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I shake the anger from my mind and shove the shoes back into my bag, grabbing a pair of chucks instead. He said he had obligations. I try to give him the benefit of the doubt, but as the days continue without a word from him, it’s hard to.
“What do you have against those shoes?” Halli jokes, slipping her gun in the holster hiding it under her shirt. She’s right. The shoes didn’t do a damn thing. Changing my mind a second time because, truthfully, the tennis shoes are a lot more comfortable. I slip them on, ignoring Halli’s questioning gaze.
“Allons-y!” I snap for us to leave, rushing past her out the door.
“I’m glad I learned French.” She listens, following me out. “For those times you pop in a word or phrase every now and then.”
“Sorry. I’m not aware I’m doing it most of the time,” I explain as we walk. “But at least I know to talk in Tahitian if I don’t want you knowing what I’m saying.”
“Well, maybe I know Tahitian too.”
I narrow my eyes. “Do you?”
She shrugs. “I’ll never tell.” Walking to the edge of the dock, she stares out at the water. “I can’t believe this was your back yard. It’s paradise.” I try to see at it through her eyes, but the emotional link is still raw. It was my prison.
“Perception changes when it’s all you have. Your picture and mine are different.” She slowly nods, trying to understand. She won’t no matter how hard she tries.
The boat glides into the dock. “Aspen!” Ari yells from behind the steering wheel. I smile and wave. Well, if Dante hasn’t heard I’m here, he will soon. We wait for the passengers to disembark before we step into the boat. Ari glances at Halli and then asks me where I’ve been in Tahitian. I laugh when she rolls her eyes.
“I’m moving to the United States.” His eyes widen. “I’ve come back to get some things.”
“Manu, I heard you and Dante got in a fight, but this is taking it to a whole new level.” I shake my head at the stupid nickname. Dante might have started it, but it didn’t take long for it to stick with all his friends.
I drop on a bench. “I’m not moving because of Dante.”
“It’s that American, huh? The one that throws balls.”
“No, Ari, it’s not,” I say with more agitation in my voice than necessary. “Do you mind dropping me off at my dock?”
He blinks at me. “You know it’s not…” Running his hand through his black hair, he thinks about how to tell me.
Helping with his unease, I reply, “I saw. What happened?”
“Happened in the middle of the night, a week ago, yesterday.” Right after I turned myself in. Maybe Halli was right. “Lit up the skies real fast. By the time they could put it out, it was all burned to the ground.”
“What has Dante said about it?”
He shakes his head like I did something wrong and then ignores me. Instead, talking to a couple that just boarded. Typical bro code, or whatever Dante used to call it, means he’s not giving me anything.
Once on the water, Halli asks, “Who’s Dante?”
“He’s the reason I left.”
She does a double-take. “Wait. They briefed me that you left the island to visit Ryker?”
I sigh, putting my crazy windblown hair up in a bun. “I did. But I was teetering on this line of whether or not I should go. Dante’s my best friend and we got in a brief fight before I left and it pushed me to go.” I feel bad about how we left things. And by how Ari is acting, he’s still not happy with me.
The salty air mixes with the smell of charcoal. The smell burns my throat and eyes. Once the scene is in front of me, a sob escapes and I cover my mouth as I fall to my knees. Sand softens the fall, but it’s the destruction that hurts my body.
"Why?" I cry out to no one. The only person who can answer, I won't ever see again. Halli gives me a couple silent minutes to myself before squatting down, wrapping her arm across my shoulders.
“You still want to do this?”
A snapping twig up the hill catches our attention and both our heads jerk up. She pulls out her gun, keeping it hidden behind her. Searching the wooded area behind where my house used to be, we don’t see anyone. Had she not heard it too, I would have thought I'd imagined it.
We stand up and she steps in front of me. “Come on out,” she says, spreading her feet apart and holding her gun out. “Or I can start shooting and you better hope I miss.” I dart my gaze to her.
“What are you doing?” I whisper-yell, lifting my hand to stop her, but then decide otherwise since she’s pointing a gun. Fear that it could be Dante spikes as I frantically search where she’s staring. Or nosy island kids. She’s taking her job to keep me safe way too seriously. No one here would hurt me.
