by Alex Tully
It was pretty messed up, but still no Debbie.
“Emma’s your sister?” she asked.
“My twin sister. We’re really close—it seems like we’ve always been on our own. I mean, we’ve had nannies and stuff, but my parents were gone a lot. It’s always been just the two of us.”
“Kind of like me and Parker. His mom died years ago.”
“Oh, that sucks…was she sick?”
“Well, I guess you could say that. She OD’d, it was bad.”
“Oh man, poor kid.”
“Yeah, and even though he has his grandma—I feel like we have this special bond. Kind of always been the two of us against the world.”
He smiled and nodded as if he understood.
And she returned the smile—to the stranger named Ethan, who had completely transformed before her very eyes.
“Well,” she glanced at her phone, “we should probably be heading back. Can you grab the anchor?”
“Sure,” he leaned over the side and started pulling up the steel chain, and that’s when she heard it.
A sound in the distance, out over the open lake—the faint rumble of thunder.
CHAPTER 13
ETHAN
Dr. Malone called them triggers.
Some were worse than others, but they all could initiate a physical response in the body. After a lot of therapy, and his own research on PTSD, Ethan learned that in extremely dangerous situations, the human body had coping mechanisms to survive. These things were automatic, just like when someone ran a fever to fight off a virus, or lost their lunch when they ate something bad. And every single animal on the planet had it—fight or flight.
After a trigger, the hypothalamus in the brain activated the sympathetic nervous system which then released a shitload of hormones into the body. These stress hormones put the body in a position to fight—or to run like hell. Either way, there would be increased heart rate, increased blood pressure, tense muscles, chills, and a complete mental shut down to focus on one thing only—the threat.
The faint rumble of thunder was the trigger, and the flicker of lightning he saw in the distance was the threat.
“We have to go now,” he pulled up the anchor so fast, he almost knocked himself out with it.
“I know, I’m trying,” Zoe muttered, “it’s just sometimes it takes a minute…”
Why weren’t they moving? He watched her pull the start rope on the outboard motor, and nothing happened. She pulled again. Nothing.
The motor was dead.
As if Ethan was on auto-pilot, he moved to the back of the boat, grabbed onto the motor chain, and yanked it so hard, he was lucky it didn’t snap right off. Nothing.
In the dim light, his eyes scanned the motor. He’d been around boats his whole life, but this wasn’t the typical motor—it was like an antique.
Regardless, all of the information he had stored up over the summers came to the forefront. He checked the sparkplugs, he checked the oil line, he checked the fuel line. One by one, he examined each piece of the motor, his brain focused on only one thing—getting the fuck out of there. He checked the crankshaft, he checked the bearings…he couldn’t see anything wrong with it. The motor was old as hell, but all of the parts seemed intact.
Think Ethan, think…
Zoe was saying something in the background, but it was just muffled background noise—he ignored it.
He began scanning the floor of the boat, “Are there any tools on the boat?”
“What? No, I don’t think so.”
He was feeling around the bottom when she grabbed his arm to stop him, “Ethan!”
He looked up, and realized she had been shouting.
“Ethan?” her eyes were wide, “Are you listening?”
He nodded.
“This has happened before, okay?”
He nodded again.
“It’s just flooded, but it will start.”
He nodded again.
“It just needs a little time, I promise.”
Time? It just needed time? They didn’t have fucking time. The rumbles of thunder were getting louder. A storm was coming and the motor wouldn’t start!
He closed his eyes and right then a big fat raindrop plopped onto his cheek. Then another fell, and another. He sat motionless as the rain began to fall. He couldn’t move—he was officially trapped. He went into shut-down mode.
“Ethan!” Zoe was in front of him now, “Ethan, are you okay?”
His catastrophic ‘what if’ scenario, had officially become a ‘what is’ scenario. The boat was going to flood, and sink, and…he opened his eyes and looked at the flimsy orange life jacket hanging off of Zoe’s small frame. And Zoe was going to die under the black water.
“Two more minutes, okay? That’s all we need and it will start! I promise!”
They would be sinking in two minutes.
“Oh my god Ethan! You’re scaring me!”
He suddenly felt her hands on the side of his wet face, “Ethan, please…”
And then something happened, something he thought might be a dream, but soon realized was very real.
She kissed him. Her lips were on his, and she was kissing him.
And her mouth was soft and warm, and he felt the heat from her begin spreading through him. And for that moment, he forgot where he was, he forgot about the storm, he forgot about the catastrophe, he forgot about it all. With the rain pouring down around them, she kissed him.
And he kissed her back.
And they kept kissing…
Until a bolt of lightning cracked so loudly, that they were both jolted apart from each other.
For a split second, they stared at each other. What just happened? Then Zoe reached for the motor, “Let’s try it again!” she shouted through the rain.
“I’ll do it!” Ethan grabbed the piece of wood at the end of the pull chord. He gave it one good yank and like music to his ears, the motor sputtered into a steady roar.
He grabbed the steering throttle and maneuvered the boat back around, back toward the lighthouse. Back to safety.
CHAPTER 14
ZOE
Zoe was half-frozen from the torrential downpour, but she was all warm and fuzzy inside. Ethan had taken control of the boat, which was fine by her because it was a rocky ride back. She put her head down and curled herself up into a ball, trying to escape some of the pelting rain.
Holy crap… She couldn’t believe she just kissed him.
Did they just have the most amazing, unbelievably perfect kiss she’d ever had in her entire life? Not that she had a huge sample size to judge from, but OMG!
At first, it was a pure panic response. He was like catatonic—he was scaring her, and she didn’t know what to do. She thought if she tried to shake him out of it, he might freak out more. And she definitely wasn’t going to smack him, so the next thought was, maybe if I kiss him he’ll snap out of it. And it worked. Oh my—it better than worked.
Through sheets of rain, she could see the old Sunny Shores dock come into view with all the twinkling lights from Crystal Waters just a little further down the shore. Ethan cut the motor and they coasted up to the side of the dock like he had done it a hundred times before.
Grabbing the rope from the dock, he tied the boat on exactly how it was when she took it. He hopped onto the dock and held his hand out to her. She reached for it and didn’t let go as they both ran down the dock, through the rain, hand in hand.
When they got to shore, he led her under the huge oak tree in front of the Hart’s trailer, for a little bit of shelter, “Hey, would you want to come over to my boat for a little bit? Just to dry off before you go home?”
She couldn’t help herself from smiling, “Sure.”
As soon as they stepped inside the yacht, it was quiet—like they weren’t on a boat at all. She looked around casually trying not to show her surprise.
The main cabin was huge, probably bigger than her entire trailer. The walls were rich wood, with rows of windows flank
ing both sides. A leather couch wrapped around a glass table in the center. Toward the stern, there was a large dining table that could probably seat ten.
“I bet my sister is about the same size as you,” Ethan said, “do you want to go down and see what she has?”
For a second she didn’t get what he was saying, and then it registered, “Oh, are you sure she won’t mind?”
“She won’t even know it’s gone. If you go down below, the second room on the right is hers.” She has her own room—on a boat?
Zoe made her way down the staircase, which led into a narrow hallway. All of the doors were closed except the first on the left. It was a bathroom, and she needed to pee, “Hey, can I use your bathroom?” she yelled up.
“Yeah, of course!”
She flipped on the light and looked around. It was by far the nicest bathroom she had ever seen. Everything sparkled—white marble vanity, a ginormous glass shower, fixtures in shiny chrome. Navy blue guest towels with a monogrammed P completed the look.
Yep, she was definitely in La La Land.
She had never been ashamed of where she’d lived. Embarrassed maybe, but not ashamed—there was a big difference. Being ashamed implied that she had somehow done something wrong—that where she lived was somehow under her control—and it wasn’t. She had no control over the fact that she lived in a shitty old trailer with a cracked-out mom.
No, she wouldn’t be ashamed. Screw that.
She walked over to Emma’s room and flipped on the light. A wave of resentment hit her hard as she surveyed her surroundings. She might not feel ashamed, but she could definitely still feel envy.
Under a round port-hole, and built into the wall, was a queen-sized bed. It was made up with the most luxurious-looking white linens and throw pillows. On one wall, hung a beautiful tapestry full of different shades of blue. On the other wall was the closet, open and full of the cutest clothes. Forget the H&M shit she bought at the Sandusky Mall—everything in that closet was the good stuff.
She quickly took off her drenched clothes and tried to pick out something that didn’t look expensive. The best she could do was a Nike sweatshirt that looked like it had been worn at least once and some running shorts. She bundled her wet clothes into a ball and headed back upstairs.
Ethan had changed his clothes too, “Do you want something to drink? I mean we have a Keurig, so we have like hot chocolate, tea, or whatever.”
Who was this boy?
“Sure, hot chocolate would be great.”
He disappeared into a little kitchenette area, so Zoe sat down on the couch and started checking her phone. No new texts. The last text on her phone was from Meredith. They’d been going back and forth after Debbie decided to bring half the Outrigger home with her.
Zoe 11:48 pm: I hate Debbie. She’s having a party again.
Meredith 11:49 pm: Do you want me to come get you?
Zoe 11:52 pm: No it’s fine. I’ll deal.
Meredith 11:53 pm: You sure?
Zoe 11:54 pm: I’m sure, night
Meredith 11:55 pm: Night
But then it wasn’t fine when some random guy, who was probably like forty, busted into her bedroom holding a giant purple bong and asked her if she wanted to party. That’s when she lost it and went off on Debbie—really went off. But it didn’t do any good—it never did.
Debbie was drunk, “Jesus Zoe, would you loosen up for once and have a little fun?”
So Zoe did what she’d done many times before—she left. But this time, she ended up on a yacht, wearing expensive clothes, with a cute boy who was making her hot chocolate. Not a bad turn of events…
“Sorry,” Ethan handed her the mug, “we don’t have any marshmallows.” He sat next to her on the couch. Flip-flop.
“Well, that’s not acceptable. I would think you’d have a variety of marshmallows, you know the teeny-tiny ones and the really big giant ones.”
He looked at her so seriously, that she had to quickly add, “I’m kidding!” She took a sip, “it’s perfect, thanks.”
He smiled, “You know, you can sleep here if you want—on the couch, I mean.”
“Ummm…” Of course she wanted to sleep over! Why should she go home? It’s not like Debbie would ever even know she was gone anyway.
Then he added, “I can go sleep down below.”
She didn’t need any convincing, “Are you sure it’s okay?”
“Yeah,” he smiled, “it’s totally fine—I’ll go grab you a pillow and blanket.” He almost jumped off the couch and disappeared down the stairwell. He was back in seconds with the white fluffy comforter and one of the pillows from his sister’s bed. OMG she was sleeping over!
“Thanks,” she propped the pillow up next to her.
He sat back down on the couch, even closer than before and she could smell his cologne—or soap—or whatever it was. They sipped their cocoa in silence and she said the first thing that popped into her head, “So what’s the name of this boat?”
“The Sea-quester, my parent’s picked it.”
“Ah, because they’re lawyers…that’s clever.”
“I’m sure they thought that.”
“So how big is the Sea-quester?”
He shrugged, “I’m not sure.”
“Oh c’mon Ethan you know exactly how big it is.”
“Maybe sixty feet, something like that.”
“Wow,” she looked around, admiring all of the gleaming woodwork.
“You know, this isn’t mine,” he waved his hand around, “none of it is mine. My parents own this, not me.”
She immediately regretted asking him the question. She wasn’t trying to give him a hard time, she was just genuinely curious, “I’m sorry, I didn’t—.”
“No,” he stopped her, “I’m sorry. I just get frustrated sometimes, it’s hard to explain…”
“It’s okay, I get it. People label you, judge you, because of what you have…or don’t have. I’m poor, trailer-trash girl, you’re spoiled, country-club boy.”
He laughed, “Okay…”
“You know what I mean. It’s like, we don’t have any control over it. You can’t choose your parents.”
“Exactly,” Ethan agreed, “And you should never worry about what you can’t control, Dr. Malone’s famous last words.”
Dr. Malone? She took another sip of hot chocolate and waited.
“Um…he’s my doctor,” he paused, “my psychiatrist.”
After seeing his reaction on Frankie’s boat earlier, Zoe knew Ethan had some serious issues. She kept thinking about what he said on the boat before all hell broke loose, that he actually had his shit together—before last year. So, whatever happened to him last year must’ve been pretty traumatic, but she definitely wasn’t going to ask about it.
“Sometimes I wish I could go see a therapist,” she offered instead.
“Really?” his eyebrows lifted in the cutest way.
“Don’t you think I need to?” She was half-kidding, half not. She wondered, would it be better to live a crappy life for sixteen years and slowly get screwed up, or to live a wonderful life for sixteen years and traumatically get screwed up?
“Honestly,” he smiled, “you really seem like you’ve got your shit together.”
If only he knew. She knew how to keep her ‘shit together’ in front of people because she had to do it her whole life. Inside, she was damaged just like him—maybe in a different way, but still damaged, “Well you don’t really know me that well yet.”
He smiled back, “Yet.”
For a second they just looked at each other. Oh my God, was he going to kiss her?
But then he stood up, “Well, I’m gonna head downstairs, do you need anything before I go?”
Yes! A goodnight kiss, please! “I’m good, thanks.”
“Alright, goodnight then.” He turned and disappeared down the stairs.
She pulled the covers up over her head. How was she going to fall asleep???
CHAPTER 15
PARKER
He woke up early because he wanted to go out on the dock to fish—that’s what he told Grams anyways. He really wanted to see what was going on over at Ethan’s yacht.
“Parker!” Grams yelled from the screened porch where she had her morning coffee, “You need to eat something before you go anywhere!”
Crap. He didn’t have time for eating.
He whipped open the kitchen cabinet and pulled out the box of Cheerios. He poured the milk, sat down at the table, and began shoveling down mouthfuls. In record timing, he finished his cereal, put his bowl in the sink, and was out the door.
“Hey!” He hadn’t even made it off the porch and Grams was yelling again, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Shit!” it came out, and there was no putting it back in.
“Parker Alan Webb! Watch the language!”
“Sorry Grams,” he rushed back to the shed behind the trailer. He grabbed his tackle box and his favorite pole.
“I swear you’d forget your head if it wasn’t screwed on.” And then she called out after him, to remind him for the millionth time, “You are not to leave that dock, do you hear me? And come back in an hour to check in!”
“Yeah yeah, I know the drill Grams!”
If he had a cell phone like every other person in the world, he could just text her. But trying to tell her that was like ‘beating a dead horse.’ That was another one of her favorite expressions—and a pretty sick one, he thought.
As soon as he got down to the dock, he plopped his fishing gear down. He pulled out a spinner lure and put it on the line. Live bait was too much of a hassle—it was just fake fishing anyway. He cast out his line, and looked over at the yacht—all was quiet.
That’s not what it was like last night when he saw Zoe and Ethan coming in on Frankie’s boat. Then they went into his yacht—Parker had watched the whole thing.
Debbie-downer was having one of her parties—everyone heard it. Grams was about to call the police when they heard Zoe screaming her head off. It was a massive fight—he’d never heard Zoe like that—ever.
“These people have to leave!” she yelled, “I have to work in the morning!”
