I stare at her for a moment, trying to assess whether she’s being entirely truthful. She’s not making eye contact, so my gut is telling me she may have eaten some, but I can’t exactly accuse her of it, now can I? “Thank God, because if you had, in about six to twelve hours, you’d be sicker than you’ve ever been in your life.”
She grabs the pot out of my hands and tosses the berries into the brush, then turns back with an overly enthusiastic smile. “Good thing I didn't eat them, then.”
“You sure you didn’t try even one? You can tell me if you did.”
“I’m not so stupid that I’d eat something without checking with you first,” she says, looking thoroughly offended.
“Sorry. I know you wouldn’t.” I give her an apology kiss, but her response seems stiff. “You okay?”
“Terrific.” Closing her eyes, she brushes her lips against mine. “How about we make use of our last few hours here? I want to drink in every drop of my escape before it has to end.”
* * *
We lay naked in each other's arms, recovering. Arabella doesn't have that dreamy smile she normally has at this moment, and I can tell something is off. I pull her close to me and kiss her on the forehead. “Listen, I think I know exactly how you feel.”
“I don’t think you do.”
“You’re a little sad that our time alone out here has to end so soon. I am too, but just because we’re leaving doesn’t mean we won’t see each other again.”Do not make promises you can’t keep, dummy.“I mean, I think there’s a really good chance the show is going to be a hit. If that’s the case, maybe we can travel the world together, sneaking away from real life, and filming more seasons?”
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.”
