by Kate Brian
Joaquin, Lauren, Bea, Kevin, Cori, and Krista all turned to look at me.
“Oh no,” I said, backing up. “No way. I’ll just wait for you guys in the Jeep.”
“Come on, Rory. It’s an amazing feeling,” Bea said imploringly.
“Here, look. I’ll do it. It’s fine,” Cori told me.
Then she turned and jumped, disappearing from view in a snap. The rest of them cheered, hooted, and hollered. This time I didn’t look, but I heard her shout up to us when she emerged.
“The water’s perfect!”
Crazy. They were all crazy. Every last one of them. I turned and walked away as fast as I could, my pulse thrumming in my ears. Krista, Bea, and Lauren came after me, but I threw my hands up at them, my sneakers crunching across the pebbles and sand.
“You guys do whatever you want to do,” I said. “But just FYI, peer pressure is pretty lost on me.”
“We’re not trying to peer-pressure you,” Bea said, screwing up her face as if I’d offended her. “If you don’t want to do it, don’t do it.”
“Why are you even doing it?” I demanded, feeling annoyed and embarrassed that they were all so blasé about something that scared the breath out of me. “That has to be a twenty-story drop!”
Bea shrugged. “Because we can. There’s a lot you can do when you realize you can’t die.”
My gaze darted past her to the edge. So that was what this was about. Illustrating Joaquin’s point. I was going to “live” forever. Which meant nothing could hurt me. Not in a permanent way.
But still. That didn’t mean I was ready to jump off a cliff.
“Hey, if you don’t want to jump, don’t worry,” Krista said, reaching for my hand with both of hers. Her skin was warm and soft. “We’ll sit this one out with you.”
“We will?” Bea asked, disappointed.
“Don’t let me stop you,” I said.
“No. We want to hang out with you, right?” Krista said to the others as she tugged me toward a grouping of large rocks. “Let’s sit.”
Bea sighed, looking longingly over at the cliff. “Fine.”
“I’m in,” Lauren said with a shrug.
Krista and I settled down on a wide, flat, gray rock and Bea and Lauren perched around us. Bea sat with her knees together, her feet apart, and pushed her hair behind her shoulders, her jaw clenched. Lauren fiddled with the gold seashell she wore on a chain around her neck. I glanced over my shoulder at the waves far below, feeling awkward. Being the center of attention was not my thing.
“So,” Krista began, biting her lip. “Are you okay?”
I froze. Had Tristan said something to her? “Yeah. Why?”
“Just Joaquin kept going on about how we had to cheer you up, and when Tristan came into the general store this morning after your tour, he wouldn’t even look me in the eye,” Krista explained. “Did something happen between you two?”
“Me and Tristan?” I squeaked. “No. Of course not. We’re not, I mean, he’s not—”
“Oh god. You like him, don’t you?” Krista squealed.
“Ugh. Not another one,” Bea said bluntly.
“What do you mean, another one?” I asked.
Lauren leaned back on her hands. “Just don’t let Nadia find out.”
“I knew it!” I exclaimed. “She likes him, doesn’t she?”
Silence. The three of them exchanged knowing looks, and a new and awful thought occurred to me, one that would explain everything that had happened this morning and also make it ten times more embarrassing.
“Wait a minute. Are Tristan and Nadia, like, together?”
“Uh, no,” Krista said with a scoff. “Please.”
“Not that she doesn’t want to,” Lauren sang, pushing her legs out straight.
“Lauren!” Bea kicked Lauren’s shin with her toe.
“What?” Lauren was wide-eyed. “I’m just saying! Rory should know. If you have a thing for Tristan, it’s better to know. Trust me.”
I blinked. Did Lauren have a thing for Tristan, too?
“What do you mean? Wait, is that why she’s always lurking around and glaring at me?”
“She’s been lurking?” Krista blurted out.
Bea sighed loudly and raised her eyes to the stars. “I don’t know about the lurking, but Lauren’s talking about the Jessica Rule.”
“What’s the Jessica Rule?” I asked.
Someone let out a loud whoop, and when we looked over, Kevin had disappeared from sight. We waited a couple of minutes until we heard him whoop again, his voice echoing up from the depths.
“Are you losers doing this or what?” Joaquin shouted to us.
“Keep your pants on!” Bea shouted back.
He laughed, then pulled off his shirt before diving over the edge.
“What’s the Jessica Rule?” I repeated.
“Basically, the deal is this,” Lauren began, tucking her glossy dark hair behind her ears. “Jessica was this Lifer who got here way before the three of us did, and apparently Tristan fell for her. Like, big-time fell. We’re talking running barefoot through the fields, swearing undying devotion under the stars, epic kind of romance.”
I squirmed, my toes curling inside my sneakers. “And?”
Lauren’s eyes sparkled with mischief in a way that made me think of my sister and her friends back home. They got that exact same look on their face when they had good dirt. She leaned toward me conspiratorially.
“And then she—”
“Broke up with him,” Bea interrupted curtly. Lauren whipped around to glare at her. “She broke up with him, broke his heart, and he vowed to never get into a relationship with another Lifer. Which is what Nadia found out when she tried to get together with him upon her arrival. What was it? Thirty years ago now?”
“Why not?” I asked. “I mean, why not ever get into another relationship? People break up all the time.”
Krista took a breath. “Because she—”
Suddenly I was blinded by a flash of light. We all turned around at the sound of a gunned engine. A black sports car with a huge firebird painted on its hood came flying up the hill out of nowhere and skidded to a stop, spraying dirt and pebbles all over the place. Pete clambered out from behind the wheel and jogged over to the jumping point, leaving the engine running and the radio and lights on. He peeled a white tank top off over his head.
“Woo-hoo!” he shouted. And then he flipped off the edge.
Yep. Crazy people. I was living among a bunch of crazy people. I was just turning back to the conversation when the passenger-side door opened, and Nadia stepped out. She looked right at me with a cocky expression, slammed the door, and sauntered over. Her Mohawk was spikier this evening, and she wore thick black eyeliner that made her dark eyes look huge.
“What’re you girls doing?” she said teasingly, pushing her hands into the pockets of her black vinyl jacket. “Getting a knitting circle going?”
They were the first words I’d actually heard her speak. Bea, Lauren, and Krista all turned to look at me.
“What?” Nadia said, looking down her nose at me.
I pushed myself up to my feet, my insides shivering and sliding. Nadia eyed me with interest.
“Do you have a problem with me?” I demanded. Bea, Lauren, and Krista all stood up around us, forming a circle.
She lifted a shoulder. “I have a few, actually,” she spat, looking me up and down like I was dirt.
“What?” I asked, turning my palms out. “If this is about Tristan—”
“Tristan?” she barked indignantly. “Are you kidding me? This is not about Tristan. It’s about the fact that I don’t trust you.”
My jaw dropped. “What did I ever do to you?”
Bea and Lauren exchanged an alarmed glance, as if they knew what was coming and didn’t like it.
“Like you don’t know,” Nadia said, jutting her chin.
My fingers curled in frustration. “Enlighten me.”
“Okay, fine,” Nadi
a said. “Ever since you got here, something’s off. All this strange stuff has been happening.”
My eyes narrowed. “What strange stuff?”
“That’s not her fault,” Lauren said to Nadia, not defensively, but as if my innocence were obvious.
“How do you know?” Nadia demanded. “No one knows for sure.”
“What strange stuff?” I repeated, looking around at the others.
“Stop acting like you don’t know!” Nadia shouted, getting right in my face.
“Nadia, that’s enough!” Bea shouted, grabbing her arm.
“Lay off, Beatrice.” Nadia whirled on her. “You don’t tell me what I can and can’t say.”
“If Tristan were here, he would say the same thing,” Bea said, stepping toward her menacingly. She was a good foot taller than Nadia, with a lot more muscle. “So, shut. The hell. Up.”
Nadia’s pale face grew red. “Fine. But I know I’m right,” she said, glaring at me. “And I’m going to prove it.”
Then she turned around and took off, storming across the dirt and rocks toward Pete’s car. No one spoke. Nadia got behind the wheel and peeled out.
“What was she talking about?” I asked when the growl of the engine faded to a dull hum. “What weird stuff has been happening since I got here?”
Krista opened her mouth to speak, but Bea shook her head, silencing her.
“Lauren?” I said.
“I can’t. It’s not my place,” she told me, pulling her hands up under the cuffs of her sweatshirt.
Frustration burbled inside my chest, threatening to boil over. “Then whose place is it?”
No one said a word.
“Whose place is it?” I shouted. “Is it Tristan’s?”
Still no answer. Lauren looked over her shoulder as if there were someone there who could help them out of this awkward mess.
“Fine. I’m outta here,” I spat, striding away. “So glad I can trust my new family.”
“Rory! Come on! It’s at least two miles back to town!” Krista cried after me.
“Good thing I’m a runner!” I called back.
I kept walking, charging straight into the dark, my feet twisting and slipping over the uneven terrain. Trees rose up on both sides of the road, and a stiff wind sent a shower of curled brown leaves over my head and shoulders. I pulled my sweatshirt tighter and clenched my teeth.
I trudged around a bend in the road and froze when I saw a pair of headlights gleaming up ahead, illuminating a wild stretch of weeds. The car was sleek and silver, idling in the silence. The brake lights were on, and the window started to slide down as I arrived. Something moved off to my right, and I ducked down behind a wild berry bush, peering over the uneven branches. Officer Dorn slid down an embankment—an embankment from which he could have seen everything going on at the cliff—and walked over to the car, his black patent-leather shoes gleaming in the moonlight.
He leaned in toward the car window to talk to the driver, but I couldn’t hear anything over the sound of the blood whooshing in my ears. The conversation went on for a few minutes before the window slid up again and the car slowly rolled away. Dorn stood up straight, sighed, and checked his watch before moving off in the opposite direction.
When I stood up on solid ground once more, my knees were shaking.
Dorn seemed to be everywhere lately. I thought of the accusatory look he and Grantz had given me in the park along with Nadia, and that odd feeling I’d had at Tristan’s this morning, like someone was listening—watching. And was it just a coincidence that Pete had happened by on the bay last night, or had he been following me, too?
A cold wind blew all around me, and I shivered from head to toe. I raced up to the road and headed south as fast as I could. I wanted answers, and as far as I could tell, there was only one place on this island I could get them.
Tristan was alone behind the bar at the Thirsty Swan, methodically moving a white rag in circles over the dark wood surface. I hesitated outside the screen door, all the dashed hope and hot humiliation from that morning rushing back, and I started rethinking this whole idea. But it wasn’t as if I could avoid him forever.
Holding my breath, I pulled open the screen door and let it bang shut behind me. It was the first time I’d ever seen the place so still and silent, the only sound the even ticking of the fan at the center of the ceiling as it pushed the salty air around the room.
“Sorry, we’re closed,” Tristan said, looking up. When he saw me standing there, he paused, and a pained look passed quickly through his eyes. “Rory,” he said, dropping the rag. I found myself staring at his hands. “What’s up?”
Focus, Rory. Focus.
“Who’s Jessica?” I asked.
Tristan reached out and gripped the edge of the bar. His chest went concave, as if I’d just shot him through the heart. Wow. Lauren wasn’t exaggerating when she’d used the word epic.
“How…who told you about Jessica?” he asked finally, his voice a whisper.
I strode over to the counter, trying for cool detachment. All the chairs had been turned upside down and placed atop the tables, their spindly legs reaching toward the ceiling. Beneath my feet, the floor shone. I glanced toward the kitchen doors, the light glowing through the cracks, and wondered if anyone else was there.
“Lauren, mostly,” I told him matter-of-factly. “Right before Nadia showed up and accused me of being responsible for all this strange stuff that’s been going on. Any idea what that’s about?”
Tristan’s eyes flashed. “She shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “I’ll talk to her.”
I slid onto a seat. “So what happened between you and Jessica?” I asked, folding my hands in front of me.
Tristan sighed, pressing both hands onto the surface of the bar. Outside, a bell dinged mournfully as a boat made its way into the marina.
“Jessica broke my heart,” he told me, his jaw working. “I thought she was…perfect. But she turned out to be the exact opposite.” He took a deep breath and looked me over as if deciding whether or not he should say whatever was on the tip of his tongue. “She was the first Lifer to ever go bad.”
I felt as if the bar stool had just tipped beneath me. “What do you mean, go bad?”
Tristan turned his profile to me. He pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger, considering, then walked out from behind the bar, taking the stool next to mine. He turned toward me, and the outside of his thigh pressed against the inside of mine. My heart flip-flopped, heat radiating up my leg, through my chest, and all the way into my scalp. Then it flip-flopped again when he didn’t move away.
“Do you remember yesterday when we told you what would happen if you told your father and sister what was really going on here?” he asked, looking into my eyes.
“How could I forget?” I said, my pulse thrumming quickly in my wrists, my ears, my chest.
“Well, Jessica decided that it was…immoral of us to keep that secret,” Tristan told me. “She thought that the visitors deserved to know the truth. So she went from house to house…telling them.”
“What?” I breathed.
Tristan nodded, staring past me with a far-off look. “What happened next was not pretty. It was devastating, actually.” Suddenly his eyes welled and without thinking, I reached out and placed my hand over his. He froze for a second, his muscles tensing, then clutched me back. I held my breath, staring down at our fingers, feeling the warmth of his skin pressed against mine.
“What happened?” I asked.
“You have to understand this was a long time ago,” Tristan said, touching his leather bracelet. “The people who were here at that time…they’d died during the first World War—they’d seen their brothers and sons go off and never come back. Some had gone with little or no food for weeks on end, watched their children suffering. The population of Juniper Landing was generally…”
“Pissed off?” I supplied, even as I absorbed this new information—that Tristan had been her
e at least as long as Joaquin had.
He looked at me and snorted. “Yeah. Pissed off.” He blew out a breath. “So pissed off they formed a mob.”
I gulped. “A mob?”
Tristan nodded sadly. “Mobs were big back then.”
“What did you do?” I asked.
“There was nothing much we could do,” he replied. “We tried to reason with them, but once angry people get together and are out for blood, they’re not satisfied until they get it. Fighting broke out and a lot of people were hurt, but eventually we got it under control.” He pressed his lips together, chagrined. “We Lifers knew the island a lot better. We had what Dorn would call a tactical advantage.”
My nerves sizzled at the mention of Dorn, and I thought once more of him whispering to the person in the silver car. “Was he here?”
Tristan shook his head. “Not yet. He’s a lot newer. Showed up during the first Gulf War.”
“Oh.” I said, doing quick calculations in my mind. How long had Tristan been here that twenty years felt “new”?
“Anyway, we had to round up everyone Jessica had told and take them to the bridge,” Tristan continued, his blue eyes dark with pain. “That was the worst part, sending all those people to the Shadowlands.”
A twisting ache filled my chest. “But it wasn’t their fault Jessica told them.”
“Yes, but that’s the rule,” Tristan said emphatically. “It’s there to scare Lifers out of telling people the truth and robbing them of their chance to resolve their issues, but Jessica clearly didn’t care about that, and once it was done, there was nothing we could do to change it. I couldn’t have sent them off to the Light at that point any more than I could have saved Jessica. It’s the coins that make the decision, and the coins knew. They were all damned to the Shadowlands.”
He released my hand and pressed his palms into his jeans, breathing in and out. He shook his head and glanced up at the ceiling with this look in his eyes, like he couldn’t believe any of this had actually happened, even though it had been almost a hundred years ago.
“But that’s so…wrong,” I said. “Is there any way to change the rules?”
He looked at me and scoffed sadly. “I wish.”
