Never Ever (15 page)

“I'm never going down to that basement again,” Wylie said in response.

“I'm afraid you don't have a choice,” Phinn said, holding her hand.

“You can't treat the girls like we're a bunch of damsels in distress. If we were on the mainland, it would be totally archaic to hide us away like we're some sort of liability. We shouldn't be left down there wondering if the worst is happening. We shouldn't have to worry that you all could be . . .” Wylie's voice trailed off.

What she'd really wanted to scream at Phinn in the middle of the dining room was, “How dare you make me love you, then put your life at risk?” But the voice she imagined coming out of her mouth sounded a lot like her mother's, so she held it back.

“Everything is going to be okay,” Phinn promised her. “Hopper can't keep hiding forever. We'll stop him from hurting us again.”

Phinn cupped her face in his hands.

“Wylie.” It felt so good every time he said her name.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

He almost seemed surprised as the words came out of his mouth. Like he hadn't planned to say them, but the moment had forced the truth out of him.

“I love you, too.”

She let the words hang there and bridge the divide between them.

“I need you to promise me something,” she said.

“Anything.”

“No more lies. No more covering up the truth. I don't care if you think it's for my own good. If you're ever dishonest with me again, we're over.”

“I'll never lie about anything again.”

“Can I sleep here tonight?” Wylie asked.

Phinn nodded. Wylie put both her hands on his bow tie and gently loosened it. She could see his shoulders start to relax now that he didn't feel like he was being strangled. He brought his lips toward her face, but she pulled away again. She didn't want to kiss him yet. She finally had the courage to look straight into his eyes. And she kept her eyes fixed on him as she started to unbutton his shirt. Phinn put his hands behind her neck and fumbled for the zipper on her dress. It would have been easier for him if she turned around, but she wasn't done looking at him yet.

She knew it was early in their relationship to take this step, but it didn't matter. There was no one here to judge her and no rumor mill she had to worry about, like she did back in high school. Even though they lived on an island where time didn't function the way it did in the rest of the world, life was still short. Everything could change at a moment's notice, just like it did that night in the Hamptons. She didn't want to waste another minute.

“Are you sure about this?” Phinn asked, unzipping her dress.

“Positive.”

As they melted onto his bed, Wylie decided that the few guys she'd hooked up with before no longer held significance. This was the only time she was giving herself to someone who knew there was more to Wylie Dalton than bright green eyes and pronounced dimples. Phinn knew the worst sides of her. He knew her mistakes and had witnessed her anger, and he wanted to be with her anyway. And she felt the same way about him.

trouble in paradise

“what
was that?” Phinn asked.

“Nothing,” Wylie answered.

“Was that your . . . stomach?”

“No!” Wylie pulled the blankets over her face and hid underneath them. Phinn slid down on the mattress and met her under the covers.

“That was definitely your stomach!” he teased.

Wylie placed both hands on her belly. Her stomach had a tendency to growl at the most inopportune times: in the middle of a final, during her first gyno appointment, throughout the eulogy at her grandfather's funeral. And now it had betrayed her again, in bed with her boyfriend. Why had no one invented a way to prevent belly groans from embarrassing the hell out of you?

“I'm hungry,” Wylie explained. “I barely got a chance to eat last night, with all the commotion.”

Grrrrrrrrr
. Another rumbling sound filled the room, but this time it didn't come from Wylie.

“That wasn't me!” Wylie announced proudly. “That was totally your stomach.”

“I know. They're talking to each other. Listen.”

They both lay quietly as their stomachs continued to creak and moan like an old house settling.

“What do you think they're saying?” Wylie asked.

“Mine says, ‘I can't believe this amazing girl told me she loves me last night,'” Phinn translated.

“Mine says, ‘How can we get some food delivered to this bungalow so we can stay in bed all day?'”

“Your stomach knows what it's talking about.”

Now that the sun was up, they could hear the rest of the island rising. Bungalow doors opened and closed as locals made the walk to the dining room for their first meal of the day. Luckily, Wylie and Lola had planned for this. A continental breakfast was the only way to go the morning after prom if they wanted to enjoy themselves and not wake up at the crack of dawn to collect eggs and cook omelets for a bunch of starving, hungover teenagers.

But even though she didn't have to get up, Wylie wanted the noises from outside to go away. She could hear bits and pieces of people's conversations as they walked past Phinn's window, recounting the drama of last night. She didn't want to think about any of that right now. Not the explosion, or the fact that kids on the island had gone missing, and definitely not the impending threat. Right now all she wanted to do was stay in bed with Phinn and pretend none of that had ever happened. The only memories she wanted to keep
from prom were exchanging “I love you”s and spending the night together.

“Are you feeling okay?” Phinn asked.

“I'm just thinking about last night.”

“I'm gonna recruit a team. We're going to do another search for Hopper's boat. He can't hide forever. We'll track him down eventually.”

“Just don't send my brothers to find him. Joshua will want to go, but you can't let him. It's not his battle to fight. We don't even know Hopper.”

“I won't let Joshua do anything that puts him at risk. You have my word on that.”

Wylie sighed. “We can't stay in bed all day, can we?”

“I'm afraid not. I need to make sure everyone's okay after what happened. Try not to wander around alone. Stick with your brothers if you have to. There's safety in numbers.”

“There's safety in pepper spray. I never left home without it in New York. I tossed mine in a drawer when I got here because I didn't think I'd need it.”

“Maybe for now, it's not such a bad idea.”

Wylie was suddenly struck by a thought: what if Micah wanted to go home now? Back home, her brother had been diagnosed with anxiety disorder. Living here seemed to remedy his symptoms, but that was before they knew a major kidnapping had been committed. Without knowledge of the lost kids, the Daltons had agreed to live on the island under false pretenses. If they insisted on returning home now, surely Phinn would have to make an exception. And Micah wasn't always rational when he was afraid. If he thought his
life was in danger, Wylie's youngest brother might try to sail away in the middle of the night.

“I should check on Joshua and Micah and see how they're holding up after last night.”

“Good idea,” Phinn answered.

Wylie slipped out of bed and put her prom dress back on. Once she got to her room and changed out of it, she would never wear it again. It didn't feel right to keep it, when it belonged to someone else. Her feet still ached from wearing high heels, so she decided to walk back to her bungalow barefoot.

“I wish we could hide out here a little longer,” Phinn said.

“Me too,” Wylie replied.

Phinn grabbed her by the hand and pulled her back into bed.
Kissing him will never get old,
Wylie thought. Fifty years was considered an eternity to be married in normal people time, but with the way time functioned on the island, Wylie and Phinn could be together for twice that long. But in ten decades, Phinn would be as beautiful and energetic and strong as he was right now.

“You're making it impossible to leave,” Wylie whispered between kisses.

“I know. That's the point.”

They kissed some more until Phinn pulled away. He hopped off the bed and took a painting from the wall. Behind it was a tiny cupboard.

“What are you doing?” Wylie asked.

“I want to give you something.”

Phinn fished a key from inside his desk drawer and used it to unlock the cabinet. Inside Wylie glimpsed a stack of photographs, a worn-out teddy bear, and a rusted cigarette case. He took out the cigarette case, locked the cabinet, and sat down next to her.

“I keep my prized possessions in there,” he explained. “They're artifacts from when we first came to the island. The teddy bear was the only toy I had with me and there are a few things that belonged to my parents.”

Phinn handed her the cigarette case. “Open it.”

A tiny antique hand mirror, strung on a silver chain, glittered inside. “It's an old family heirloom that belonged to my mom,” Phinn explained. “It's one of the only things I have of hers. I want you to have it.”

“I couldn't possibly—” Wylie started to say, but Phinn cut her off.

“Don't argue. It's been gathering dust in there for years. I'd rather have someone I love wear it.”

“I don't know what to say.”

Wylie swept up her hair as Phinn helped her clasp both sides of the chain together. The mirror hung right below the hollow of her neck.

“Thank you, Phinn. I will never take it off.”

“Every time I look at it, I'll remember how I see things so much clearer with you in my life.”

Wylie toyed with the charm with her thumb and index finger as she left Phinn's room and walked back to her bungalow.

Living in Manhattan, she'd borne witness to more than a few walks of shame. They usually happened on Sunday
mornings. Messy hair, smudged eyeliner, a dress way too sexy for a brunch date. The men and women usually kept their heads down as they paid the cab driver and walked up their stoops. Wylie hadn't expected the stroll to her bungalow to feel like a walk of shame, but as residents passed her on their way to breakfast, they didn't even try to mask their judgment. She knew exactly what the whispers and stares meant: none of them thought she was good enough for Phinn, especially after she confronted him in public last night.

It doesn't matter what they think
,
Wylie kept repeating in her head, but the truth was, she hated that she couldn't separate her romance with Phinn from her friendships with the other kids. She was starting to feel like she could single-handedly bring down Hopper and they'd still think Phinn could do better.

Once she had a little time to hide in her bungalow and decompress from the walk home, Wylie braved the outdoors again to check on her brothers.

“You guys can't stay mad at me forever,” Joshua said as he let Wylie in.

“You lied to us,” Wylie argued.

“And so did Phinn, but from what I hear, you've forgiven him.”

“Phinn was wrong to lie,” Wylie admitted. “But you're our brother. You should have warned us that our lives could be in danger.”

Joshua tried to explain his rationale for keeping the secret. He was following orders; he didn't want to scare them; if he was president of the United States, there'd be plenty
of classified information he wouldn't be allowed to tell his family. Wylie realized she was making him grovel, because for once, it was nice that he had to be the one to apologize for something.

“It's okay,” she finally said. “I get it.”

“I do, too,” Micah agreed. “Tinka also kept it from me all this time. If I'm not going to hold it against her, I'm not going to hold it against my own brother. Just don't let it happen again, or I will shave your head in your sleep.”

Joshua agreed that the previous night's developments provided them with a loophole to return to New York, but none of the Daltons were in the mood for a drawn-out debate about whether they should stay on the island. Instead, they agreed to write “stay” or “go” on a piece of paper. This way, they could each answer honestly without feeling bullied into an opinion.

Wylie was the first to drop her piece of paper into a jar. Joshua dropped his response in next. Micah hesitated for a few minutes before jotting down a word and tossing his answer in.

“Who wants to do the honors?” Wylie asked.

Joshua stuck his hand into the jar and took out the first scrap of paper. He read it out loud: “Wylie votes to stay.”

He grabbed another piece of paper and slowly unrolled it. “This one's mine,” he said. “I vote we stay.”

Joshua tilted the jar, and the last piece of paper fell into his palm.

“It's unanimous,” he said. “We all want to stay.”

Wylie left their bungalow feeling good about their decision. After all, New Yorkers didn't move out of the city
for fear of terrorist attacks, and Californians thought the sunshine was a fair trade-off for the occasional earthquake. Every place had its drawbacks, and Minor Island's was Hopper. Eventually, they would capture him, ending his reign of terror, and everyone could go back to being a carefree teenager. In the meantime, Wylie would do her part to help.

Compared to most of her classmates in New York, Wylie didn't consider herself the activist type. She had plenty of opinions, but never felt compelled to march down the street holding a sign. She even rolled her eyes when her classmates filled her newsfeeds with trendy political hashtags. Vanessa could post about the environment till the cows came home, but she never even bothered to recycle. But if no one else was going to effect change, then Wylie had no choice but to do something.

“I don't know,” Lola said when she heard Wylie's idea. “It's a big risk.”

“Come on, Lola, please. I can't do it without you. Everyone is still figuring out if they like me. But if you're with me, they'll get on board.”

“It's dangerous. You know that, right?”

“I do, but I think it's worth it.”

“Fine. I'll do it. For Charlotte,” Lola said. “If she were still here, she'd be all for it.”

“I'm sorry about what happened to her,” Wylie replied, not sure what the appropriate thing was to say. No wonder Lola had been hesitant to get to know her when she'd moved in.

“I should have told you the truth. Phinn didn't want to
scare you all off. It was stupid of me to lie, but if it helped keep you here, I'm kind of glad I did. I really can't imagine this place without you now.”

“This is my home. I'm never going anywhere else.”

“Good.”

“So . . . on a scale of one to complete and total terror, how scared should I be of Hopper?”

“We should all be extra cautious. But we can't just hide in our rooms in fear. And anyway, the island knows how to protect us from predators.”

“It does?” Wylie asked.

“That's what my tribe always said. My parents told me those who don't respect the island would meet an untimely demise. I'll admit, I've never seen it happen. Maybe they were making up stories, but I choose to believe them. After all, this place is magical.”

“Yes, it is,” Wylie replied. She took some comfort in Lola's words, even if it was just an old family legend.

Once Lola agreed to Wylie's plan, the two of them knocked on the door of every bungalow that belonged to a female resident.

“How do you feel about hiding out in the basement?” Wylie asked each girl who opened the door. The answer was always some variation of “I hate it” or “it's scary in there” or “that place gives me panic attacks.”

Next, Wylie presented each girl with a hammer and a handful of nails and invited her to meet her and Lola in the dining room in exactly one hour.

Most of the girls showed up right on time. Even Tinka
didn't refuse the invitation. Curiosity was a great way to mobilize the masses. Wylie stood onstage, above the basement they'd all been crammed into together.