Shining Sea (8 page)

TARRADIDDLE

“Arion!”

I whirl around. At the same moment, the sun slips from the sky.

Alyssa is coming down the dusky beach with Pete and Bobby.

With a sort of desperateness I spin back—

Bo is gone.

A sound of frustration slips from between my lips. “He moves like magic,” I mutter.

“What did you say?” Alyssa asks as she arrives at my side.

“Nothing,” I answer quickly. But I can’t meet her gaze.

“Party girl, where’ve you been?” Pete says.

“Yeah, everyone’s like, where’s Arion? Isn’t this her shindig?” Bobby adds.

“Really? Sorry. Didn’t mean to be gone so long—”

Pete shoves Bobby. “Bob’s just goofing on you, but if you want any food . . .”

“What were you and Bo Summers talking about?” Alyssa demands.

What can I possibly tell her? That Bo saved my life but doesn’t want to be my friend? No, I can’t talk about him, no way. But . . . I bet she can.

Linking my arm through hers, I start walking. “Bo’s kind of cute, don’t you think?” I ask in a low voice, so the boys won’t hear as they walk behind us.

“
Kind of?
Kind of, if you’re blind. He’s gorgeous.” Alyssa lifts her chin, as if positioning herself as the expert in this area. “So what were you guys talking about?”

“Not much. I asked him about the waves.”

“You asked him about
the waves
?” She gives a little snort.

“I did consider asking him if he snacked on magnets.”

She laughs. Point for me.

“You think he’s a hottie, don’t you?” she says, tossing her dark hair. “Trust me, he’s a snob. He won’t ask you out. He doesn’t go out with anyone.”

“Sounds like you know him well.” I file away the info.
He doesn’t go out with anyone.

“I do. Well, I—we—haven’t ever . . . Everyone knows him,” she finishes irritably.

Huh.
Didn’t I just hear that?

People have dragged logs they found stacked up against the bottom of the bluffs over to the fire pit, where they’re being used for benches and backrests. I sit on the sand and hold out my hands to the flames. Alyssa veers over to the opposite side, sitting down between Sarah Hisano—a girl with long, enviably straight peacock-blue hair and narrow, fiercely beautiful kohl-rimmed eyes—and a guy I vaguely recognize from English class. Mary’s Kevin seems to be in charge of the cooking. She’s handing out paper plates.

Looks like Logan left, which makes me a total jerk.
Damn.
Hugging my knees to my chest, I stare into the fire.

Mary appears next to me with her pile of plates. “Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. He’s handled way worse.” Kevin’s close behind her with a platter of hamburgers.

I’ve handled worse too. I’ve just never hurt a friend through sheer idiocy. “Not hungry.”

She pushes a plate at me, and Kevin slides a burger onto it. “Eat,” she says. “Seriously, whatever happened between you guys down the beach? He can take it.”

A few people start talking about tomorrow’s test. The exam is a sort of triathlon. Three boats, three skill sets. We have to pass in order to place into Advanced Oceanography next semester and continue on in marine sciences senior year.

I wish I could lie to myself. Pretend I’m not afraid. But if I play my mental “changing radio stations” game now, my fears might bust out on the boats, create chaos for me. I have to at least own it. I’m scared shitless.

The fire’s suddenly too hot—its flames shooting up into the night. I lean back, glancing at the sky. There’s no moon tonight, and as the clouds move in on the wind, the stars wink out, one by one, as if the darkness is slowly smothering them. Not a welcome thought, but it comes unbidden, as do Lilah’s written words.

I am waiting.

I look around the circle at the people I know, the few that I don’t. How will I find the boy she met here on Rock Hook? Or maybe he’s not a boy at all; maybe she met a man.
Oh, Lilah.

Blink; flash.
The long narrow beam of the lighthouse reaches out over the black beach toward the waves and my thoughts shift back to Bo. Is he watching the beacon tonight from Summers Cove?

As if my thoughts have moved through the misty salt air, the guy sitting next to Alyssa says, “I wonder who’s looking at the light tonight. I mean, who’s this lighthouse
for
anymore?”

Alyssa inches closer to him—she’s definitely giving him the eye. “It’s for us, for our personal entertainment.”

Sarah of the blue hair shuffles the layers of bracelets she wears on both arms.

“I’ve always wondered why Rock Hook Lighthouse is here,” she says. “This isn’t exactly the most dangerous place. When was the last time a boat wrecked anywhere near Rock Hook?”

The question hangs in the air for a second before the breeze takes it—

And blows it toward the shadows, one of which answers.

“Three weeks ago.”

Separating himself from the night, Logan steps forward, his expression tenebrous in the firelight. Obviously this isn’t the time to ask if he’s still pissed at me.

“It was a fishing boat,” he says, addressing the crowd. “Up from Portland.”

“What are you talking about, Logan?” Mary’s tone is skeptical.

“The mayor tried to hush it up, tried to keep the media from covering the story. I’d say he was pretty successful.”

Logan’s answer hits me hard.
No one knows the story of the four missing boys?

“Be serious,” Mary says. “How can the mayor keep the papers from printing a story like that? Why would he? And what exactly happened to this boat?”

“The ‘why’ is easy,” Logan says. “Think about it. What happens next summer?”

“That’s crazy,” Mary replies. “The mayor wouldn’t try to keep a story out of the papers because he’s afraid of losing tourist dollars. Besides, I don’t think one accident will keep vacationers away from Rock Hook National Seashore when it finally opens.”

“Funny,” Logan muses, “how some people, like the mayor, want to share Rock Hook with as many people as possible, as many tourists as this place will hold, no matter what kind of secrets they have to keep
.
While other people want the crowds to stay
away
from Rock Hook, no matter what kind of secrets
they
have
to keep.” He scowls, looking around the circle, as if trying to determine who belongs in which camp.

The group bursts into conversation. “Secrets? What’s he talking about?”

“When Rock Hook becomes another tourist trap . . .”

“The mayor? I’ll ask my mom, she’ll know.”

“You haven’t given us any details about this mysterious accident,” Mary says to Logan, and everyone looks at her now. “Was anybody hurt? Obviously none of us heard about it—maybe you’ve got it wrong. Rock Hook Harbor is a small town. People get bored. Rumors fly.”

“Ha—who could possibly get bored around here?” Alyssa says, jostling Sarah.

Sarah, her hair shoved behind her shoulders now so that she’s rendered nearly invisible against the night in her black outfit, pushes back. Alyssa makes the most of it, falling into the boy next to her.

“You know what I mean,” Mary continues. “‘The one that got away,’ that kind of thing. Probably just another Big Fish story, Logan, probably nothing.”

“Mary, four guys gone missing is not
nothing
.” He looks across the fire at me. “They only found their boat, just their boat—with a bunch of holes in it. That’s something. Something bad. Someone
murdered
those kids.”

I look away, heart hammering as I squeeze two cool handfuls of sand.
Am I really the only one here besides Logan who knows about the
Lucky
?

Two boys sitting next to me begin whispering to each other. “He’s paranoid,” says one.

“Yeah,” says the other. “This sounds like one of his conspiracy theories.”

“Right, like when his brother—”

I glare at the boys and they stop, but I feel bad for Logan. I want to defend him, to tell everyone that he’s right: someone
did
sink the
Lucky
.
But Dad asked me not to talk about it. He said the Coast Guard didn’t have all the facts, and that folks around here didn’t need to get upset all over again. At the time, I didn’t know what he meant. I didn’t know—he was talking about Logan’s brother.

“It happened at Devil’s Claw,” Logan says suddenly. Everybody stops talking. The sound of crashing waves echoes off the bluffs. “And Sarah,” Logan looks down at her, “to answer your question, that’s why the lighthouse is
here
. The end of the Hook, where the lighthouse was supposed to have been built, where it was needed the most, is such a hazard they couldn’t put the light station there. No one can build anything at the tip of the peninsula.”

“That’s true,” Pete says. “It’s like bizarro world out there. The tides are weird. The waves are gnarly. Plus it’s rocky as hell. Even with modern nav systems, boats still use the lighthouse to steer clear of the tip of Rock Hook, ’cause even the best equipment fails at Devil’s Claw.”

“If the guys who built Rock Hook Light, Standard Smith and his partner—” Logan stops for a second, then continues, “the rest of his party, if they’d succeeded in constructing the lighthouse at Devil’s Claw, it would be totally lost to the sea by now instead of simply missing its . . . twin, the second tower.” He pauses again, and I think he’s finished with the disturbing history lesson. But then he goes on, talking about how Smith vanished, disappeared without a trace. And finally he says, “All you have to do is dig. You’ll find a whole lot of strange stories about Devil’s Claw and the rest of the coast along this part of Maine. There are more drownings, more unexplained boating accidents around here than any other place on the entire East Coast.”

“The water can be treacherous around here for sure,” Mary says. “But ever since OZI got together with the state to help regulate usage and protect certain areas, keeping boats
out
of those areas, things have changed. This part of the coast—”

“Riiight, we have the Clean Ocean Zone now, to
protect
the
coast
.” Logan’s voice oozes sarcasm. “Bet you and Arion’s new boyfriend could have a nice chat about what a good job OZI’s doing with that.” Logan turns and walks away, leaving for real this time.

Part of me wants to run after him, to apologize for earlier. Another part of me wants to run after him so I can kill him.

“So there
is
something going on between you and Bo,” Alyssa huffs. “I knew it.”

I’m thinking I’ll have to grab one of the shovels the boys used to build the fire pit to dig my way out of this when Bobby unknowingly helps me out, announcing that he’s hitting the road. Mary gives me a hand as well.

“Arion, do you have a copy of O’Keefe’s requirements for the term paper?”
Go,
she mouths.

“Sure—I’ll get it.” Grabbing Dad’s trays, I run toward the steps.

Behind me people start gathering belongings, dumping ice out of coolers. They’ll be a while, but Mary catches up with me at the bottom of the stairs.

“Hey, do you have something to tell me about Bo Summers?” she asks.

“Do you know
him
?
”

“Everyone knows him.”

I stare at her. “We need to talk.”

“We do. But first, go after Logan, will you?”

Our eyes lock. Either Mary’s more concerned about Logan than she let on, or she’s become more concerned after hearing what he said at the bonfire.

“I’ll make sure he’s okay. Don’t worry.”

I give her a quick hug, then race up the steps.

QUESTIONS

By the time I reach the top of the stairs, Logan’s backing down the driveway.

“Hey,” I shout, trotting alongside the truck. The night can’t end this way, all dark mysteries and implied accusations. “Logan, wait!”

He stops and rolls down his window the rest of the way. “Wait, what?”

“Just
wait
.” I lean against the driver’s side door, trying to catch my breath. “Bo Summers—you know he’s not my boyfriend.”

Logan mutters something that might be,
Not yet.

“Oh, come on. And what was that about, at the bonfire?”

“You knew about the fishing boat, Arion?” Feeling caught, I nod. “From your dad?”

“Yes.” I try unsuccessfully to read the complicated expression on Logan’s face.

“You didn’t find out from Summers?”

I look at him quizzically. “No. Bo and I—” The anger in his eyes catches me up short. “Logan, I’m sorry, about earlier. I should have walked back with you, I just . . .”

Logan leans back in his seat. “You just, what?”

“I just—nothing.” What am I supposed to say?
I just wanted to talk to Bo for a second. He’s my neighbor.
Lame. How about,
I just—am so attracted to Bo Summers I’d blow off even my best friend so I could hold his mysterious hand for less than a minute
. Great. “I’m sorry,” I repeat.

“Hmm. Whatever.”

Shifting the empty trays, I ask, “Are you still picking me up tomorrow? For the exam?”

“Of course. What’s with your car again?” Logan sounds suspicious, like he thinks maybe the Jeep is fine, that I just want a ride because I need my hand held, which I do.

“It’s being cranky. I’ll tell you about it in the morning.”

“Okay. Pick you up around eight thirty.”

“Thanks.” Getting through the test might be hard, but at least I’d be there. “Good night.”

“Sleep tight.”

A faint version of his smile appears and I feel my shoulders relax. Stepping back from the truck, I watch as the red taillights disappear into darkness.

The relief I feel at seeing even part of Logan’s wide grin is no surprise. Tonight I discovered just how much I care about him.

Even if I don’t understand half of what he says.

The wind gusts around me. Balancing the trays, I reach up for my hood—then let my hand fall.

How had Logan found out about the
Lucky
?

Maybe more importantly, why did he think I’d learned about the boat from Bo?

The group from the beach straggle up the steps and begin their goodbyes. “Is everything cool with Logan?” Mary asks.

“Why, is Delaine pissed or something?” Kevin laughs. “’Cause that’d be different.”

Mary had warned me that her Kevin wasn’t a big fan of Logan; now she winks at me.

I grin. “Everything’s fine. How about with you guys?”

Swaying slightly, Kevin twines his arms around Mary and buries his face in her neck.

“Um—ooh.” Mary starts to giggle. “We’re good. But we’re gonna go now.”

“Yeah, that might be best.” I laugh.

She pushes Kevin toward the passenger side of his parents’ Prius, then turns and waves.

In another minute, the car vanishes down the drive and I’m left alone with the wind, wishing I’d asked her,
Why does Logan hate Bo so much?