Beauty Queens (29 page)

“It’s pretty amazing what you’ve done here.”

“What, did you think we’d lie down and die?” She waded into the water, untwisting the lines as she went.

“Um, that was a compliment.”

“Crap,” Adina said.

“It was a crap compliment?”

She cupped a hand over her eyes and looked out at the water. “No, I mean, crap, the line’s stuck on something out there. It took forever to get these working. This one’s probably going to break from the strain and we’ll have to start all over again.”

“Let me help you with that.”

“I don’t need your help,” Adina called, but Duff was already wading into the water. This was the problem with men. They just
assumed. They just
took action.
It was infuriating. And reductive. And slightly thrilling.

The wet clung to Duff’s pants as he strode into the surf, and she could see the curve of his ass. Man, he was fine.

“Stop it, Greenberg,” Adina said. She walked back to shore and busied herself with rearranging the
HELP
stones.

Duff took a deep breath and dove under. He was under for a count of ten, and Adina found herself worrying. Another few seconds went by and he popped up. “Got it! Give it a try!”

Adina tugged on the line and it moved easily. Duff trudged back through the waves. His body glistened in the sun. Why was her heart speeding up? It was an autonomic betrayal.
Stop it,
she told her senses.
Stop being so dumb.

“All better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“No problem.” He shook off the excess water like a big dog and sat down in the sand. “It’s brilliant here. Peaceful.”

“I’d trade it in a heartbeat for a night at a hotel with room service.”

“Understandable. But it is kind of romantic. Like the island version of Waiden Pond.”

“You’ve read Thoreau?” Adina managed.

“Surprised?” He gave her that smile, which was both sweet and a little dangerous. “I’ve been watching you. You’re not like the other girls, are you?”

Adina made a show of looking down at her body. “Really?”

“Oh. I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that you don’t seem like the typical beauty queen type.”

“Gee. Thanks.”

“No! I didn’t mean … wow. I’m really striking out here.” He took a deep breath. “What I meant was that you don’t seem like someone who would go out for a Miss Teen Dream Pageant. You seem like someone who’d be, I don’t know, playing in a band, hauling your equipment to gigs.”

“I … I do play in a band,” Adina said, unable to keep her cool. “I’m the bass player.”

“Bass players are brilliant! John Paul Jones, Flea, John Entwistle, Tina Weymouth …”

“Seriously? You just named all my favorites in one breath.”

“I have more breath. I could try to say more things to make you like me.”

His eyes were very green. Adina got up to check the fishing lines even though she’d just checked them not five minutes before.

“So, rock-star pirate,” she said, with a bit of sneer. “What instrument do you play on the show?”

“Well, I don’t like to brag, but I am a virtuoso at the spoons.”

“Really.”

“Yes. My musical cutlery skills have landed me in the top concert halls of Europe. The Queen yelling out, ‘Spoon solo!’” Duff played a mock spoon solo against his thigh, then made crowd sounds. “Of course, there was that tragic spork incident at the Hollywood Bowl. We don’t talk about that.”

“You don’t play anything, do you?”

“Not a thing. I am completely and utterly useless.”

Adina could feel herself starting to warm to Duff. “So, what, they just hired you for your good looks?”

“You think I’m good-looking?”

He gave her a shy smile, and Adina’s cheeks pinkened.

“That’s usually a requirement for being on TV,” she said, dodging the question.

“Well. Maybe when we get back, you can teach me to play the bass.”

“If we can fix your ship, we can get out of here. Oh my God. Do you know what I would do for a burger and a bed?”

“Hey — you fancy a trip to the ship?” Duff laughed when Adina raised an eyebrow. “No. Nothing like that. There’s food on board. It’s mostly pretty naff — soy protein bars and freeze-dried
noodles and whatnot. But it’s a change from coconut and fish for you.”

“It’s not a burger, but I’ll take it.”

When the morning fog burned off and the sun was high, the beauty queens and the accidental pirates trudged through the waters to the beached ship to assess the damage. She had taken on quite a bit of water and listed to one side. A big, jagged hole snaked along the starboard side near the bow.

“We’re going to have to drag her ashore if we have a hope of fixing her,” Ahmed said.

“How do we do that?” Nicole cast a glance upward at the tall sails.

“If we cut down the rigging and use the ropes to pull her, I think we can do it.”

“Worth a try,” Nicole agreed.

Mary Lou could barely contain her excitement. A real pirate ship! Once on board, she stepped behind the large wooden wheel and pretended she was Josephine on a run through the islands, escaping from the British navy. “Ahoy, me hearties,” she growled to herself. She wished she could tell Tane about this, and that thought gave her pause. Where was he? What had happened? Maybe he wasn’t any better than Jacques-Paul or Billy. Or maybe the girls were right and he was some strange fever dream brought on by the island, a prince mirage.

“ML!” Shanti waved from the crow’s nest. “How bitchin’ is this?”

“Awesome!” Mary Lou called back. She wouldn’t think about Tane. She was a pirate queen, and pirate queens had more important things to do.

Alongside the pirates, the girls climbed up the rigging and cut down ropes, dropping them to the deck. Down in the water, Petra and Sosie helped secure the ropes to the sides of the ship for the eventual haul.

Jen and Chu went belowdecks to examine the hole.

“Do you think she’ll sail again?” Jennifer asked Chu, who wore a Pharma
⁴¹
T-shirt.

Chu put his entire head through one section. “Don’t know. They didn’t teach us anything about shipwrecks in pirate camp. Mostly, they wanted us to work out and get cool haircuts.”

Jen chewed at her bottom lip. “Got any tools on this ship?”

“Besides the captain?” The pirate’s smile was sheepish. “Dunno. Not really tool savvy. But I can do one hundred crunches in two minutes. Check my abs.” He raised his shirt.

“Little clue: wasted on me.”

“What?”

“I’m into girls.”

“Oh. Oh!” Chu said. “Right. Got it. That’s cool. I’ve got a cousin who’s gay. Amy Liu. Know her?”

Jennifer laughed. “Oh, sure. I’ll just look her up in the Big Book of Lesbians. We get a copy of that with the purchase of our first flannel shirt.”

“Really?”

Jennifer stared. “No. That was a joke. Come on, dude. Let’s find those tools.”

The rest of the girls went from cabin to cabin, taking stock of the situation as if they were preparing for a pageant, evaluating the good and the bad. The computers had taken on water and were nonoperational. (Bad.) The guys had, in fact, smashed the radio. (Bad and stupid.) Much of the food had spoiled or gone overboard in the storm. (Bad.) However, the cannons were fully functional. (Good, they supposed. Or at least not bad.) The sails, while torn, had mostly
survived and were definitely mendable. (Good.) And there were packages of Top Ramen, tins of sardines, crackers, protein bars, oranges, and chocolate. (Okay, good, good, very good, good, and totally awesome.)

“We can fix this if we really work hard,” Shanti said, and the girls felt a renewed sense of hope that they might at last get off the island.

“All right, everyone!” Sinjin called. “Time for the old heave-ho!”

“It’s like the biggest tug-of-war contest ever,” Tiara said as they formed two lines on either side of the ship, dug their feet into the sand, and took up the ropes.

“One, two, three!” Sinjin called. They grunted and groaned, pulled and yanked. It took hours, but finally they dragged the wounded boat ashore.

For the better part of several days, everyone worked together. Using two of the girls’ rescued suitcases, they bailed as much water as they could and then scraped the hull of barnacles. Petra and George, whose mother was a seamstress, mended sails. Using the machete, Nicole, Ahmed, and Sosie took turns cutting a tree into lumber. Jennifer had found a tool kit with a hammer and a collection of mismatched nails and was ready to go.

“The wood’s not dry enough yet,” Adina said. “Trust me. I’m from New Hampshire. You’ve got to let that season a bit or it’ll be useless. It’ll just splinter right up on you.”

“How long?” Duff asked.

“Not sure. In this sun, maybe a few days. Maybe a few weeks.”

The girls’ shoulders sagged. There were groans.

“Now, Miss Teen Dreamers,” Petra reprimanded in her best Taylor twang. “I cannot believe y’all are grumblin’. I once went an entire year without any wood at all.”

Nicole sputtered. Adina fell in the sand laughing.

“What?” George asked.

“Nothing,” Petra said and put the lumber out in the sun to dry.

As if summoned, Taylor walked past, a finger pressed to her lips like a preschool teacher motioning for quiet. Her hair was a symphony of snarls and she wore what appeared to be a man’s oversize black shirt.

“Is that the girl you told us about? The one who went mad?” George asked.

“Yeah,” Petra said sadly.

“Where’d she get that shirt?” Ahmed asked. He sounded worried.

“Don’t know. Taylor, where’d you get the shirt?” Adina asked.

Taylor didn’t answer the question. “I just need a few things. A lady has to be prepared,” she said before disappearing into Tiara’s hut and coming out with a strange collection of beauty products. Then she crouched low like a soldier and broke for the jungle.

A loud shriek came from somewhere on the ship, breaking the spell Taylor’s appearance had cast. The girls and pirates raced on board to find Miss Ohio racing out of Captain Sinjin’s cabin. He stood behind her with his hands up.

“I swear I didn’t touch her.” His brow furrowed. “Blimey, maybe that’s why she’s upset. Sorry, luv. D’you want me to ravish you in proper teen-pirate rock-star fashion? A little lovin’ followed by a sensitive emo ballad in which I tell you why I can’t be your boyfriend? I know you fancy that Fabio Testosterone bloke. Fair enough. Not bad-looking. Mind, he’s not a pirate. But you can’t have everything.”

“Are you okay?” Shanti asked. She gave Sinjin a dirty look and he blew her a kiss.

“Totally fine!”

“Why did you scream?”

“Look what I found!” Miss Ohio pushed past Sinjin and came back brandishing a bottle of expensive rum. “There’s two whole cases in here!”

Adina took a small sip and coughed till Mary Lou had to hit her on the back. “Whoa. Lethal,” she choked out.

Sinjin sagged against the doorframe. “That’s me bloody private stock.”

“Not anymore, Cap’n,” Petra said, swiping a bottle. “This here’s a rum mutiny.”

Sinjin smiled slowly as he looked Petra up and down. He stepped closer. “And, um, what if I tried to reestablish my command?”

“That depends. Are you a black belt?”

“No.” Sinjin played with the tassels on Petra’s scarf.

“Because I am.”

“Right.” Sinjin wagged a playful finger as he took a solid step back. “You I like. Give us a kiss, luv.”

Petra stopped him with a hand. “Does that work?”

“Does what work?”

“That bullshit charm, luv,” Petra mimicked perfectly.

Sinjin considered it. “Like a charm.”

“Not for me.”

“Is that a challenge?” Sinjin smirked.

“No. Statement of fact.”

“No likee the charm?”

“Lovee the charm — as long as there’s some real behind it.
Gotta keep it real, girl, to keep wit me”
Petra sang.

“Real like nature, real like a tree.
…” Sinjin twirled and shot his arms upward like branches in perfect imitation of the “Keep It Real, Girl” video.

Petra’s mouth opened in astonishment. “You know that song?”

“By heart! Boyz Will B Boyz? Fantastic!”

“Oh. My. God. But you’re not a nine-year-old girl.”

“I’m offended. Way to put me in a box. I loved Boyz Will B Boyz. Copied all their moves in m’ bedroom. Made m’ mum buy me one of those godawful outfits with the skinny black leggings and the oversize jackets —”

“Bandanna?”

“Cor blimey! Not complete without the bandanna, was it? And the hair.” Sinjin pantomimed a long fall of bangs over one eye. “That hair said ‘Shag me, I’m too depressed to own a comb.’”

Petra laughed. “There wasn’t any shagging. We were eleven.”

“What?”

“Nothing. So, Boyz Will B Boyz fan,” Petra recovered quickly, “did you spend fifth grade getting pummeled?”

“Me? Sinjin St. Sinjin?” The captain waved off the suggestion. “Oh, shit yeah. But I stuck to me musical guns. Complete with dance moves. By the way, I hope you note that I am man enough to tell you this. Question is,” he purred, “are you woman enough to take it?”

Petra’s grin faded. She liked Sinjin, liked his silly humor and the way he didn’t take himself too seriously. She wondered what would happen when he knew the truth. Would he be able to see past what was and see what could be?

“There’s something I think I should tell you right up front… .”

Loud shouts reverberated in the cabin. George ran down the hall. He looked terrified.

“Cap’n! Cap’n!” he said, out of breath. “It’s Charlie.”

“What’s happened?” Sinjin said, all business.

“We were out in the waves, looking for fish, and he got stung. Jellyfish.”

Down the beach, Charlie lay sprawled in the pulsing tide, holding on to his right leg. His calf had begun to swell. “Jellyfish,” he said through chattering teeth. “Feels like my leg is on fire.”

Nicole pushed her way to his side. “It’s okay. I’m a doctor,” she said, peeling his fingers away to have a look. “We have to stop the poisons from getting into the bloodstream.”

“Hold on, Charlie. I’ll wash it off.” George cupped his hands under the tide.

“No!” Nicole shouted. “I read this in one of my auntie’s journals. You can actually activate the poisons that way.”