Then he pulls a quarter of a bar of milk chocolate from his backpack. The label reads, “Godiva.”
“You havechocolate?” I stare at the candy as if it werea mirage sure to disappear any second. “Where did you get that?”
“I found it in a tent when I was searching for supplies, before you got back to the bunkhouse.”
I smack him on the shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You can’t eat much of it anyway, so I was saving it for a special occasion.” He unfolds the wrapper and begins breaking the bar into chunks, which he wedges between the halves of both bananas, alternating with the bits of marshmallow. “My mom calls these banana s’mores. My dad calls them bonfire banana boats.” He shrugs. “I just eat them.”
Luke pushes more twigs into the camp stove, then sits back and smiles at me. “You’re supposed to set them in cradles made of aluminum foil, but we make do with what we have.”
Within minutes, the banana peels blacken. The chocolate is shiny and melted, and the marshmallow bits are gooey. The aroma isamazing.
Luke carefully pulls the banana boats from the grill, touching only the ends, and balances each on top of one of our empty cans, since we have no plates. We blow on them to help them cool. “Normally, we would scoop out bites with plastic spoons, but since we have no actual utensils ...” He shrugs and pulls Moisés’s multi-tool from his pocket. “We’ll have to make do with this.” He flips out one of the tools and shows me a shallow metal spoon.
I frown. “That would have come in handy for our soup.”
“Yeah, but I forgot I had it.”
We take turns eating, blowing on each steaming spoonful, and when we get down to the last bite, I scoop it up and feed it to him.
Luke looks at me as if I’ve just offered him the entire world. He smiles, and I’m mesmerized by a smear of chocolate on his lower lip.
I lean toward him, and his mouth opens. “Dibs on the last of the chocolate,” I whisper as I wipe the smear away. Then I suck my thumb clean.
Luke’s groan follows me as I head back to the stream for more water.
GENESIS
“I don’t know what to do,” I admit as the crackling fire pit sends sparks up into the night, and the confession feels even more disappointing knowing that Indiana thinks of me as the moon. As a force of nature capable of bending the entire world to my will.
I haven’t felt so frustrated and powerless since I was a kid.
Since the night my mother died.
Indiana threads his fingers between mine and kisses my knuckles.
Under normal circumstances, I’d call a campfire and a beautiful boy I actually like the perfect spring break combination. Even if Holden does shoot bitter glances at us every time Penelope looks away. But the fact that we’re sitting twenty feet from a dozen terrorists and a tent full of bombs paints somewhat of a bleak filter over an otherwise exquisite moment.
“There’s a way out of this,” Indiana insists. “We just haven’t thought of it yet.”
“You’re right about running. The problem isn’t that they have me, it’s that they have explosives,” I whisper with aglance at the green tent. “That’swhat we need to take away from them. No explosives, no terrorism, right?” My hand tightens around his as the solution finally becomes clear. “I have to detonate the bombs.”
Indiana shakes his head. “G, that’s suicide. Even if you survive the explosion, they’ll kill you.”
I exhale slowly. Then I scoot closer to whisper. “What are the alternatives?” Other than following through on my threat to my father. “I’m going to die either way. At least this way, I’ll have taken their arsenal with me.”
“Genesis ...” Indiana whispers, and for the first time since he saw me kneel on the edge of that cliff, I see fear in his eyes.
Fear for me.
“This is the only way we can stop them.”
Finally he leans closer until his cheek brushes mine, and that ghost of a touch makes me shiver. “I’m in.”
I pull back until I can see his eyes, and I wish we were anywhere else in the world. I wish I’d dumped Holden on the beach in Tayrona, and never followed Nico into the jungle, but the thing I can’t wish, even now, is that I’d never come to Colombia.
If I hadn’t come to Colombia, I would never have met Indiana.
