“And where’s the principle of that thing?” Clarissa replied. Demetria appeared to concede the point.
“Also,” Jenny said, “it doesn’t have its own bathroom. We’d have to hike back to use the shower house near the kitchens.”
“What?” I asked, while Clarissa shrugged and Demetria’s expression grew mildly less combative. “What do you mean, no bathrooms? What kind of luxury resort is this?”
All three of them blinked at me. “What do you mean?” Clarissa asked. “It’s our own private island. How much more luxurious can it get?”
And that was Miss Park Avenue talking. I instantly felt foolish.
“Yeah,” Jenny said. “No other club on campus has an island to call their own.”
What could I say to that? That I’d been expecting a fair approximation of the Ritz, on top of my own private island? I sank even farther into the bench cushions. Spring Break Score: so far, so crappy.
“Poor Amy,” Clarissa said, sitting by my side and putting a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry. If I’d been through what you had today, I’d be looking for some creature comforts as well. It’s okay. As soon as this tour is over, we’ll get you all settled in.”
“I’ll skip the tour,” Jenny offered, crouching on my other side. “I’ll find my way around later. Like Clarissa said, it’s not like Cavador Key is that big to start with. Besides,” she added. “I owe you one.” True. I’d stood by Jenny during her nervous breakdown last semester.
“What about George?” Clarissa asked. “He’s been here before. He can take her to her cabin.”
“I’m sure the last thing Amy wants is to have George tuck her into bed,” Demetria said.
“Maybe the last thing you would want,” Clarissa said under her breath, but I heard it nonetheless.
Before I had a chance to react, I heard someone clear his throat, and then Poe was standing there, still sopping. His black hair was swept back from his face, except for a few lone strands that hung over his forehead like slash marks and left trails of water sliding over his cheekbones.
Had no one given him a towel?
“I came to see if you were all right,” he said, as if the others weren’t standing between us.
“She’s fine, just shaken,” Jenny said, her voice cold.
I opened my mouth to thank him for saving my life, but once again, my sore throat refused to perform.
“I’m taking Darren to his cabin,” Poe continued before I had a chance to choke out my gratitude. “And I’ll help get you to yours if you want. Let our brothers”—his eyes flickered momentarily in Jenny’s direction—“go on the introductory tour.”
“What about you?” Demetria asked.
“I’ve been here before. Patriarch, remember?”
Demetria’s expression said it all. Tough to remember when you’re always hanging around.
“Besides, I could use a change of clothes, too.” He pointed to his sorry attire.
It was amazing how quickly their attitude to Poe warmed once it became clear that he was offering to take responsibility for me. And how could I blame them? There was Spring Breaking to get on with. They hadn’t signed up to babysit a half-drowned brother who currently looked like a fully drowned rat. Within moments, the Diggirls had vamoosed, leaving me alone with Poe on the deck. I stood up at last.
“I just wanted to say—”
“That yours?” Poe interrupted, pointing to my yellow duffle. (It was the only one left on the deck.)
I nodded, noting as I did that Poe’s only luggage seemed to be the knapsack slung across his back. Well, he never had been much for fashion. Still, I remained concerned about what would happen with the clothes in that bag, as the T-shirt he wore was still so wet that it molded to his chest and shoulders. I looked away.
“You have another pair of shoes?” he said, taking in my bare feet. “The paths are all made of crushed shell. They’ll tear you up.”
I knelt and dug in the duffle until I found a pair of ballet flats. So much for showing off my pedicure.
Poe had my bag on his shoulder before I even stood up. We met Darren on the dock, where he was leaning against a pylon, head in hands.
“Feeling any better?” I asked him.
He nodded slightly, but didn’t look up. I wondered briefly if I should tell him that I didn’t blame him for my fall, but I clammed up once I caught Poe’s expression and the almost imperceptible shake of his head.
Of course. Poe would know. The last thing this teenager wanted from me was anything that carried a whiff of pity. He was already feeling guilty enough. I remembered the night Poe had ended up in the hospital after our crook. Nice to see he hadn’t matured much beyond his teens.
But neither was I capable of rolling out one of those guys’-guy faux-threatening comments in my current mental state. I couldn’t just laugh it off in any manner that would seem convincing. I think that ability was bundled with the Y chromosome.
And here we were always arguing for equality of the sexes.
So it was in silence that our little party trailed up the path and past the tour, where a man I supposed was Cavador’s caretaker was busy enlightening a knot of my brothers as to the geologic history of the island.
Maybe I was glad to skip this tour after all. My Spring Break–enthusiast Diggirls looked bored to death. As we passed, a few of my fellow knights twiddled their fingers in my direction, and George gave me a thumbs-up and raised his eyebrows. I smiled weakly in return and he looked relieved.
I’d give Cavador Key this: It may not be a luxury resort, but it sure was beautiful. The spring sunlight filtered through the leaves of shrub pines and palm trees, and the gray-white path snaked through thick palmetto ground cover toward a cluster of buildings. To my right, I saw a mangrove stand hugging the shoreline, and there were red and pink hibiscus flowers as big as my head on bushes all along the path.
We stopped by a low house hugging the path a little away from the main cluster of buildings. “Better stay here,” Poe whispered to me.
Must be the Gehrys’ house. He and Darren headed up the walk, but I don’t think the teen was interested in having the incident repeated to his parents, since he disappeared into the dark interior and shut the door in Poe’s face. Poe stood there for a moment, clearly torn between knocking or letting the whole issue slide. Personally, I’d vote the latter. I didn’t know if I wanted to know how Kurt Gehry would react to the news that Darren had almost killed me, accident or no.
He might be pleased.
After a moment, Poe returned to me. This of course is when I should have thanked him for saving my life. But for once, I, never at a loss for words, couldn’t think of anything to say that would get the job done. Eloquence deserted me. Even fluency seemed to be taking a coffee break. So instead I decided to have another coughing fit.
Poe paused on the path a few steps ahead of me and waited for me to finish.
The island was bigger than Clarissa and the others had led me to believe. At least, it seemed to take forever for us to get to the girls’ cabin. We trudged along in awkward silence, victim and savior, until finally we broke out of the scrub into a small clearing, and there it was, highly rundown, with dingy screens, a peeling green paint job, a sagging front porch, and a bright orange aluminum roof. I’d given up expecting luxury, and now merely hoped that the cabin would stand up to a rainstorm. (Doubtful.)
“There should be towels and sheets and stuff all set up for you,” Poe said, breaking the silence like a spell.
“Thank you,” I choked out. No. Not right. It sounded like I was thanking him for telling me about the linens. I reached out my arm. “No, really, P—Jamie. Thank you. How can I thank you? I could have died.”
He just looked at me, and then hefted the bag in his arms. “You’re welcome. Do you want me to take the bag in?”