Page 36 of The Wild Beneath

“When can I see you?” Evan whispers. “There’s a party tonight at Courtney’s cabin on Goose Island.”

“I don’t even know who Courtney is.”

“Come with me. We can catch up—­” He’s interrupted by a ping. Evan pulls a device from the back pocket of his jeans. It’s foreign to Annie; neither Ruth nor Annie’s parents wanted a cell. Ruth says they’re addictive. Evan swipes, scans a message, then slides it away. “Sorry,” he murmurs.

Where did he go, just then? He wasn’t with her. “I better stay here,” she says.

“Will you at least think about it?” He squeezes her arm and lets his hand linger there.

“Can you imagine me at a party? Look at me.”

His eyes narrow. “I’m always looking at you.”

“Except when you’re not.”

He straightens. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’d better go now.” She turns. “You’ll be late for work.”

“Annie. Stop.” He reaches around her waist, closer, bringing her back toward him. She’s wanted those hands on her for so many months. But now a wedge has lodged between them. “What’s this about?”

She can’t bring herself to ask about the girl over his shoulder at the beach. She stares at the deck instead, at the worn teak under her feet, until he pulls her toward him. Inside his arms, all she feels is his heartbeat, his breath against her cheek, her face tucked between his jaw and his collarbone.

“Please just think about it. Dad’s away and you can stay at our place after,” he says.

Annie feels butterflies in her stomach at the idea of being alone with him.

“And it would be good practice, to meet some people, right?” he asks.

“Practice?”

Before he can answer, Mara comes back up with a steaming cup in her hands. “Better get going, Evan,” she says. “Your dad will be wondering where you are.”

By lunchtime, Annie’s been round and round about what to do. She’s always been scared of going ashore, but finally she works up the nerve to ask.

“No,” Mara sighs. “The Chinook are still running. We’re heading back up the channel this afternoon.”

“So soon?”

“She could stay for the party and sleep at Ruth’s tonight,” Aiden says.

Mara gives him a fierce look. “Leave her behind?”

“She’s nineteen, Mar.”

“I don’t want us to be apart.”

“We can’t lock her up here forever. She’s an adult.”

Annie lies flat on the cockpit bench, trying not to listen to the harsh whispering between Aiden and Mara down below.

When they emerge on deck, Aiden stands unusually firm. “You should go, Annie. It’s your life and you need to make your own decisions.”

Mara sighs.

“It’s normal,” Aiden says. “Past due.”

“But you’re sailing out,” Annie says.