Never Ever

by Sara Saedi

  “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.

  “I know I’m the new girl on the island,” Wylie said. “And I realize I haven’t had a chance to get to know all of you, but I do know something we all have in common. Even you, Tinka.”

  Some of the girls snickered at Tinka as she raised one eyebrow.

  “What could we possibly have in common?” Tinka asked. It seemed that without Micah around, she forgot to be nice to Wylie.

  “We all hate being treated like fragile creatures who need to hide away in the basement the second something goes wrong. The guys think we’re arthritic, but we’re not.”

  “Obviously.” Tinka relented. “None of us likes being treated like we’re weak and useless. What’s your point?”

  “My point is we don’t have to agree to go along with it.”

  “I second that,” Lola added. “We have every right to be on the front lines like the guys.”

  Some girls nodded their heads in agreement, while a few retreated to the back of the dining room.

  “We’re as strong as they are,” Wylie continued. “And we don’t need boys to protect us from everything. I’d like to play a part in changing the way we’re treated, and I invite you to join me.”

  Wylie opened a small box filled with metal brackets. She placed a wooden slab over the entrance to the basement and hammered a nail into it. Some of the girls gasped in response, others cheered, and a small faction hustled out of the room.

  “Is Phinn okay with this?” Bailey asked.

  “Don’t worry about Phinn,” Wylie said. “Now, I could use a little help here.”

  The girls edged toward the stage with their hammers and nails. Wylie assumed there’d be some reluctance, but she didn’t expect they’d be practically terrified to join in. Nadia nervously glanced toward the entrance of the dining room and then handed her tools back to Lola.

  “Sorry, guys,” she said as she walked out. “I can’t do this.”

  “I can,” Tinka announced. She was the first to join Wylie onstage and hammer a nail into the slab. Lola joined them next. After a few minutes, no one could hear each other talking over the sound of the pounding. They hammered away and cheered each other on until the floorboards that opened up to the basement were nearly sealed shut.

  “What’s going on in here?” Phinn’s voice bellowed through the dining room, loud enough to cut through the hammering. The girls instantly dropped their tools.

  “Busted . . .” Tinka said under her breath.

  “What does it look like?” Wylie turned, answering Phinn with a smile as he approached. Maz, Bandit, and Joshua trailed behind him. “We’re closing up the basement. The girls and I don’t want to hide down there anymore.”

  “I never approved this,” Phinn replied. His tone was so serious that Wylie stumbled over her response.

  “It wasn’t, um, it wasn’t up for debate.”

  “This was your idea, Wylie?” Phinn asked.

  “Don’t be mad at her,” Lola quickly jumped in. “It’s my fault. I’m the one who told her it was a good idea. We should have talked to you about it.”

  “We’re so sorry, Phinn,” Bailey explained. “We’ll take out all the nails right now.”

  “Like hell we will,” Wylie said. “Last night was terrifying. We’re not going to stand back and let you guys fight our battles.”

  “That’s not up to you. I make those decisions.” Phinn was addressing her like a child and yet Wylie could tell he was struggling not to completely blow up at her.

  “My mistake,” Wylie replied. “I didn’t realize we were living under the rule of a dictator.”

  Joshua gave Wylie a look that said “Please shut up,” but she just glared back at him. If there was one person in the room she expected to defend her, it was her own brother.

  “Can you all give me and Wylie some alone time?” Phinn phrased the question less like a request and more like an order. The girls quickly made their way out of the room. Tinka brushed close to Wylie.

  “Just because he gave you his mom’s necklace doesn’t mean he’ll do what you want,” she whispered as she followed the rest of the girls out of the room.

  Phinn’s expression was cold and aloof as he approached her. What happened to the guy who’d covered her with kisses that morning?

  “Don’t ever talk to me like that in front of anyone again,” Phinn snapped. “You did it last night and I gave you a pass, but now you’re making a habit out of it.”

  “This isn’t about you, Phinn. This is about the girls on the island. I don’t agree with the way we’re being treated. We have every right to stand up for ourselves. You don’t have to be such an elder about it.”

  “I can’t give you special treatment because you’re my girlfriend. Lola should have told you this was a bad idea. I don’t know what she’s trying to prove—”

  “She’s not trying to prove anything,” Wylie said, cutting him off. “Let’s just start over. The girls and I don’t want to hide in the basement anymore. Can we have your approval on that?”

  “No. I don’t know how much more clearly I can spell this out for you, Wylie. Hopper’s dangerous. It’s safer to keep you girls hidden.”

  “It doesn’t feel safe down there.”

  “Wylie, enough!” Phinn yelled. “I’ve lost a lot of people in my life. I won’t lose you! End of story!”

  Phinn left without so much as a hug or a handshake. Once he was gone, Wylie tried to take out the nails, but her hands were shaking. She didn’t mean to upset Phinn, and she didn’t want the other girls to think she believed she deserved special treatment from him. This is what happens when you get political, Wylie thought. You just end up ruffling fea
thers and pissing people off.

  “Trouble in paradise?” Tinka walked back into the dining room and handed Wylie her hammer.

  “Phinn was right. It was a bad idea,” Wylie replied.

  Tinka shook her head. “For a second there, I thought Phinn liked you because you were different, but you’re not. You’re just like every other girl he’s dated . . . doing everything he wants.”

  “I made a mistake. I’m fixing it. That’s all.”

  “Right. Just sweep all your problems under the rug.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing!” Wylie retorted sharply.

  “Careful. The more you tell yourself that, the more you’ll start to believe it.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  disappearing act

  a rough patch. That’s what Vanessa always said when her relationship of the moment was headed for disaster. Wylie, dubious, would nod in agreement, even though she knew a breakup was imminent and she’d have to drop everything to cheer up her best friend once again. And now here she was in the throes of her very own rough patch, and Vanessa wasn’t at the ready to make her feel better.

  It had been six agonizing days of kill-me-now awkwardness between her and Phinn. They continued to kiss and hold hands when they were together, but something felt different. The kisses were shorter and his hands didn’t hold on to her quite as tightly anymore. Phinn had thanked her for pulling every last nail out of the floorboards, but Wylie couldn’t shake the feeling that he still expected her to grovel for forgiveness.

  “He’s busy. Don’t take it so personally,” Lola said, trying to comfort her.

  “He was busy before and he didn’t act like this. Next time I come up with an idea so stupid, will you just slap me repeatedly until I get over it?”

  “It wasn’t a stupid idea.”

  Wylie and Lola had spent the better part of the morning planting seeds and watering the vegetables in the garden. Access was limited to only a few locals, so it was always quiet and peaceful. Even the chickens seemed to be shrieking less. Maybe Wylie’s nonstop chatter about Phinn had put them straight to sleep.