the boat, I notice that the wood is bleached a dull gray due to years of sitting underneath the sun. There's a board missing too. Nothing major is wrong with the pier, but for some reason, it gives me a sense of unease.
Edward hops out of the boat like a jackrabbit. It's no surprise he moves around so easily in this environment. His entire career has revolved around the sea. In a shockingly helpful move, he holds out a hand and pulls me up alongside of him. It's a short walk to shore. The cliff is the only thing which greets our arrival. There's no houses, no huts, and most disappointingly, no people. I guess it shouldn't be a surprise. There's really no room to build on this beach.
"They're probably farther inland," says Edward. "All we have to do is climb the cliff."
I follow him up a zigzagging path. Steps have been carved into the rock. Once we reach the top, I peek downward. We're a good twenty feet above sea level. The path doesn't end at the top of the cliff. It continues on, weaving between trees and around boulders like a snake. It's not an easy journey. Sharp rocks poking from the dirt are tripping hazards. I stub my toe on quite a few.
"Ow!" I rub my foot against the back of my leg. "Stupid rock," I hiss. I run a few steps to catch back up with Edward. "Hey! What are these scientists studying anyway?"
"I don't know," he answers. "Could be anything."
"It must be something amazing if they passed up monster crabs and cuddly, glow-in-the dark monkeys."
"I'm sure they have no idea those animals exist."
"Do you think they'd be interested if we told them?"
He snorts. "I doubt they'll believe us. They'll put it down as the crazed ramblings of two people who've been lost at sea for too long."
"Well, maybe if we had brought along that baby monkey, we'd at least have proof we're not lying," I retort, half teasing.
He slams to a sudden stop. Confused by his reaction, I peer around his frame. There's a gash running across the earth, separating our side from the other. It's not Grand Canyon wide or deep, but it does go down farther than I'd want to fall. Compounding the problem is the bridge stretching over the gap. It's made entirely of rope and sticks. When the wind blows, the bridge shakes along with it.
Basically, it's a big nope from beginning to end.
While I'm busy wondering what we're going to do, Edward starts walking again.
"Stop!" I grab him by the tail of his shirt and jerk him back. He was this close to putting his foot on the Bridge of Doom. "Are you suicidal, Edward? Don't get on that thing!"
"Why not? It's sturdy enough."
"Sturdy my ass! That so-called bridge looks older than you."
He raises an eyebrow. "Are you implying that I'm old?"
"No. I'm saying you won't be celebrating your next birthday if you try walking across this deathtrap."
"You're being dramatic, Bella. Rope bridges are cheap, easy to build, and safe. You'll find them in rural areas all over the planet. They're nearly indestructible as long as they're kept under regular maintenance."
I frown at his logical, fact-filled response. "I don't know. I still don't trust it," I mutter.
"Then watch me cross it first," he says. "That should set your mind at ease."
I hold my breath as he puts his full weight on the swinging bridge. When he walks, it bounces like a trampoline. That doesn't affect Edward. His confidence is unwavering. It appears as though he's merely out on a Sunday stroll.
"Your turn!" he hollers once he's safely on the other side.
Since he made it look easy, I'm out of excuses. I shuffle to the bridge and set my foot on it. A stone previously embedded in my shoe drops in between the empty space of two wooden slats. I watch the stone's fate play out with horrified fascination. It spins 'round and 'round as it falls. When it hits the bottom of the ravine, the impact shatters it to dust.
I take one enormous step backwards, both mentally and physically. Nope, nope, NOPE! There's absolutely no way I can cross this bridge.
"Bella, you can do this," Edward says from across the gap separating us. "Don't let fear control you."
"Your pep talk isn't help-ing," I sing-song nervously.
"Then just listen to me and close your eyes."
"Close my eyes? For what reason?"
"So you won't be tempted to look down while you're walking. It will only make you more jittery."
"You want me to walk with my eyes closed? If I do that, I won't know I'm about to fall until it's too late!"
"All right, so don't close them. But look somewhere else instead of at your feet... like at me, for example. You can do that, can't you?"
I wet my lips. "And how will I manage that, exactly? I need to watch we're I'm going."
"I'll be your eyes. Your job will be to watch me and only me. Got it?"
I hesitate before answering. What other choice do I have? None really. Being left behind isn't an option. I have to go with him somehow.
"Yeah, I got it," I say in defeat. "But, Edward, you should know something important: If I end up dying, I'm putting all the blame on you."
"How will you blame me if you're already dead?"
"Oh, I'll do it. I intend to come back as a ghost and haunting your ass forever. Consider it my revenge."
"I see." His mouth twitches. "Well, it's a good thing for me that you won't be dying today, isn't it?" he counters dryly. "All right, that's enough chit chat. Time to start walking."
I direct my gaze at Edward's face. His expectant expression draws me forward. The bridge sways the moment I set foot on it. In response, my hands put a death grip on the rope railings. The friction burns my fingers as I walk. Every sound I hear echoes hollowly through me. The wood beneath my feet creaks in warning. The ropes strain ominously. The wind burrows itself into my eardrums. Only the hum of Edward's voice keeps me from fleeing back to my starting point. He issues commands on what to do and gives updates on how much farther I have to go.
Amid the cacophony, I'm mentally cursing the person who built this bridge. Why does it have to swing? Scientists live here for heaven's sake! Aren't they smart enough to come up with something that's stationary? I'll gladly donate to their research fund if they can make that happen.
"Only a few more steps, Bella," Edward says.
Upon hearing the news, my heart leaps. I find myself walking faster. The instant my feet are on solid ground, relief kicks in. I'm alive! In celebration, I throw my arms around Edward's neck and squeeze.
"Thank you," I gasp.
"Erm. It was nothing. You would have-" He pauses to cough. "...done the same for me."
The awkward way he spoke makes my eyes snap open. What am I doing? I'm snuggling this man like he's my comfort animal. He's firm and warm, and the sense of inner peace I feel is almost addicting. Although the hug is nice, I don't think Edward appreciates it much. The distressed look on his face says it all. I'm not surprised. He doesn't strike me as a touchy-feely sort of person.
I step back, smoothing out the wrinkles in my clothes as I do so. Also, I slap on a fake smile in hopes of concealing my embarrassment. "Yeah, umm. You're absolutely right. And I guess... we better get going now!"
Then I take off in a brisk jog before I can fondle him any further.
Edward follows close behind as we resume walking the trail. I don't know what to say, so I remain silent just to be on the safe side. We soon enter a grove of trees. Once we exit the wooded area, we come across an anomaly. Multiple pools of water are located on a dull, grassless field. Many of them are rusty red due to the color of the rocks lining their bottoms. A few of the others are a striking lime green. All emit a small amount of steam into the air. Hot springs. There's one of those near Forks. Some enterprising entrepreneur turned it into a resort many years ago, where they charge tourists to soak in its waters.
While the other pools are interesting, the one a few steps away is the most eye catching. It's outlined with dandelion yellow rocks while the center is azure blue. I walk closer, enthralled by its beauty. The water looks so inviting. I reach out to touch its warmth.
My hand is yanked away before I can make contact.
I'm slammed backwards into a hard chest. I lose my breath. Despite not seeing him, all of my senses become eerily aware of Edward's every move. Heated air from his nose blows directly into my right ear. I ball up my fists at my sides, forcing myself not to shiver.
"You don't want to touch that," he says.
To demonstrate why, he steps away and plucks a long palm frond from a nearby shrub. He slides the tip into the pool. Bubbles form out of seemingly nowhere, boiling like a witch's cauldron. Everything submerged is eaten away in seconds. Half of the palm leaf has gone missing.
"This water is highly acidic," he murmurs. "As much as that of a car battery. Heat-loving microorganisms can live in there, but nothing else. They're on the rocks. That's why the pools are so colorful. Each color you see represents a different variety of bacteria." He holds the damaged leaf up for inspection. "Now, imagine this leaf was your hand. You would have lost it before you were even aware of what was happening."
I crinkle my nose. The pool doesn't look quite so pretty anymore. It's like a Venus flytrap - lovely, but also extremely deadly to certain unsuspecting creatures.
I tear my gaze away from the palm leaf in order to look at Edward. "I have a question," I say solemnly. "Are we in Hell?"
He snorts as though I've told a joke. I shake my head.
"No, I'm serious," I press on. "This is literally Hell, isn't it? Pools aren't supposed to melt your body parts off just because you took a dip in them."
"This isn't Hell... though I can't imagine it being any worse than this spot."
"You've got that right," I mumble.
"But we should be thankful for the thermal pools. I suspect they are partly why the research base was placed here. They come in handy when monitoring the region's volcanic activity."
My eyebrows lift. "Oh, so it's only a volcano island we've landed on and not the Underworld itself. Gee. What a relief."
He throws me a pointed glance. "Let's get going. I have a feeling we're getting close to the base. We can swap more witty banter later."
We return to the trail. Edward's prediction is soon proven correct. Because after a short walk, what we've been looking for is standing directly in front of us. I blink several times in succession, hoping with all my soul that what I'm seeing isn't real.
There's a building, all right, but a quarter of the structure has been flattened by a pile of mud and rubble.
The hill behind the building is the culprit for the disaster. At some point in time, a mudslide raced down the slope, burying everything in its path. It's a miracle any of the research base remains upright. If it had been built any closer to the hill, it likely would have been destroyed completely.
"Hello!" I yell. "Is anyone home?"
My echo is the only sound in the vicinity.
Edward turns slowly towards me, his face an empty mask. "I'm going in," he says.
"I'll go with you."
"No, you won't."
"Yes, I will."
"No! There's no telling what might be in there," he snaps.
"I've stood in a pit filled with human bones, Edward. I can handle just about anything at this point."
"Don't be a fool. If we both go and the building caves in, neither one of us survives." The irritation in his voice subsides a little. "I need you outside as a lookout. If you see anything out of the ordinary - even a loose pebble tumbling down the hillside - I want you to sound the alarm."
I heave a sigh and agree. If not for that pleading look in his eyes, I would have fought harder to go inside. I must be becoming a softie.
He enters the building cautiously, stopping every few moments to glance around. When he disappears from view, I pace back and forth. Several torturously long minutes tick by. It's not until he appears back in the doorway that I finally relax. He shuffles like a zombie to where I am waiting and sinks to the ground. Looking straight ahead at nothing, his expression is unreadable.
"No one is here," he says in monotone. "They abandoned the place and left nothing useful behind. They took their radios, satellite phones... even the medical supplies. The only thing I saw in there was a can of baked beans that expired two years ago."
The news is a hard blow. I lower myself to where he sits. "What should we do now?"
His eyes snap in my direction. "Nothing. This was our only shot at getting help for Emmett." After that brief spark, the fire in him dies. He bows his head. "We're fucked," he mutters.
"Don't say that. We have to keep thinking positively. There must be something we can do."
"There's not. Our only choice is to go back to where we started. I'm sure Emmett and the others are wondering what became of us."
"We can't go back empty handed, Edward. They'll lose hope, and Emmett might get sicker."
"I can't do anything about that."
"Yes, you can! Don't give up yet."
His gaze locks with mine. "What do you suggest we do, then, hmm? Because I'm all out of ideas."
"Um." I tap my fingers together nervously as I think. "Well, I'm not sure, but... Oh!" I suck in a breath when I remember something. "Edward! How many islands are there?"
"Seven."
"And how many have you and I visited?"
"Six."
"Exactly! There's one last island we can check out."
"What's the point?" he questions wearily. "We were looking for the research base, and here it is...or what's left of it. Why should we go gallivanting off to another godforsaken island?"
"Think about it, Edward. What if the scientists didn't abandon the Whitwatchers. Isn't there a chance they only relocated?"
He knits his brow. He takes his sweet time about answering. "I... suppose it's possible," he says hesitantly.
Energized by his response, I grab his hands and pull him up. "Then, let's go! There's no time to lose."
We get a move on right away. When we reach the mini Grand Canyon again, I realize we must walk on the swinging bridge a second time. I loathe every step, but it isn't quite as terrifying as it was the first time now that I know what to expect. Within seconds of us safely crossing the gap, I hear a noise. One of the support ropes has begun unraveling. It soon snaps like a rubber band. Unable to take on the additional weight, another rope breaks as well. The bridge collapses in on itself, creating a racket that can be heard for miles. Slow as a snail, I creep to the edge and peek down. All that's left of the bridge is a frayed end of rope draped over the side of the ravine.
I spin around to catch Edward's reaction. His complexion has paled considerably. I cock my head at him.
"What was that you were saying earlier?" I reminisce derisively. "Something about this bridge being nearly indestructible?"
He rubs his brow, as though he's developed a headache. "It was indestructible until we came along," he mutters. "We tend to leave a trail of destruction behind wherever we go."
I can't argue with that. Our luck on this journey hasn't been the greatest.
It's almost noon when we reach our boat. Edward gives me two options: Stay the night on the island, or leave immediately. I choose the latter. Although it means we might be sleeping on the boat again, I couldn't stomach wasting any more time here just so we may rest more comfortably.
The ocean is like a mirror. The weather is warm but not outrageously so. Edward and I paddle the boat the same as ever, but I notice he hasn't spoken much since we found the abandoned research base. He frowns more too. There's an aura of depression hanging over him that's beginning to rub off on me. Morale is at an all time low. Something must be done before it gets worse.
"Hey," I blurt out of nowhere. "Let's play a game."
"Why?" he grumbles, not even bothering to turn around.
"Because the silence is driving me crazy, and it will help us pass the time."
He is quiet... too quiet. I'm almost positive he is going to outright reject my idea. I'm happily surprised when I am wrong.
"What sort of game?" he asks.
"Twenty-one questions."
"What's that?"
"It's where we ask each other personal questions, like what's your favorite food and why? I used to play it at sleepovers all the time when I was a kid."
"What are the rules?"
"My sister and I came up with our own set of rules to follow. One: You may pass on a question only once. And, Two: Repeat questions suck. Be creative and think up something new to ask."
"Rule One is acceptable, but Rule Two is too restricting."
"Fine," I exhale. "You can repeat a question one time if it's that important to you."
"Agreed. You start first."
"Ok... What's your deepest, darkest secret?"
He stops paddling and twists around to stare. "You're starting with a hard question right out of the gate?"
"Easy is boring, Edward. Answer the question: Tell me something no one else knows about you."
He returns to paddling. A few strokes of his oar later, he answers. "Last year I took off a week from work. I told Emmett I had a family reunion I couldn't get out of. That was a lie. The truth is that I had a ticket to a Nickelback concert in New Jersey."
"That's your deepest, darkest secret? That you like Nickelback?" I throw up my hands. "Ugh! Just about every male of our generation still likes Nickelback, Edward. The online hatred is mostly just a lot of baloney."
"It's a secret because I usually only listen to classic rock or indie. Commercialized rock isn't really my scene, but I have a soft spot for the songs of my youth."
"Well, there's nothing wrong with that. Why did you keep it a secret from Emmett?"
"Because he'd give me shit about it. I make fun of his music preferences all the time. He would love to return the favor, and I don't want to give him the pleasure."
I roll my eyes. Guys. Even as adults they're immature sometimes.
"It's my turn to ask a question, isn't it?" asks Edward.
"Yep."
"All right. I'll ask a simple one first. Who is your best friend?"
I smile a little. "My sister, Alice."
"Am I allowed to ask follow up questions as long as they relate to what's already been asked?"
I squint an eye as I think. "Um...sure."
"Why is she your best friend?"
"Because she's Yin to my Yang. She's everything I wish I could have been. Beautiful, outgoing... She's always the life of the party. And she's funny. My god, she can make me laugh with her goofball remarks. Like, I was sending her pictures of the yacht through email, and she said you-"
I slap a hand over my mouth before I can utter another syllable. I cannot believe how stupid and careless I am. I almost spilled the beans about how after Alice saw a shot of Edward working on deck, she nicknamed him Cabana Boy One and advised I should "hit that" before the end of the trip!
"She said what about me?" Edward presses curiously.
"Uh... nothing. Just that you seemed like a great captain." I swallow to moisten my bone dry mouth. "Anyway... she's unbelievably lucky too. Did you know she met her future husband in kindergarten? It took Jasper a decade to admit his feelings, but once he did, they've been inseparable ever since." My voice cracks. "They're expecting fraternal twins soon. I was supposed to help her in the delivery room. I guess I'm going to miss it."
Edward paddles silently for a short time. He clears his throat before attempting to speak. "Who's the eldest?"
"Alice, by eleven months."
Edward glances over his shoulder. "Only eleven?"
"Yeah. Mom and Dad thought breastfeeding was a foolproof method of birth control. I'm living proof that it isn't." I pause to pull up my hair in the back. "Is it my turn to ask you a question?"
"Yes."
"Hmm." I purse my lips as I come up with something. "Ok, Edward. I've got one. Why did you turn down Tanya the night she visited your room?"
He swings around in his seat. "How the fuck do you know about that?"
"She told me and I comforted her. I don't think she's used to rejection. May I ask why you weren't interested?"
He tsks. "Tanya is a child."
"She's twenty-one."
"Her body may be twenty-one, but her brain hasn't passed prepubescent stage." He furrows his brow. "Besides, she's really not my type."
"You have a type?"
"Don't most people?"
"I don't. As long as the guy seems nice and I feel some sort of connection, I'll at least give them a shot."
"How diplomatic of you," he says dryly.
"So, who's your type?" I ask.
He shakes his head. "You are breaking the rules, Bella. That is a separate question."
I frown. "Ok. It's your turn, then."
"A short while ago, you said your sister made a comment about me. What was it?"
I fidget in my seat. "I already told you."
"You were chewing your lower lip, Bella. How about telling me the truth this time."
I huff at myself. Why do I have to be so easy for him to read?
"Pass," I groan. "Ask me another question."
He frowns. I can tell he isn't happy that I utilized Rule Number One.
"How did you and Mike meet?" he asks instead.
I scrunch my face. "Why do you want to know?"
"Just curious."
I release a heavy sigh. "Mike and I work at the same media conglomerate in Seattle. He's on the tenth floor; I'm on the thirty-first. It's a huge company, so we probably wouldn't have met if we hadn't done it by accident."
Edward reaches for some water and takes a sip. Once he passes the bottle to me, he finally comments.
"Tell me more about this first meeting," he says flatly.
"It's nothing. All that happened was I was walking through the lobby with a stack of papers. Mike ran into me, causing the papers to fly everywhere. He apologized and helped me pick them up. Afterwards, he tried asking me out. I rejected his offer because I didn't know him. The next day, he tracked me down in my cubicle and said he wanted to be friends. Fast forward a few weeks, he asked if I've known him long enough to go on a date. I was bored and lonely, so I said ok. The end."
One side of Edward's mouth lifts in a cocky smile. "How can an obviously intelligent woman such as yourself be duped so easily?"
My eyes narrow. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Mike played you. I can almost guarantee he didn't bump into you by accident. It was planned. How else would he have found you the very next day? He already knew who you were and what floor you worked on."
My eyebrows rise. Edward is right. Why hadn't I seen it before?
"I wonder why he went through the trouble?" I murmur.
Edward's smirk disappears. "Something about you must have attracted him." He turns back around and starts paddling again. "Your turn."
"Right. Uh... I know! You can answer the question I asked earlier. Who's your type?"
"Pass," he says dismissively.
"Why won't you answer the question?"
"No reason. I just prefer to keep it to myself."
I'm weighing his words carefully. Recalling a past conversation with a certain someone, I decide to bring it up just to see Edward's reaction.
"Tanya thinks you're gay."
Edward spins around again like that cartoon Tasmanian Devil. "The fuck?" he blurts out.
"If you are, it's fine, Edward. Don't be ashamed of it."
His jaw clenches. "I. Am. Not. Gay." I'm opening my mouth to say something. He beats me to it. "And I'm not bi either, Bella. Just because I didn't sleep with Tanya doesn't mean I'm attracted to men."
I twist my mouth. "Oh. Good point."
"For the love of all that's holy, please ask me another question. I want to erase the last one you asked from existence."
"Ok, but my next question will be much worse. Are you sure you still want to pass?"
"Yes, I'm absolutely sure."
I lift the water bottle to my mouth and take a cooling sip while I contemplate what to ask. I grin once I've made up my mind.
"Here it is, Edward: How did you lose your virginity?"
He eyes me hard. "You are a cruel woman."
"This is punishment for not answering an easy question when you had the chance. Now, get talking."
He groans up at the sky before responding. "Her name was Mandy. She was my prom date."
I burst out into a giggle. "Wow, look at you! Edward Masen: high school cliché! Was it in the backseat of a car, or did you class up the experience by renting a hotel room for the night?"
"Hotel room," he grumbles.
I bat my eyelashes and clasp my hands together. "Aww! That's so sweet it's giving me cavities."
He continues to frown at me. "What about you, then?" he says. "What's your story?"
"You're asking me the same question?"
"I am. As you may recall, you agreed that I could."
"Well... my experience isn't as wholesome as yours," I tease. "I was a freshman at UDub who rarely dated. I was a bookworm, ok? Always studying. Anyway, when my friend group began referring to me as 'The Virgin Bella' - which was really annoying, if you must know - I decided right then and there that I should lose it before I got any older. So, a few days later, this guy who worked at the coffee shop I frequented asked me out for like the third time. I stopped giving him excuses and finally said yes. He took me back to his dorm, fed me Ramen, and took care of my virginity problem. He avoided me after that night. I guess I didn't meet his expectations." I shrug a shoulder. "Oh well. C'est la vie. The guy was decent enough, but he wasn't someone I would have wanted to see long term. He believed in astrology... like, really believed in it. I think one of the main reasons he never asked me out again was because my birth sign didn't mesh well with his."
Edward makes a face. It appears he just ate something sour. "That is the most fucked up date I've ever had the misfortune to hear about."
"Oh yeah? You think you could do any better? Where was the last place you took someone on a date?"
"I don't remember. I haven't dated in years."
"Seriously? Why?"
His gaze pierces into mine. "We've already discussed this before."
"Is it because of your ex?"
"No, it's because I don't have the time nor the energy to get to know someone only for them to stab me in the back. I'd rather stay single than ever go through that again."
Ok. So it is about his cheating ex in a way, even if he won't admit it.
"It's my turn to ask a question," he says suddenly.
"No, it's not."
"Yes, it is. You asked that question about dating and I answered."
He ignores the annoyed glare I give him. I didn't think the question I asked was part of our game, but I guess I'll go along with him to keep the peace.
"Where do you see yourself in six years?" he asks.
I huff out a laugh. "What is this, a job interview?"
"I'm only trying to come up with questions more interesting than 'what's your favorite color?' I thought you would have appreciated the effort I'm putting in."
"I do. I was only joking. Well, let's see... It depends on if you're asking what my dreams are or what reality will bring me."
"Hmm. Answer it both ways."
"Ok. My dream is to have a little family of my own. I want one or two kids, and a partner who isn't afraid of changing a dirty diaper. I want a career where I can work and raise my children at the same time without sacrificing anything. That's what I'd like to happen in six years." I slump in my seat. "But in reality, I'll probably be stuck forever on an island in the middle of the ocean. I'll be lucky if the monster crabs will at least let me pretend they're my offspring."
He turns to look at me. "That is bleak," he says. "What happened to positive thinking?"
"You're right. Excuse me. It's just..."
"I understand. You're allowed to be human, Bella. You can't be positive all the time."
I give him a weak smile in return. "What's your favorite movie?"
"I have more than one. It's The Lord of the Rings trilogy."
I do a double take. "Huh? The Lord of the... Edward, what the hell?! Just the other day you called me a nerd when you found out that I've read the books before!"
"I know I did." His eyes sparkle in the sun. "It's not my fault you never asked if I was a nerd too. How else would I have known about Ents?"
My jaw drops. Then, I smack my hand in the water, splashing him in the process. "You tricked me!"
He chuckles to himself. The sound wraps around my heart like a blanket.
"Sorry," he says. "But your tantrum that day was priceless. Who would have thought a word like nerd could trigger an adult woman to stomp her feet?"
I point at him, jabbing my finger like a knife. "You are a jerk!"
He chuckles again. The ridiculousness of the situation suddenly hits me. This time, I laugh too. We share a smile. It lingers even after our laughter dies.
"You suck, Masen," I tease.
He uses his hands to shrug. "Meh. I've had worse insults thrown at me. I can live with that."
I shake my head in amusement. He really isn't as bad as I once thought.
"I believe it's my turn to question you," he says once we've settled down. "Why did you develop an interest in the LOTR series?"
I cover my face. "Oh no." He's going to just love my answer. He'll get enough ammunition to tease me for days.
"Just tell me. I promise I won't make fun of you," he says.
"Yes, you will. Ok. Before I say anything, keep in mind that I was young and very impressionable at the time." I take in a breath. "So, I actually saw the movies before I read the books. And, I sort of developed a crush on one of the main characters on screen. I became mildly obsessed."
"Ah. Aragorn," he says with an eye roll.
"Aragorn is great, but it wasn't him."
Edward raises his eyebrows. "Legolas?"
"No."
"Frodo?"
"Nuh-uh."
"Sam? Merry? Pippin? Gandalf?"
"Nope, nope, nope, and nope."
Edward squints his eyes, visibly straining his brain. "Who else could it be?"
"You forgot Gimli."
"Gimli?" Just as I predicted, Edward starts chuckling. "You had a crush on that short, hairy dwarf?"
"Yes."
His chuckles turn into full on belly laughter. It lasts for way too long.
"It's not that funny, Edward. Gimli was sweet and brave... and all he ever wanted was a single hair from Lady Galadriel's head. That's true devotion if you ask me. Gimli is great boyfriend material."
Edward's stops laughing. His head tilts slightly as he considers what I said.
"Well...I admit Gimli's a step up from your last boyfriend. Mike has too much Orc in him to be taken seriously."
I smirk at his comment. "Orcs are monsters, Edward. And Mike is far from ugly."
"He's ugly on the inside."
The smile leaves my face. "I guess you're right." I pause for a moment, looking back on my recent past. "I can't believe I didn't see it sooner. Alice tried warning me about him, but I didn't want to accept she was right. When I told her about the engagement, she begged me to reconsider and called Mike a pompous prick."
Edward nods. "I like your sister."
"I do too. And if I ever get back home, I'm sure she'll be thrilled I left him."
"You're really planning on staying broken up?"
"Of course. Do you really think I would get back together with him after what he did?"
Edward shrugs. "I've seen it before. The guilty ex begs for forgiveness and asks for a second chance; their wronged partner caves from the pressure and takes them back. I'll give you an example. This husband and wife were passengers on my ship a few years back. They fought constantly. The husband had an affair with one of the other passengers and left the wife for the mistress. The very next year, the husband and wife were back on my ship saying they wanted a redo of their previous trip. The husband had realized how much he still loved his wife, and the wife took him back. So, reconciliation does happen."
"It's not happening this time, Edward. I don't care how much Mike begs. He and I are over."
He stares off into the distance, his expression indecipherable. "We'll see."
"Ugh! Enough about Mike. Let's get back to the game." My spirits improve when I think of a light-hearted question. "So, what's your favorite boy band?"
His lip curls. "None."
"That's not possible. My favorite is One Direction. And Emmett sang an awful lot of Backstreet Boys songs at his karaoke party. That couldn't be just a coincidence."
"That's because Emmett has no taste in music. He'll sing anything."
I cock my head in challenge. "Just tell me, Edward. Everyone has at least one boy band song they like."
"Not me."
"Oh, come on! You're lying. Is it a newer band, like BTS? A band from your childhood, like New Kids on the Block? Or, is it really old school...like The Beatles?"
His eyes flash like lightning. "The Beatles were not a boy band. They were musical geniuses ahead of their time."
"Pfft! They were the original boy band, Edward. Accept the facts. Girls went crazy for them. They wrote songs about holding hands, and not being able to buy love. If those aren't boy band traits, I don't know what is."
"Blasphemy," he mumbles. "Lennon must be spinning in his grave."
"Why would he care? He profited from the hype! If he was still alive, he'd probably be doing collaborations with Justin Timberlake and Harry Styles."
He groans and dips his oar into the water. "Can we move on to the next question? This one has depressed me."
"All right... but I'm marking down The Beatles as being your favorite boy band."
His groan is much louder this time. I can't help but laugh.
Just as I am opening my mouth to say how ridiculous he's being, a large blur leaps from the previously calm ocean. It's longer than our boat. A Great White has seized Edward's oar with a crunch. Edward tries to tug it from the monster's mouth but is unsuccessful. Row upon row of razor-sharp teeth reduces most of the oar to splinters.
Instinct has me grabbing a wooden spear. I scramble to Edward's side and lift my weapon high. When he glances over at me, his eyes nearly pop from their sockets. The pointed end of my spear comes down on the shark's sensitive gills. With a grunt, I stab with all my strength. The shark thrashes around like a worm on a hook. I yank the spear out. The creature sinks below the waves to where it belongs, leaving a trail of blood behind.
Stunned silence comes between the two of us. I'm still breathing hard when Edward smacks his hand down.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" he yells. "For a second, I thought you were going to stab me!"
"Oh, Edward. Don't be silly. I was protecting you."
"Protecting me? From what? The shark was only testing to see if the oar was food."
"Yeah, sure. And I guess Jaws would have 'tested' your arm next." I lay the spear down and take a seat. "The shark will be ok. It's basically just a big fish. The gills will heal up, and I'm sure it will live for many more years. But, hopefully, it will have at least learned not to go around biting everything it sees."
Edward runs a hand through his hair. "Unbelievable," he mutters under his breath. "She's terrified of a spider but fights off a fucking shark."
When I roll my eyes, my sight lands on something shining like a star on the horizon. I sit up straight, my mouth gaping at what I see.
The seventh and last island awaits.
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A/N-
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