He leans close. “Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
“Then I guess it’s the same everywhere, eh?” He kisses my ear before stealing back the popcorn.
It’s Friday night, so the theater fills to capacity fast. A couple of kids from the Palms pass on their way down front, and Rigel says hi to so many people I start calling him the Mayor.
“St. Croix is small,” he says, opening a bag of Reese’s Pieces. “You’ll know everyone by the time you go to college, too.”
“Maybe.”
He nods emphatically. “Definitely.”
The guy in front of us turns, bumping fists with Rigel. After a quick introduction—Taylor; he’s one of McKinley’s top swimmers— they talk college and scholarships. I half-listen for clues, wiping my hands on my jeans so I can reply to an incoming text from Morgan.
Eventually, the house lights go down as the movie starts. Putting my phone away, I tear open another bag of candy and start searching for reds and purples.
“No picking colors,” Rigel says, leaning in again. “You’ll ruin the ratio.”
“They’re my Skittles,” I retort, eating a small handful before he deftly snatches the bag from me.
Despite my back-row observations, we make it through the movie with minimal kissing. The plot’s good, juicy enough that we’re actually paying attention. Besides, making out gets weird when there’s screaming and savagery on-screen. Afterward, we find Leo in a crowd of middle and high school kids by the fountain. Though we met briefly at Rory’s birthday party, I don’t really know Leo. He seems like a cool kid, quiet and serious. At thirteen he’s gangly and tall, sneakered feet so huge it’s a wonder he doesn’t trip over them.
In the truck, Rigel and Leo chat easily. It’s obvious they have a close relationship marked by deep, mutual affection. I’m glad. That’s real, and it’s important, especially considering Rigel’s strained relationship with Orion.
“Thanks, Ri,” Leo murmurs before getting out of the truck. Hesitating just outside, he glances back at me. “Um, bye, Isla.”
“Bye, Leo.” I smile as I scoot back over. “Have fun.”
“You got all your stuff?” Rigel asks as Leo makes his escape. “Your phone?”
Leo nods, patting his backpack before jogging up the driveway of a palatial blue house with concrete lions on either side of the front door. Waiting until he disappears inside before pulling away, Rigel drops his phone into my lap. “Will you text my Mom? Tell her we dropped Leo off at Ahmad’s.”
We’re running late because of the movie, but Christiansted is still crowded when we arrive. Jump Up is an official street party that happens four times a year—restaurants, pubs and shops stay open late, and there’s always live music and street performers. I’ve never been, but it’s all anyone’s talked about lately, so I’m excited to go.
Rigel finally finds a parking space on a side street, and I shoot Camille a text, letting her know we’re minutes away.
I receive a text back. “They’re at...Mateo’s?”
“A lounge.” Rigel nods, locking his truck. “We play pool there sometimes.”
The streets are jammed with food trucks, tourists, drunks and several exhausted looking parents carrying passed out children. Mocko Jumbies amble by on sky-high stilts, masks and costumes fluttering in the salty breeze coming off the wharf. Mateo’s is a couple of blocks down on Strand Street. Like most of the establishments on Strand, it’s dark and loud inside. A polished, wooden bar stretches across one wall, a row of booths along the other. Pool tables sit in the middle, all of them occupied.
Beneath the glow of dim, blue lighting, Jasmine and Kyle are in a booth with Brielle and Maurice. Camille’s nowhere to be seen. After we say hello to everyone, Rigel turns to me. “You want anything from the bar?”
I squeeze into the booth, setting my purse down. “Are you having anything?”
“I’ll probably have a greenie.”
A Heineken. “Sounds good.”
Jasmine puts her phone away, turning to me. She’s rocking kohl eyeliner tonight, playing up the Indian in her Trinidadian blood. “So you guys just got to town?”
“Yeah. We went to the movies first.”
“Oh, what’d you see?”
“Obsecration.”
“Ew! I heard that was so scary!” Jasmine says, eyes alight.
“It was,” I agree. “But I like that kind of stuff.”
“Not me,” she says with a shiver. “I’d be up all night if I watched that.”
I glance around, looking for my cousin. Why tell me to meet her if she was just going to dip out? I pull Jasmine closer. “Hey, where’s Cam? I literally just talked to her, and she said y’all were here together.”
“Oh.” Jasmine shakes her head, disgusted. “She and Nando had it out.”
“In the time it took for us to get here?” I ask, incredulous.
“Yes, girl.”
Trying to keep things chill, I lower my voice a little more. “Was it about Kyle?”
Jasmine nods.
“Huh. I thought she would’ve figured it out by now.” But an inkling of guilt squirms through me. I’ve been letting Cam put me off whenever we discuss boys, figuring she’d spill when she needed to, but now I feel selfish. I should’ve pressed her, made her tell me what was going on. I know how adept she is at playing things off, even when she’s hurting.
“Nando’s liked her for awhile. Not Kyle, though. He just wants to hook up.” She pauses. “She was into it for awhile, but I think she’s catching real feelings for Nando.”
“Wow.” I don’t know what else to say. Camille and Nando have been close forever, but this aspect of their relationship definitely complicates things. Rigel returns with our beer, and I scoot over, making room for him. “Was Nando drunk?”
“Not really,” Jasmine says. “Anyway—there’s your girl.”
Camille squeezes between Kyle and Brielle, giving me a quick wave. “You guys finally made it.”
“Hey, Cam.” I give her a smile, but she’s obviously upset, lowering her eyes as Kyle whispers something in her ear. She looks seconds away from tears.
“What’s going on?” Rigel asks, either not picking up on Cam’s lame attempts at hiding her distress, or not caring. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” Camille waves her hand, taking a long sip of her drink.
Considering how tight Rigel and Nando are, though, he probably already knows. “You want to play?” he asks me, looking the pool tables. Maurice is already over there, racking the balls.
Sipping the beer he brought me, I shake my head. I need to talk to Camille. “No, go ahead.”
“You sure?”
“Maybe later.”
“I can teach you if you don’t know how,” he offers.
Little does he know I’d probably kick his butt at pool. My friends and I spent many summers in Morgan’s garage, being schooled by her older brothers. I smirk at Rigel’s earnest expression. “Oh, I know how. But thanks.”
His eyes widen. “It’s like that? You definitely have to play me one day, then.”
“I will.”
“I’ll play,” Kyle offers. Rigel nods, grabbing his greenie, and they leave to join Maurice.
Brielle launches into a story of someone caught cheating at school last week. I’m seconds from demanding Camille fill me in on the Nando and Kyle situation when Orion saunters up to our table, flanked by three guys I’ve never met. He looks good tonight, his hair cut in a fresh fade. Jasmine’s practically vibrating beside me.
“Ladies,” he says, grinning at us. “How’s it going, Bri?”
Brielle smiles, standing and leaning across the table to hug him. “Everything’s good, cuz. You?”
“Can’t complain,” he says, he’s already distracted by Jasmine. “Princess Jasmine. Where you been hiding?” She levels him with a glare, but he bends and kisses her cheek anyway, laughing when she shoves him off. Things must be sour between them at the moment. His eyes alight
on me. “Isla.”
“Hey, Orion.” I fiddle with my purse, uncomfortable with the way his friends are watching.
Leaning down, he kisses my cheek. “My brother here?”
“He’s playing pool,” I reply, craning my head to see across the room. “Right over there.”
Rigel’s already looking warily our way as he rubs blue chalk onto the tip of his stick. Orion straightens, giving us a half-smile. “Thanks. See you.”
Jasmine and Brielle resume their conversation, but I’m watching the group circled around the pool table. The Thomas boys stand closely, bodies tense as if ready to spring. It’s obvious Orion’s trying to convince Rigel of something, who remains impassive with the world’s best poker face. I’m relieved when Orion and his friends stroll back out of the lounge.
“What did he want?” I ask, joining Rigel a minute later.
He shakes his head, hardening his jaw. “They’re meeting somebody tonight...and he wanted me and Nando to come. Told him Nando left already, and that I had you. So…”
“Why would he want you to go?” I ask, genuinely puzzled.
He sighs, facing me fully. “Back up.”
“Back up?” A thousand thoughts flood my mind, none of them good. “For what? A fight?”
“A deal.” His eyes burn into mine, searching, asking me to understand without further explanation.
And I do; I get it.
East End is lovely by day, with rolling, green hills and peaceful ocean views, but at night the serpentine roads are so isolated that it’s a little eerie. We’re deep in the countryside now, where houses are few and far between, their lights so far away they might as well be stars.
My mind’s wandering. I’m thinking about Camille, and how out of it she was when we’d said our goodbyes tonight.
you okay? I text. let’s talk soon.
“There’s this beach…” Rigel begins, turning down the music.
“There’s always a beach with you,” I tease.
He glances my way, eyes traveling over me, and my stomach flips at the intention in his eyes. His phone beeps. He glances down at it, and then, scowling, abruptly pulls off onto the side of the road. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What?” I ask, alarmed, although my gut is telling me exactly what before it even leaves his mouth.
“Orion.” He slams his hand against the steering wheel. “I knew this shit was gonna happen. I told him.” Furious, he types something back.
“Is he okay?”
“Hell no, he’s not okay,” he spits, dropping the phone on my lap. Taking a long look down either side of the pitch black road, he wrenches the truck around and starts gunning back the way we came. “Answer him for me, if he texts again.”
This is a side of Rigel I’ve never seen, and I realize, thinking about the times I’ve seen him with Orion, that his brother seems to bring out the worst in him. By the way he’s driving, whatever’s happening now must be major.
Sure enough, the phone beeps again.
second to last building. txt when u reach.
I read the message aloud, looking at Rigel. “Where is he?”
“Down by Redbrick.” We make eye contact, and he softens, squeezing my thigh. “Housing projects right outside town.” He looks conflicted, as if he isn’t sure whether or not he wants to fill me in. I think it’s obvious he has to now, though.
“So Orion sells. I knew that. I mean, I’ve heard,” I say, gazing out the window. Flickers of my reflection on the glass play against the dark, blurred landscape outside. It’s just past eleven, and we’re the only car on the road.
“He sells weed, sometimes coke,” Rigel says.
I wait, and when it seems like he’s not going to go any further, I touch his knee. “Tell me. How’d he start?”
“His senior year. He and Daniel were thick as thieves.”
“Your half brother?”
“Yes. The oldest.” He nods briefly. “The two of them would hang with guys from Marley—”
“What’s that?”
“More projects, down west though. By Frederiksted.”
I nod, listening.
“My dad had joint custody, so Daniel didn’t live with us full time. His mother lived maybe ten minutes away, so he split his time between her house and ours. My parents are strict—especially my dad—but when Daniel stayed by his mom’s, he was allowed to do whatever. He hated school, hated rules...ironically the only person he really respected was my mom, and that’s because she expected more out of him. And because she showed him more love than anybody else did.”
“Do they talk now? Daniel and your mom?”
“They keep in touch.”
“But you don’t?”
“Not really. I mean, when we were younger we were kind of close, but Orion was always his boy. When Daniel graduated and started living at the UVI dorms, Orion would drive down and hang out until my mom called him for dinner. We didn’t know it then, obviously, but they were usually at Marley. They started having cash all the time, buying clothes, stuff for their cars...toys for Leo and Rory and Phoenix.”
“Flaunting it.”
“Like idiots. You can leave campus for lunch when you’re a senior and Orion would go every day, bringing me back food from restaurants—it was ridiculous but I didn’t mind it at the time.” He cracks a smile. “Anyway, it took awhile, but my parents started to notice.”
“What’d they do?”
“They thought it was mostly Daniel at first. I mean, Orion was on honor roll...swim team...all of that. But he started coming home late, sometimes missing swim practice. The casual cash...all the time. Things started adding up. Eventually Coach Archer called my mother to tell her he’d missed another practice. Mom tried calling Orion, but she couldn’t reach him, and when he finally got home it was really, really late. My parents grounded him after that, but he’d find ways to sneak out, especially on the weekends. I thought my Dad was going to kill him one night.”
“Did they fight?”
“Yeah. Orion came home drunk, acting like an ass, and my dad came this close to clocking him in the face. The next morning my mom was going through his car and she found a bunch of baggies and a scale. And that was it. They took his car away and grounded him. He couldn’t go anywhere but school for awhile. Daniel’s mom had moved to St. Thomas, so my dad arranged for Daniel to transfer to the UVI campus there. It was mostly to keep him away from Orion...and us.”
“It didn’t matter, did it?” I ask, thinking about the version of Orion I saw tonight. Hard, aloof.
“Not a bit.” He chuckles darkly. “Daniel was gone, but Orion was already deep in the game.”
I sit back, contemplating the story he’s just told me. It’s no worse than anything my imagination has conjured up, but I get why he was reluctant to share. The phone vibrates, this time with an unrelated message from Nando. I read it aloud, but Rigel motions for me to ignore it, slowing as we leave East End for the more populated neighborhoods outside town.
“But that’s not why you stopped talking to Orion, is it?” I ask, wondering if something else happened.
“No.” He stops for a light. “We were still really tight at that point. I was in tenth grade, and I still looked up to him. My parents would let him use the car to go to school so he could drive me. We’d stay after to swim, like old times.” He smiles ruefully. “Everyone thought we’d end up in the Olympics together.”
We drive back through town, which has emptied in the time we’ve been gone. A homeless man lingers beneath a streetlight, rummaging through his backpack as we pass by. Rigel continues, “Nothing had really changed, though—Orion just got better at living a double life. He still found ways to go out. Sometimes, I’d sneak out with him. One night, he got caught with a bunch of weed in town, and because I was there, we both got hauled in.” He runs his hand over his hair. “Dad wanted us to stay the night, to teach us a lesson, but Mom couldn’t do it, so they left the kids with the neighbor and came to get us
. I’ll never forget my mother’s face. She cried and cried, Isla. I felt like shit. My dad knows everybody, so he was able to get me out. But Orion was already eighteen. They made him stay.”
“Over night?”
“Until we could bail him out. And then he was sentenced with a second degree misdemeanor for intent to distribute. He was in Golden Grove sixty days.”
“He spent two months in jail?” I whisper, shocked.
“Yeah. He was lucky—would’ve been longer in the States.” Rigel glances at me. “All jail did was make him worse. When he got out, he went right back to it, even though he was on probation. He distanced himself because he didn’t want me to get messed up in it, so I hardly saw him after that.”
Another text comes through, Orion asking if we’re close.
“Tell him we’re five minutes out,” snaps Rigel. I relay the message, tucking the phone beneath my thigh and the seat.
“So that’s it? He didn’t even go to college?”
“No, he went to school in Miami. Dropped out before the first semester was even over and came back home.”
“Your parents must have been livid.”
Rigel laughs harshly. “They didn’t even let him come back to the house. He had to stay with my Uncle Chuck and get a job at the rum factory.”
I can’t imagine Casanova working in a factory. “Doing what?”
“Giving tours,” he says. “He still does it, you know. He has a couple of gigs, all fronts for his real profession. Hey.” He pats my knee. “Scoot over so he can get in.”
“Oh—” Unbuckling my seatbelt, I slide over. Outside, darkened silhouettes of mostly abandoned buildings clutter wide, cracked streets. Rigel pulls over, and seconds later the door opens. Orion climbs inside, shutting the door quickly. No one else seems to be around, but adrenaline rolls off of him like fumes.
“Let’s go,” he says, bracing his arm against the closed window. “Hey, pretty girl,” he says to me, serious as a heart attack.
“Hi.” I adjust the way I’m sitting, self conscious of the gearshift between my knees. Rigel switches gears, knuckles brushing my skin, and I tense, wondering if he notices. And then I feel silly, because right now copping an involuntary feel is probably the last thing on his mind.
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