“Missy,” I say, leaning closer to her.
She doesn’t so much as stir.
“Missy,” I say again, this time louder.
Suddenly, Missy wakes, her bleary eyes blinking before she rolls off of me like a boneless sack of jelly.
“What in the Sam Hill? Why is your lap … Why was I …” She can’t finish a sentence, and what words she does string together are filled with practiced contempt. She’s half delusional and not in the right mindset to remember that we’re supposed to be falling for each other.
I smile softly at her.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she says, wiping drool off her face.
“Nothing, you’re just cute, is all.”
“Cute?” Her eyes narrow into slits.
I reach for her hand and squeeze, and in that moment, I can practically see her brain waking up.
“Oh, yes, you’re also very cute. So cute. And your scruff—”
“My scruff?”
“Yes, it’s so … scruffy.” She smiles and slaps my cheek two times, then grabs her bandana and backpack from the sand at my feet. “Good night, Colton.”
I laugh to myself as I watch her walk drunkenly back to the plane, thinking how adorable she is. Since when have I ever thought Missy adorable?
But then she trips on the sand at her feet and stumbles forward, nearly face-planting.
On instinct, a tease comes to my lips.
“Not a word, Colton Downing. Not a word,” she yells with her back to me.
I chuckle. Yes, as adorable as a vicious chihuahua.
Chapter 16
MISSY
· DAY 10 ·
I place my backpack at my feet as I stand inside the airplane’s galley, untwisting the cap of my aluminum water bottle and filling it from the water spout. Slowly, I blink my eyes, trying to bring my brain up to speed after dozing off on Colton’s lap, when I hear someone yelling. I peer out of the narrow galley and look down the row of bunk beds. Only Silver occupies a bed, and she’s fast asleep. It definitely wasn’t her shouting. So who?
I step farther out of the galley, trying to pinpoint who’d made the noise, when Tearjerker rounds the back of the plane and bulldozes right into me. His breaths are frantic, and his eyes are full of worry.
“What? What is it?” I ask, holding onto Tearjerker’s shoulder as he doubles over, trying to catch his breath. A sense of panic rises inside me as I watch him panting and wordless.
“Maria.” He swallows in a gulp of air, giving my mind just enough time to fill with a dozen worst-case scenarios.
“Maria, what? What’s wrong with Maria?” I beg.
“She … She got hurt.”
“How? Where?” Imagining Maria in pain sends an emotional shock wave through my system. My sleepiness is suddenly replaced by an unsettling fear. My grip tightens on Tearjerker’s shoulder. “Where is she?”
“Tide pools … the place Maria was talking about yesterday.” He straightens, but his chest rises and falls sharply. “Bill and Maria took me with them to the tide pools tonight, and while we were there, Maria slipped on the rocks. She’s bleeding.” He holds up his burnt and bandaged hand, as if this will explain everything. “I couldn’t help Bill carry her with my hand. So I … took a shortcut through the jungle … to get more help.”
“Show me where she is,” I say, desperate to aid my friend.
