Reckless Girls(11)
Nico just shrugs, affable as ever. “Fine by me, then.”
I know that Nico didn’t mean anything by it, and I don’t want to spoil the day, so I drop it, taking the other bag to Hal’s office. Within an hour, we’re pulling out of the harbor, leaving the tall forest of masts behind us, motoring past yachts a hell of a lot bigger and fancier than the Susannah. Brittany and Amma stand at the bow, their arms loosely around each other’s waist, wind blowing their hair. If my phone weren’t belowdecks, I’d be tempted to take a picture of them, put a pretty filter on it, and give it a sappy caption. That’s exactly what they look like right now—an aspirational social media post.
As the boat slides out into the open water, my stomach dips. For the first time, it’s really sinking in that we’re doing this: we’re heading out for a literal deserted island with these two strangers, and I don’t know if what I’m feeling is excitement, fear, relief, or some giddy combination of all three. I just know that as the Susannah glides across the glassy water, something in my chest finally seems to loosen.
“It beeeegiiiiins,” Brittany sings out, lifting her arms and spreading them wide as she tips her head back.
“Fuck yeah!” Nico hoots back, and Amma looks over her shoulder at both of us, smiling.
It begins, I echo in my head.
And I don’t just mean this one trip.
SIX
I knew the Susannah was small, but I’d never really felt just how small until that first night, when all four of us were down below.
The main cabin is both kitchen and sitting room, with a sink, fridge, and a small stove on one side, and a cushioned bench that wraps around a table on the other. That table is also our bed tonight. It folds down to be level with the bench, then we can slide the back cushions over it, turning it into a serviceable if not very luxurious sleeping space.
There’s also a small cabin at the stern containing a V-berth. It’s exactly what it sounds like, a mattress in the shape of a V, curving into the lines of the boat. Brittany and Amma will sleep there, and honestly, I’m glad we’re getting the table-bed. The cabin is tiny with a low ceiling, and even though there’s a hatch and Nico has installed a little fan on the wall, it still gets pretty stuffy.
Other than that, there’s just a tiny bathroom—the head, as Nico keeps reminding me—at the other end of the boat, some storage cabinets, and that’s it.
In addition to “decorating” with my books and photos, I’d made a curtain for the window in the little cabin, and bought a cheerful pineapple rug for the kitchen. Still, there’s no escaping the fact that it’s cramped.
Brittany and Amma don’t seem to mind, though. As we eat our dinner—the first of dozens of meals of rice and beans ahead of us—they say over and over again how cute everything is, with Brittany taking photos of the space from every angle.
“How long have you had this boat?” she asks now, taking a sip of bottled water.
Nico is sitting across from her, next to me, and puts his elbows on the table as he looks around. “Bought her a couple of years ago. Been fixing her up ever since.”
“Why the Susannah?” Amma asks. She only ate about half of her dinner before pushing it away.
Nico shrugs. “The boat had a stupid name when I bought it. Zephyr Breeze. And, like, a zephyr is a breeze, so what the fuck? Anyway, I was dating this girl named Susannah, so…”
I already know this story, but every time I hear it, my chest tightens uncomfortably. It’s something about the way he just waves her off despite naming a whole fucking boat after her. And it makes me wonder if someday, some other girl will look at that L on Nico’s arm, and he’ll give that same shrug and say, “It was for this girl I was dating, Lux, it wasn’t a big thing,” and that’ll be it.
“I thought it was bad luck to rename a boat,” Amma says. She leans back in the booth, pulling one foot up onto the cushion and wrapping her arms around her knee. “Might be tempting fate.”
She’s smiling a little, teasing, but I’d never heard that before, and I glance over at Nico.
“Some people say that,” he replies with a nod. “But I don’t know. Never been much for that superstitious shit.”
He smiles suddenly, bumping me with his shoulder. “Anyway, the person you should be asking is Lux. The Susannah is her boat, after all.”
I roll my eyes even as Brittany sits forward. “Wait, seriously?”
“No,” I say. “Well, technically. On paper.”
A couple of months ago, I came home to find Nico had a bunch of paperwork for me to sign, transferring the boat into my name. Apparently Nico’s dad had called, and they’d had some big talk about taxes or something. Honestly, I didn’t really understand much of it, and Nico kept insisting it wasn’t a big deal, that it would make things “easier” on us financially if the boat were in my name. So that’s how I technically became the legal owner of the Susannah.
Not that it meant much—it was still very much Nico’s boat.
Leaning forward, Brittany props her chin in her hand. “Okay, so now we know about the boat, but what I really want to know about is you two.” She gestures between us. “Tell me everything. How you met, was it love at first sight, all the really personal, dreamy shit.”