Locked

by Parker Witter

  I touch the gold strand around my neck. I feel my throat constrict.

  “It’s beautiful,” I say. I take the gold chain off and slip the cowrie shell on. It slides down easily. “Will you?” I say, holding it out to Noah.

  He edges closer to me and takes the necklace from my hands. I move my hair to the side as he loops the chain back around my neck. I feel his fingers on my skin as they gently find the clasp.

  “There,” he says.

  I turn around and look into his face—heavy, beautiful, so full of love. And I want now, more than anything, to tell him what I need to.

  “Noah,” I say. I slide closer to him and take his face in my hands. “I want you to be here. I want you to be the Healer. They need you, you said it yourself. Tell them you’ll do it.” I don’t let my eyes leave his. “This is where you belong.”

  He snorts. “Belong,” he says. He stops, looks at me. “And you?”

  I swallow. “I want to stay with you.”

  Noah shakes his head, pulls my hands down. “You’re just saying that because you don’t think there is another way.”

  “Is there? Noah, we’ve been trying to figure out how to get off this island and failing, and maybe—maybe it’s time we tried to figure out how to stay.”

  “Your whole life is somewhere else,” he says.

  “Not anymore.” I take a deep breath. “I know my sister is safe. I know it will be hard, but she’s—” My voice catches, but I push forward. “She’s going to be at college soon and until then Ed will look out for her. I know he will. Noah, my life—my life is with you now.”

  He looks at me. I see his eyes get liquid. “August,” he says. “This isn’t what you’re meant for. This isn’t your destiny.”

  “But it’s yours.”

  I see him swallow. “You’d do that for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” he asks, and I see the bewilderment in his eyes. The way his forehead knits together.

  I think about the chief’s words on the bluff. About sacrifice. Duty. About how we show it. “Because I love you,” I say.

  He doesn’t react, just keeps looking at me. “That’s not a good idea,” he says.

  “It’s not really a choice, Noah.” I fold my hands in my lap. Suddenly, I feel exposed. What if I’ve misread this entire thing? What if he doesn’t want me to stay with him? “What about you?”

  “You have to ask?”

  My heart leaps up into my neck. I feel it beating there, trying to scramble up my throat and out of my mouth, through my words. “Yes,” I say. “I do. We’re talking about forever.”

  He nods. Then he runs his hands over his forehead. “When we started second grade, Tobias Scarsdale used to pick on you. You were so small and he was one of those freakishly big kids, remember?”

  I nod, but I don’t say anything. I have no idea where he is going with this.

  “He hit you once. You were answering a question, and he just leaned over and grabbed your elbow and smacked you. He wasn’t allowed to sit next to you for the rest of the year.”

  “Noah…”

  “After school that day he was waiting for his mom. I almost killed him.” Noah looks up, shuts his eyes briefly. “I pummeled him. I was suspended for a week, but it didn’t matter. I couldn’t let someone get away with trying to hurt you.”

  His head snaps back down. He looks at me. I feel all the air leave my body in one, solid rush.

  “Summer after seventh grade. Your parents wanted you to go to Europe with them, but your sister had soccer camp and they didn’t want her to miss it. You thought it would be unfair to just bring one of you, so you stayed home. Your aunt came to look after you guys, and you made Italian every night. You even went and used your allowance to get one of those pasta makers so it would feel like you guys were in Italy.”

  “How do you…”

  “Freshman year, when your mom got sick, you didn’t leave the hospital for eight straight days. Ed and I would go home at night and you would sleep on the two chairs in your mom’s room. Maggie didn’t visit. You were angry about that, but you understood.

  “And that night Ed asked you to be his girl I came there to tell you how much I loved you. I came there because I couldn’t bear to think of living another minute without you by my side. Ed showed up and he knew what I was there to do, but he said he wanted you, too. He said the right thing to do was to let you go. That he could take care of you the way I couldn’t—I thought he was right.”

  Without even realizing it, I’ve begun to cry. I feel the tears sliding down my cheeks, landing in my lap and mingling with the ocean water.

  “What I am trying to say to you, August, is that asking me is a really stupid response. Because it has been you, only you, every single day, for as long as I can remember. And I hate myself because the only thing I want is to stay here with you forever.”

  I don’t know which one of us moves first. It doesn’t matter. Because soon I’m in his arms and he is kissing me like I have never been kissed before. Nothing has ever felt so good, so true, and I know, now, that what I’m doing is right. I can’t not be with him. Leaving here, going back to a life that was, I can’t do that. Because he’s everything now. Wherever Noah is is where I want to be.

  My face is wet from crying, and he kisses my eyelids and then my cheeks. When his lips meet mine again I taste the salt on them. His lips travel down to my neck and then he’s standing, with me still in his arms. He carries me through the cottage and into the bedroom. He takes my wet clothes off, but this time there is no chill. I am already heated up by the sun and his kisses.

  It’s different this time. Slower. More familiar. My body folds to him instantly. He traces his fingers all over me, like he’s mapping my body, drawing it, memorizing every inch. His lips find the backs of my knees, his hands find my thighs. I don’t feel shy or nervous. His kisses are deeper. His hands move farther. It feels like everything is more weighted, heavier. Like just by being together we’re making an impact.

  Chapter Thirteen

  This time I wake up in his arms. We fell asleep and now it’s nearly evening. His eyes are closed, but when I kiss his neck I feel his arms tighten reflexively around me.

  “Hi,” he says.

  “Hi.”

  We kiss lazily for a few minutes. His hands move up and down my arms. He kisses my nose. Then right behind my ear.

  “That tickles,” I say, laughing.

  “Noted.”

  My stomach starts to growl, and I realize I have not eaten a single thing today. I left early to meet with the chief and since then have had only water.

  “Hungry?” Noah asks.

  “Starving,” I say.

  “I’ll be back,” he says. He kisses me and then stands up. I try to pull him back down. “I don’t want you to go,” I say. I wrap my arms around his torso and bring his face down to mine. “Sustenance,” he says, “is key.” His lips meet my shoulder and then travel back up my neck. I sigh. Food seems overrated. “I’ll be back.”

  He pulls on clothes and I watch him go. I lie back. It’s weird. I know I shouldn’t be this happy. I know I should want to get back home, that I should be looking for a way, but I can’t help it. I feel content. It’s not just right for him; it’s right for me, too. Because my life ended the instant we crashed, and my new one, this one, began that same moment. My life with Noah. Maybe he’s not the only one who belongs here. Maybe I do, too.

  I slip on some clothes and join him in the kitchen. He’s baking fish, and he hands me a ceramic plate of cut fruit. I devour it all, and he gives me more. I have a flare of pride that Noah’s presence has created a life that flourishes here.

  “Better?” he says when I’ve finished. He takes the empty plate out of my hands and wraps his arm around my waist. He draws me close to him and kisses me once. He sets the plate down but doesn’t let go of me, and with his other hand he tucks some hair behind my ear. “I love you,” he says. “Have I said that yet?”


  “In so many words,” I say. My chest feels light, like it’s rising. Like it might just float up without me.

  “Well, I do,” he says. “In case it isn’t obvious, I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” I whisper.

  I’ve said “I love you” before to Ed. But when Noah kisses me, I know I’ve never felt anything close to this. I’ve never meant it before, not like this.

  Noah takes my face in his hands. His eyes look into mine, and there is an intensity I haven’t seen there before. If I didn’t know better, I’d call it something close to desperation. “I want you to know that, okay?” he says. “Whatever happens, I have always loved you and I will always love you.”

  I smile. “Okay,” I whisper. “I know.” I kiss his temples. The bridge of his nose. “But nothing is going to happen.”

  For a moment something passes over his face, but it’s gone before I can recognize what it is. And then we’re kissing again and I’m so lost in him—his warmth, the way it feels to be close to him—that I don’t think to question it. I don’t think to hit pause on that moment and study it. Turn it over.

  All I think about is now.

  We eat more and then get back into bed. I don’t think I will ever get sick of touching him. The endless exploration of sensation—there there there. The way he seems to anticipate what I need before I know it myself. It’s like he’s living inside me. Like we’re sharing one ecstatic, electrified body. It feels like every part—arms, legs, knees, lips—was made for us and us alone. No one has ever used them like this. No one has ever felt what we do. No two people have ever fit together so perfectly. He whispers my name over and over, and I think I’ve never heard anything more beautiful. My name on his lips in sweet, delicious surrender.

  I fall asleep in Noah’s arms. And all through the night, I feel them around me—strong, protective. It feels like nothing could pull me out of them. Not the morning. Not hunger. Not thirst. Not even a natural disaster.

  And I’m right. Ultimately, it’s none of those things. It’s a helicopter.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I hear it before I open my eyes. The spiral of air—like a hurricane. The grating screech of an engine. Foreign sounds. Machine sounds. Sounds of metal and steel and technology. Sounds that don’t belong.

  At first I think it’s part of a dream, but then my eyes are open, and Noah is getting out of bed, and—

  “They’re here,” I say. “Noah, it’s them.” My instinct is for joy, and relief. The rescue team is here. It’s over. They’re coming to bring us home. “Noah, do you hear me?”

  But he doesn’t turn around, and I realize, suddenly, what has happened. I go cold.

  “You did this,” I say. I scramble forward. “Why?”

  “I told you I would get you off this island,” he says.

  I think about the chief yesterday. About what he said. “It is not my role.” He didn’t find out Ed and Maggie were alive. Noah did. Noah is the only one who could. Noah. The Healer.

  “You’ll come,” I say. I get out of bed; I put on a dress. My thoughts are spinning too fast. I can’t separate them out. Rescue. Mainland. Ed. Maggie.

  Noah’s walking out of the room, and I run over to him. I throw my weight against him. “Noah,” I say. “You’ll come. You have to.”

  I tug him around so he’s facing me, and when I do my heart sinks—because I know why they’re here. I know what he’s done.

  “No,” I say. I shake my head. I start to cry.

  “August,” he says. He puts his hands on my shoulders. He shakes me. “You need to listen to me. You can’t stay here.”

  “No,” I say. “That’s not fair. You can’t decide that for me. How could you? How could you say all those things to me yesterday? How could you tell me you love me? You knew—”

  “Because this isn’t the life you were meant for,” he says. “This isn’t what I want for you.” He’s practically screaming it. The helicopter is getting closer and closer. I hear the propeller now like it’s inside my own head—chopping and dicing my thoughts. “I can’t keep you here. I had to do this.”

  “Do what?” I yell. I know, but I need to hear him say it. I need to hear that it’s really final.

  “I’m the Healer. I could unlock the island. Only me. Don’t you see?” he says. “If I had that power, how could I not use it?” Noah wasn’t at the stream yesterday morning, he was with the chief. He ascended to the role. It’s done. Last night, together. That wasn’t our beginning. That was our good-bye.

  “But why can’t you come with me?” I say, although I know, of course I do. I hear the chief’s words in my head. I even understand. Duty. Noah has made a promise to his people. He’s given them his word.

  “They need me,” he says.

  “I need you.”

  And then I hear voices. Two men I don’t recognize and Ed. I run to the kitchen. I look out on the patio, down at the beach. There he is. Ed. Hands cupped around his mouth. Screaming my name.

  And then someone else gets out of the helicopter. Blond hair and lanky limbs but even from this far away I know her. I’d know her anywhere. My sister.

  I close my eyes.

  “See?” Noah says into my ear. “You can’t stay. You have to be strong, August. I need you to do that for me.”

  I turn to him and see that he’s crying, too. The tears slide down his cheeks. I clear them with my fingers. I shake my head.

  “I can’t,” I say. “I can’t leave you.”

  “You have to.”

  He puts his hands on my shoulders. “You need to go home.”

  “Noah,” I say. And then he’s kissing me. It’s desperate and hungry. It makes my heart soar. It makes my lungs feel like they’re going to explode in my chest. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him in as far as I possibly can. If I hold him close enough, maybe I won’t be able to leave. Maybe we’ll just be stuck together.

  But then he pulls back. He brings his lips to my forehead. “Go,” he says. “Please.” I see a flash of gold from his lips, and I know he’s left a mark where he kissed me. I hope it stays there. A birthmark. A mark of this life. This time. Him.

  I reach for him—try to grab something, anything, but he’s turning away.

  I hear Ed and Maggie. They’re close now. I see my sister on the beach, frantic. I take a deep breath and turn toward the path. And then I run. I don’t think. I just move. And I keep running until I reach them, until I feel my sister collapse into my arms.

  “August. August,” they say. They repeat it like a chant.

  Ed is crying. So is my sister. I hold her in my arms. I stroke her hair. “Everything is all right,” I say. “I’m okay. It’s okay. It’s going to be all right.”

  The two men are from the coast guard, and they throw a blanket over our shoulders. Maggie’s tucked into my side, and she doesn’t let go. I kiss the top of her head. I squeeze her in tighter.

  And then I look at Ed. His face—so familiar and yet different somehow. He’s grown up in the time I’ve been on this island.

  I don’t think. I don’t need to. I release Maggie, wrap the blanket firmly around her, and then I go to Ed. I put my hands on either side of his face, and I kiss him.

  His arms wrap around me. My body folds to his familiar frame. Puzzle pieces, he used to call us.

  And then he pulls back. He looks out, down the beach. His eyes find mine, and I know what he’s asking, what he wants to know: Where is Noah?

  I know he won’t leave without him. I know he’d stay on this island without us, Maggie and me. He’d send us home if he thought there was a chance Noah was here. That he was alive.

  So I just shake my head. I lie. Because I don’t know how to tell him the truth. I don’t know how to explain that his best friend can’t leave. That he sacrificed his life to save mine. Mine with them.

  “No,” Ed mouths. He covers his face with his hands. I think he’s going to fall to the ground, but instead he moves forward, quickly. He t
akes me in his arms, Maggie, too, and then he’s hustling us onto the helicopter. He gets me in, then Maggie, and then he climbs up behind us.

  The coast guard gets in the front, and within seconds we are in the air. Maggie is still pressed against me, and Ed has my hands in his. He’s looking at me—his eyes wide, round. I think about everything that is soon to come—all the questions and conversations. All the lies.

  I’m not crying anymore. My eyes are clear. I press my face against the window. I look down. I touch my fingertips to the glass, then to the cowrie shell at my throat. I imagine Noah down there watching us. I imagine him on the deck, hanging over the beach, looking up into the sky. I hope he hears me. I hope he knows.

  Good-bye, I whisper, and when I do, the land disappears below me. It’s just ocean now. Clear. Blue. Empty.

  He’s gone.

  About the Author

  Parker Witter was born in Seattle, Washington, where she continues to live and work. Locked is her first novel.

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  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Welcome

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.