“Totally,” Marko agrees.
“I dreamed that maybe I’d be a famous artist one day. But this is not the kind of attention I want right now.”
“I know you don’t,” Taylor says consolingly. “But you’ll be glad to hear—no one has linked Elliot the missing person with the illustrator behind your artwork.”
“Shit. I hadn’t even considered that.” My brain remembers work, and then money, and the countless responsibilities that are now landing on my shoulders, and I’m suddenly so, so tired again.
Marko holds his phone up. “Hank texted on his sister’s phone to give you her number, by the way.”
“Oh!” I realize I still don’t have a phone. “Can I text him back on yours?”
Marko nods and hands his phone over.
Elliot: i’m here! how are you, hank?
I’m hoping for an immediate response, but when it doesn’t come, I hand the phone back to Marko, trying not to feel disappointed. Hank is with his people. We both need to rest, sleep, eat. It’s reasonable that he isn’t texting me immediately.
But I’m used to him being close, his presence an assurance that I’m safe, and now I hate the silence between us.
It’s hard not to worry about him. What if he’s hurt or sick in ways we didn’t realize?
And it’s hard not to worry, also, that the reason he isn’t texting me immediately is because he doesn’t care about me anymore, that he’s mad at me for my big mistake. It would only make sense. We actively chose not to make any commitments, and there are serious consequences with his career to consider. Hell, we’re going to have to do a press conference together for damage control.
Hank wouldn’t ghost me, but what if this really is the end of our connection?
“I guess you and Hank got to know each other pretty well,” Marko says, prompting me.
I look up at my friends again, aware I was showing all my emotions on my face. “I don’t even know how to explain it. It was like nothing else existed except for us. And I guess I fell pretty hard for him.”
Marko tilts his head to the side. “Like, fell for him?”
I sit up and drink more water. “We had the most amazing sex of my entire life.”
“Oh my god,” Taylor says with a gasp. “You had desert island sex?”
“We had desert island sex,” I confirm, and Marko starts laughing.
“That’s one way to pass the time.”
“Are you together?” Taylor asks.
“No. I guess not. We always said it ends when we get off that island. But now that I’m back, I already miss him.”
I realize how much there is to talk about, a knot of emotions to untangle. My eyes glance across the posters and outfits that crowd the room, and I take it all in again.
“Hold on,” I say. “When is the drag rally?”
“Next week,” Marko answers.
“Next week! Oh my god! I’ve got so much to do.”
“No one expects you to follow through on your part,” Taylor says. “You need to rehabilitate. We weren’t even sure we were going to go through with it at all, if you hadn’t come back.”
“Luckily, poster-making and sewing are great outlets when I’m nervous,” Marko explains as he gestures around.
I shake my head. “No way can you cancel. It’s level-up summer, and we’re all in it together. Right?”
A desperate sense of urgency rises up in me. I can’t let my mess derail everyone’s plans. It’s time for me to take responsibility for my life, just like I did on the island. I know I can do this.
