Page 92 of The Pilot

“They’ll find us. If your dad knows people, he’ll stop at nothing to figure out where you are. And I know Linc and his brothers will do the same. We just have to hang on until they get here. Just think of the stories we’ll have to tell our kids. Not our kids—you know, yours and mine together. But, you know, our kids in general.”

She giggled. “I know what you meant.”

“You aren’t my type,” Kash blurted.

“You aren’t mine either. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, right?”

Friends. Huh. Never in a million years would Kash have thought he’d hear one of the popular girls in school call him a friend. And mean it.

“Right,” he agreed. “It doesn’t feel quite as cold out this morning. Maybe we can sit by the dock for a while later, after the sun’s fully up. Maybe we’ll get lucky and see a boat or something.”

“Sure,” Ginger agreed. “But . . . first I gotta pee.”

Kash grinned. “I’ll take care of the dishes,” he said, lifting the empty can with the two spoons inside.

“We’re so domestic,” Ginger joked.

Kash walked into the small kitchen and put the empty can into a trash bag he’d found under the sink. Then he used a paper towel to clean off the spoons as best he could. It wasn’t completely sanitary, but he had no water to waste on dishes.

Ginger returned after a few minutes, and Kash asked, “Want to play a board game? I noticed there are quite a few to choose from.”

She shrugged. “Might as well. I’m kind of sick of just sitting around crying.”

Kash gave her a small smile.

“How about Trivial Pursuit? I haven’t played that in ages,” she suggested.

Kash didn’t have the heart to remind her that he was a nerd through and through, and he’d likely wipe the floor with her. Trivia was his thing. He had more useless knowledge in his brain than the average human. Except in the entertainment category. He sucked at that one. But he didn’t think there was a question in the science and nature category that he didn’t know. In fact, his mom had found a set of the cards in a thrift store when they were in New York, and they used to go over the questions late at night for fun.

“Sounds good,” he said, planning on purposely throwing the game so it would last longer, and so Ginger wouldn’t have a fit when he won in six rounds.

Even though they were preparing to play a game he enjoyed, and even though he and Ginger were finally getting along better, he still missed his mom. Still wanted off this darn island.

Please let today be the day, he thought to himself, as he rolled the dice to see who would go first.

Chapter Nineteen

It was early afternoon on Monday, and Harper and Linc were no closer to finding Kash than they’d been when they first discovered he’d never made it to Portland. Except now they knew another kid was missing as well.

They’d spent most of Sunday talking to the police, searching the neighborhoods around the school, calling everyone Harper could think of to call, and generally being scared out of their minds.

Ginger, the mean girl who’d made such fun of Kash, was also nowhere to be found. And the police had to split their time talking to Ginger’s parents and friends, trying to track her down as well and determine if there was any connection between the missing kids.

Of course, there was. The first person both she and Linc had thought of—Donny. Ginger’s ex-boyfriend, and the kid who’d been bullying Kash all year. The police had gone to his house and questioned him. He’d claimed ignorance, swore that he didn’t know anything about what had happened to “that nerdy little punk.”

Without proof of any wrongdoing, the questioning stopped almost as soon as it had started. And the cops were doing their best to cover all their bases and interview anyone and everyone who might know something . . . but Harper was still convinced Donny was hiding something. Maybe even her son.

Which made no sense. Why would he do that? Kash was a good kid. Kind. What could he have possibly done to Donny or anyone else to make them hate him so much? To take bullying to such a crazy extreme?

The fact that Ginger was missing as well—and possibly with Kash, wherever he was—didn’t make Harper feel any better. Her baby was most likely scared. Hungry. Cold. And she wanted him back in her arms. Now.

Harper couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d spent three nights . . . somewhere. While she’d been enjoying her time with Linc, her son was probably suffering. She felt guilty and heartbroken. And angry. So damn angry.

She refused to think about the worst-case scenario. That he was gone. She’d feel it if he was dead. She knew that without a doubt. But that didn’t make this any easier. Kash was out there, and she needed him home.

It was her turn to lose sleep. Linc had held and rocked her all night . . . well, for the three hours he’d convinced her to lie down. She’d spent every other hour pacing, alternating between exhilaration when it seemed as if they might have found something and disappointment when any information they’d learned hadn’t immediately led them to her son.

And when she paced—back and forth, back and forth—everywhere she looked, she’d seen reminders of Kash. The kitchen, where he laughed as he made dinner with Linc. The half-painted wall in the laundry room, which he’d been working on by himself. His pile of clothes waiting to go into the washer. The telescope in the corner of the living room. His books on the end tables. It was enough to make her cry . . . and she quickly grew so sick of crying. Of feeling helpless.