by Sam Cameron
Denny said, “No, it’s because it’s dangerous.”
Tristan said, quietly, “We can go somewhere else—back to the Gap, or Thunder Shoals—”
“I can find someone else,” Brad threatened. “There’s plenty of master divers on this island.”
“And they’re all going to say no,” Steven countered. He didn’t tell Brad they already knew about his visit to Darla Stewart. “No one wants that kind of liability.”
“So now I’m a liability,” Brad said snippishly.
Steven didn’t answer. He didn’t think Brad would listen to reason and he wasn’t willing to put more effort into it. He left Denny to deal with them and climbed up to the wheelhouse. Tristan came up a short time later, her face somber.
“He sets his heart on things and gets frustrated when he can’t have them,” she said.
“Join the club,” Steven said, pretending to be intensely interested in the weather report.
“It’s easy for you,” Tristan retorted. “I bet you’ve never had anyone say no to you in your entire life.”
“Which shows how much you don’t know about me,” Steven said hotly.
She turned her head to the horizon. “This is the only trip he can afford this year. For the next few years, unless he wins the lottery. His job, the divorce, my college—I get it, you don’t want to hear our problems. But you live here all the time, so you take it for granted. But we can’t.”
“That’s not a good reason to risk his life. Or yours.”
She stalked away, muttering under her breath.
Brad was mad, but not mad enough to cancel the afternoon’s trip to Sombrero Reef again. As they approached the site, Steven was surprised to see the Navy ship and the Othello I in the area.
“I bet they’re still missing a piece or two,” he said.
Denny said, “You’re not going to get lucky twice. Besides, I’m going down this trip.”
“We could trade,” Steven suggested.
“Forget it,” Denny said.
The snorkeling went well enough, though Brad was still tight-lipped and sulking about the Agana when they came back. In fact, he sulked all the way back to Fisher Key, and sulked while Denny and Steven helped him ashore. Ed and Irma’s boat was gone from its slip, but another familiar boat had tied up in its slot.
“Oh, no,” Steven muttered.
“Ahoy!” said Larry Gold, tanned and muscular in his tight T-shirt. He came striding down the dock. “You’re Brad Flaherty, right? My bad. I’ve been stuck in Pensacola all week with a bad engine, and I lost my phone the week before that. Otherwise I would never have left you dangling in the wind.”
Steven thought that was a lot of excuses, but Brad shook Larry’s hand and Larry beamed as if they were all old friends. There was a saying around the marina: Never trust Larry with your wallet or your wife. Being a good diver didn’t make him a good person.
“Nice of you boys to take care of my client,” he said to Denny and Steven. “Everyone says you can count on the Andersons.”
“That’s right,” Steven said, lifting one of Brad’s camera cases. “We’ve been working all week.”
Denny added, “A lot of good diving.”
“I’m sure, I’m sure,” Larry said heartily. “But I bet I know a few sweet spots these boys haven’t figured out yet.”
Brad gave him a considering look. “What about the Agana?”
Larry scratched the side of his head. “Great spot. I take all my best divers there.”
Steven put down the camera case forcefully. “He doesn’t have the experience, Larry.”
“It’s too dangerous for either of them,” Denny put in.
Tristan watched carefully but said nothing, her hand on her father’s shoulder.
“I think I’m a better judge of that than you are, boys,” Larry said. “I’ve been diving since you were still in diapers.”
Denny opened his mouth as if to argue. Steven beat him to it, saying, “You could get them killed.”
Larry’s smile didn’t dim a single bit. “Ain’t never gotten anyone killed yet, and I’m not about to start now. Come on, Brad, let’s talk details.”
Brad rolled off with him. Steven watched in disbelief, trying to marshal up more arguments, but Tristan shrugged at them and followed her father, and what was Steven supposed to do about it, anyway? They weren’t doing anything against the law.
Denny said, “I can’t believe he’s going to take him.”
Steven said, “Not our problem.”
“But they’re not ready—”
“Not our problem,” Steven repeated. “You can take the Idle out with Brian while I’m up in Miami.”
Denny appeared marginally cheered up by that, although he kept throwing worried glances toward Larry’s boat. He and Steven cleaned and stowed their gear, then got the Idle shipshape. Denny tried to reach Brian but got no answer. Steven’s phone beeped with several text messages that had accumulated during the day, including Kelsey and Jennifer and Melissa Hardy. He wanted to pitch the phone right into the ocean.
“Yes, it’s so hard being popular,” Denny said after Steven complained.
“I’m not popular. I’m being stalked.”
Denny remained entirely unsympathetic.
“I’m starving,” Steven said. “Let’s go eat.”
“Do you really think you can risk an appearance in public?” Denny asked.
“Do you really want me to drown you?” Steven replied.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Denny was surprised Brian hadn’t sent him any messages during the day. They’d been awake until past midnight, trading texts, and he was feeling very hopeful about the big countdown calendar in his head. Eighteen days left. No more ferrying Brad and Tristan on the Idle. Once he got past the black belt test on Saturday, and Aunt Riza’s party on Sunday, he and Brian would have two weeks together. Two weeks of boat trips and beach blankets and more fun in the surf, if Denny had anything to say about it.
He tried texting Brian from the marina, but nothing came back. He hoped that didn’t mean bad news—maybe MIT had told him he definitely couldn’t come, or Brian’s mom had taken a mental turn for the worse.
Steven drove them over to the Li’l Conch Café. The parking lot was mostly empty—too late for lunch, too early for dinner. When Denny walked in, he saw a few tourists sitting by the green mermaid statue, some kids from the high school at the counter, and Brian and Sean in a booth against the wall.
Brian and Sean.
Which explained why Brian hadn’t called him back.
Denny stopped so abruptly that Steven ran into him.
“What?” Steven asked, annoyed, and then, “Oh.”
Denny couldn’t move. Not that he distrusted Brian. Absolutely not. But there was his best friend and his sort-of boyfriend, sitting together and smiling, and Brian hadn’t tried to reach him all day, hadn’t called him back, and what was Denny supposed to think?
“Oh” just about summed it up.
Brian looked their way, saw Denny, and grimaced. Honest-to-goodness grimaced, as if Denny’s very existence in the world was a physical pain. Like a kidney stone, which Denny’s dad had suffered from for a whole week once. That look was nothing Denny wanted to ever see on someone he hoped to spend a lot of time with.
Louanne Garrity was standing behind the counter, thumbing something into her phone. “Sit yourselves down,” she called out.
Brian turned back to Sean, deliberately dismissing Denny. Sean glanced over, saw who was in the doorway, and raised his hand in a halfhearted wave.
“Hey,” he called out.
Not a “come join us” hey or a “good to see you” hey but just hey, as if they were all casual acquaintances who’d just happened to cross paths.
“Hi,” Denny said in return, though his tongue felt kind of weird and he wasn’t sure it came out loud enough to be heard.
Behind him, Steven asked, “Do you want to go somewhere else?”
“Of course not,” Denny said, because there was no need to be silly about it. He walked to a booth that was the exact farthest point from Brian and slid onto the blue vinyl bench with his back toward him. Although he knew the menu by heart, he grabbed one of the laminated lists from where it was clipped to the napkins and pretended to read every word.
Steven sat down opposite him. “We can go get pizza at Sal’s.”
“I want to eat here,” Denny said flatly.
“Okay.” Steven didn’t sound convinced. “I’m just offering.”
The satellite radio system started playing something romantic and sappy, just to torture Denny. He let a moment pass while Steven fiddled on his phone, and asked, “What are they doing now?”
“Really?” Steven asked. “We’re going to play this game?”
“Shut up and tell me.”
“They’re kissing,” Steven said.
Denny almost whipped around in shock, but he didn’t. “Liar.”
“Of course I’m lying. They’re just sitting there, eating. Like we’re going to do, or I’ll die of starvation,” Steven said.
Louanne came over with some biscuits and took their orders. The biscuits were a little burnt and Louanne a little brusque; Denny figured she was having a bad day. If she noticed any awkwardness going on between her customers, she didn’t say anything. Denny didn’t have the excuse of the menu anymore so he pulled out his own phone. No one had sent him any messages or e-mail. He tapped his favorite site about the Coast Guard Academy but all the words seemed too small, completely unreadable.
He listened hard, trying to figure out what Sean and Brian were talking about, but the romantic music was too loud.
“What are they doing now?”
“I’m going to shoot you with a flare gun,” Steven said. “Stop torturing yourself.”
“It’s not torture. It’s information.”
“Get your information the old-fashioned way and go talk to them,” Steven suggested.
Denny insisted, “They should come over here.”
“You are just like a twelve-year-old girl,” Steven said. “Last night you were frisky in the surf and tonight you think he’s cheating on you?”
“We weren’t frisky,” Denny replied. But of course they were. He felt a pang at how nice it had been to feel Brian’s hands and taste his lips and now they were like strangers, and he didn’t know why.
The bell rang behind him, signifying someone leaving or entering. Steven’s gaze went past Denny’s shoulder and he blanched.
“Oh, man,” he said. “Ambushed.”
Denny had to turn around to see. Kelsey, Jennifer, and Melissa had come in, all of them shiny and pretty, a trio of best friends forever. They took a round table in the middle of the room and didn’t cast a single gaze toward Steven. Melissa tossed her blond hair and Jennifer adjusted her red miniskirt and Kelsey applied a new layer of pink gloss. When Louanne went to them with a big smile, it was just like the Three Musketeers meeting up with d’Artagnan. Next there’d be a revolution, and Denny figured there’d be two Anderson heads on the chopping block.
“She called them, I know she did,” Steven muttered. “You can’t trust anyone these days.”
Denny’s gaze slid by the girls to Brian, who was gazing right back at him. Still with that unhappy, pained look. Denny turned right back around, heart pounding.
“I say we run for our lives,” Steven said. “Right out the back door.”
But he didn’t make a move, and neither did Denny. The romantic song segued into something even sappier. Louanne served drinks to Melissa, Kelsey, and Jennifer before she brought Steven and Denny’s without a smile.
Denny tasted his. “I think she spiked it with diet.”
Steven pushed his glass away. “We’re lucky if they’re not poisoned.”
“I get that you’re a jerk, but what did I do?”
“I’m not a jerk,” Steven protested. “I took a vow.”
“And ignored everyone’s messages,” Denny pointed out.
Steven picked up his phone and stared into the screen. “I’m just going to pretend I’m somewhere else now.”
Denny wished he could do the same. Instead, he was hyperaware of Brian staring at the back of his head. Like laser beams boring into his skull. When he couldn’t stand it anymore he stood up.
“Where are you going?” Steven said sharply.
“Bathroom.”
“If you crawl out the window, I’ll kill you.”
“You’d have to catch me first,” Denny retorted.
The bathroom window was large enough, sure, but he wasn’t in there to escape. He splashed cold water on his face and searched his reflection for signs of guilt. Brian was the one who should feel guilty. Not returning messages, having dinner behind his back… Denny tried to muster enough indignation to return to the table. When he emerged, shoulders squared, Sean was waiting for him in the narrow hallway.
“I thought maybe you drowned in there,” Sean said.
“No,” Denny said awkwardly. “Didn’t drown.”
“So it’s none of my business, I know,” Sean went on, “but you need to go in there and apologize and maybe he’ll listen. I mean, not right in there, because he kind of left, but I asked him to wait in the parking lot—”
Denny cut him off. “What am I apologizing for?”
Sean gave him an incredulous look. “Hello? The party that you didn’t invite him to? I’d be mad, too.”
“The party…” Denny groaned. “Aunt Riza.”
“Your mom let it slip.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Denny said, but it sounded lame to his own ears. Didn’t mean to keep the news from Brian? Didn’t mean to mislead him? He’d done Brian wrong and they both knew it.
Sean punched him lightly in the arm. “Go grovel, champ.”
*
Brian knew Fisher Key was small—you could walk the island from north to south in an hour—but it was rotten luck Denny had walked right into the place where he and Sean were having dinner. Then again, there weren’t that many restaurants on the island, and maybe he’d hoped Denny would find them there.
Standing in the parking lot as the sun dipped in the west, he tried not to think too hard about the flash of hurt that had crossed Denny’s face. The quick, pained flinch of someone who thought he’d been betrayed. Not that Sean and Brian were doing anything wrong, really. Commiseration was not a crime. Brian needed advice on handling Denny and this whole party thing, and Sean was the best source of information.
“He’s really upset,” Sean had said, when Denny and Steven sat in the far booth.
“How can you tell?”
“He sits up straighter when he’s hiding something,” Sean said, dipping his very last French fry into a pool of ketchup. “Go talk to him.”
Brian felt a little glow of satisfaction that Denny was hurt. He deserved it. At the same time, it caused a twisty feeling in Brian’s gut, and the onion rings on his plate turned completely unappealing. He insisted, “He should come over here.”
“He won’t.” Sean sighed. “You really want to play games? You waiting for him, him waiting for you? I mean, maybe it feels righteous or something, but I think it’s just a waste of time. Get it over with, like ripping off a bandage.”
Brian wasn’t convinced. He remained in his seat and watched as Steven’s sort-of girlfriend Kelsey came in with two of her friends. Denny didn’t turn around. Sean’s sister Louanne was overly friendly with the girls but gave Denny and Steven curt service. Brian couldn’t bring himself to care.
When Denny went to the bathroom, Brian decided it was time to leave.
“Thanks for listening,” he said, pulling out enough money for both of their tabs. “I’ve got to go.”
Sean rolled his eyes. “Wait in the parking lot, okay? Don’t leave. I’ll get him out there.”
“How?”
“Trust me. I am wise in the ways of Andersons.”
Standing in the crushed-shell sid
e lot, hands in his pockets, Brian tried to figure out what Denny was going to say, and what he’d say in return. It was like writing a movie script in his head.
Denny would probably say something like, “My aunt’s embarrassed about me.”
Brian would reply, “That doesn’t mean you can hurt other people.”
Denny would say, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
And Brian would say, “Someone always gets hurt when you lie.”
He was so busy rehearsing lines that he almost missed Denny’s footsteps behind him. He turned as Denny stopped a few feet away. Denny had a stricken look on his face, equal parts ashamed and contrite.
“I’m sorry,” he said, before Brian could even say anything. “I shouldn’t have lied about it. That was a crappy thing to do.”
Brian took a deep breath. “Yeah. It was.”
Denny’s gaze remained steady. He didn’t seem to notice the cars whizzing by on the Overseas Highways nearby, or the noisy tourists piling out of a jeep that had just parked, or the hum as the neon lights flickered on in the Li’l Conch’s large rooftop sign.
“I don’t know how to do it yet,” Denny said. “How you balance what you want and your family wants, or what you owe them and what you owe people you love.”
Brian felt sucker-punched.
“You think you love me?” he asked, his voice faint.
Denny went pale. Maybe he hadn’t meant to say it, or maybe he regretted it. But he kept talking.
“I think the other night in the water was the happiest I’ve ever been,” he said. “And that’s got to mean something.”
Brian took a deep breath. “It doesn’t have to mean love. We haven’t known each other long enough for that. I mean, it’s crazy.”
Denny wasn’t backing down. “Maybe not, if love is something rational. Is it?”
The breeze rustled through palm fronds above them, whispering some kind of secret Brian didn’t understand. He was torn between the urge to wrap his arms around Denny in the tightest way possible and the instinct to flee, to get out of this parking lot, because he couldn’t talk about love when he was still so angry about Denny’s deception.
“I can’t do this right now,” he said. “I need some time.”