“I am suspicious.”
“You’re eighteen,” Amber said. “Try looking legally mysterious instead.”
The boat pulled away from the dock while Amber was still taking pictures. The marina slid behind us, all white hulls and waving tourists and bright buildings stacked against the coast. Wind rushed over the deck, lifting my hair and tugging at the ridiculous birthday sash Regan had forced over my cover-up.
I should have felt exposed.
Instead, I felt something dangerously close to happy.
Not pure happy. I didn’t know if pure happy existed for people like us. This was messier. Salt-stung. Bruised around the edges. But it was real. Edge was here. Tarak was here. Amber was here. Regan had somehow smuggled a birthday party into a crisis. The ocean was impossibly blue, and for once, no one was whispering where I couldn’t hear.
“What about Mason and Sienna?” I asked as we left the last crowded docks behind.
Regan made a face.
Edge suddenly became very interested in the horizon.
Tarak coughed.
I looked between them. “What?”
Regan slid her sunglasses down her nose. “You might not want to talk to Sienna for a while.”
My stomach dropped. “Why?”
“She’s not mad at you exactly.”
“That means she is one hundred percent mad at me.”
“She’s a scientist. They hold grudges differently.”
“Oh no.”
“Apparently,” Regan said, drawing the word out, “some of her soil samples were in the burned area.”
I winced.
“And cactus plants.”
I winced harder.
“And habitat markers.”
“Stop.”
“And something about six months of field work.”
I covered my face. “I’m going to throw myself overboard.”
Edge grunted. “Don’t. Then we’d have to rescue you, and I don’t trust these flipper things.”
“You mean fins?” Amber asked.
“I said what I said.”
Regan smirked. “Sienna understands the circumstances.”
“She understands,” Tarak said dryly, “while being furious.”
