Beauty Queens (32 page)

“Couldn’t do what?”

“Couldn’t stick with anything — jobs, people, cities. It was a flaw in his design. In the end, he couldn’t even stick with me.” Duff ducked under the water for a moment. He came back up only to chin level. “He took a job overseas, put me in boarding school. We talk now and then. ‘How are things?’ ‘Fine.’ ‘Good to hear, good to hear. Got a girl?’ ‘Got five.’ ‘There’s a good man.’ It’s like spending hours opening up a perfectly wrapped package only to find there’s no present inside. Nothing but empty space.”

The moon was in a mood. She shined her full light on the water, and it seemed to Adina that nothing had ever been so beautiful, so clear: the night-gray sand, the sound of her friends’ laughter coming from down the beach, the warm press of water against her naked body, and Duff, so near, so right. She liked him. She really, really liked him. He was gorgeous and funny with a sexy British accent and a killer smile and she didn’t care if it was like something out of a bad romance novel. How could she stop this undertow from pulling her out to sea? There had to be a flaw. A catch. There always was.

“Hey,” she said suddenly. “Do you like Feast for the Fishermen?”

Duff made a face. “The emo band? Sorry. Listening to them’s like being beaten with an eleven-year-old’s diary. I’d rather take out my own liver with a dull butter knife.”

And Adina knew she was in trouble.

Duff McAvoy’s lips were incredibly soft, and he smelled faintly of the earth and salt air.

“Is this okay?” he asked, nodding to indicate his room. The ship’s cabin was close and the bunk wasn’t the most comfortable, but it beat a pallet of palm fronds in the sand.

“Yeah.”

“Hold on.” He reached over her head and fiddled with something.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing. Alarm clock that goes off sometimes. Just turning it off.”

Adina could hear the waves as they gently rocked the boat. She had a brief recollection of a bumper sticker she’d seen once —
If this van is a-rockin’, don’t come a-knockin’
— and it made her giggle.

“What?” Duff asked.

“Nothing,” she said and circled his tongue with hers.

His hands were ship-calloused but warm against her breasts beneath her shirt.

“Adina,” he moaned. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you have an absolutely bangin’ bod.”

“No offense taken,” she whispered, and kissed him again. He pressed his body against hers. They’d been dry-humping for a while, and Adina felt nearly bruised by it, but she also didn’t want to stop.

“Shirt?” Duff whispered between kisses. His fingers waited on the threshold of her hem.

“Shirt,” Adina said.

He peeled it off and stopped to admire her bareness. Adina felt suddenly shy and sexy at the same time. Her body and mind were at war. It was almost reaching tilt status. If this was what surrender felt like, she kind of liked it.

Duff’s thumbs played at the waistband of her underpants. “Pants?”

“Pants,” Adina echoed and kissed his neck.

Duff started the process and Adina finished it by kicking them off with her feet. He slipped a hand between her legs, eliciting a gasp.

She’d never been so nervous, so unhinged with excitement. He moved his hand against her again, and she buried her face against his neck. She could feel the hardness of him against her leg. They pushed against each other in small, rhythmic gyrations that were driving her wild.

“God, Adina.” He gripped her shoulders. He rested his forehead on hers. His eyes were closed in some sort of agony-ecstasy. “I really want you. Can I?”

Goose bumps of yes danced down her arms. Adina hesitated. “Condom?”

Duff went still. “Damn.” He flopped onto his back to catch his breath. Then he turned to her again, tracing a pattern down her sternum with his finger. “I promise I’ll pull out in time.”

He’d felt so good pressed against her that she hadn’t wanted to stop. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe just this once? No. She’d
volunteered at Planned Parenthood one summer. She knew about birth control. She knew it only took once. God, what was happening to her brain?

“Sorry,” she said, pressing her palms against his chest. “Safety first. No glove, no love.”

He flopped onto his back again and went quiet. Adina felt a pang of worry that she should’ve said yes. She’d always been in control with guys. But Duff was no Matt Jacobs who hung on her every word.
That’s the kind of guy you can lose if you’re not careful,
her mother had said once about somebody else’s boyfriend, and Adina had growled in disgust and left the table. Yet that thought worked its way into her brain now. She could close a curtain on it, but the thought remained on the other side.

“Duff?” she asked. Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears. “Could you please talk to me?”

“Sorry,” he said, breathing deeply. He managed a small smile. “I think my balls are a shade of blue they could never put in a Crayola box. It would frighten the children with its hue of pain.”

Adina’s laugh was filled with relief. “Sure, I know that color. It’s in the box right next to Positive Pregnancy Test Pink.”

He stroked her hair and looked into her eyes. She felt her resolve weakening.

“You are killing me. You know that? I promise, extra promise, I’ll be careful,” he whispered.

“Uncool,” Adina said, and she felt tears burning at the corners of her eyes.

“Yeah. It was. I’m sorry,” he said. “Forgive me?”

“It’s just not cool to pressure somebody”.

“I know. You are one hundred percent right. I’m sorry.”

Adina wiped at her eyes. “I mean, it would be different if we had a condom.”

He kissed the top of her head. “What if I could
locate
a condom?”

She liked the way he said
locate,
all twee, like a schoolmaster. “We’re in business, mate,” Adina said.

Duff pulled on his pants and gestured at the front of them. “It’s like a compass finding true north.” Adina laughed out loud. Duff grinned. “Right. Off on a mission of grave condom importance.”

He started toward the cabin door, then doubled back for another kiss, then jogged backward, keeping her in his sights. “Do you know how hard it is to move quickly when your balls are approximately the size of cantaloupes?”

“Would you stop it?” Adina chided, giggling, and she wondered when she’d become so … girly. She’d never said ‘Would you stop it?’ like that, ever. It was such an ingenue thing to say, and Adina had never played that role. What was happening to her?

He was back. The condom package dangled from his fingers like a gift bag prize.

“Sinjin’s cabin.”

“Might’ve known,” Adina said.

Duff dropped trou and pulled the condom on, then positioned himself above Adina. “Now. Where were we?”

He looked into her eyes and Adina felt lost in them, and she had to admit that in this moment, she wanted to lose herself. Nothing else seemed to matter. She imagined the two of them living out their days in a tree house on the island or setting sail through the Caribbean. At night, she would sing ballads she’d written about him. He would read to her from books of poetry. And afterward, in the small cabin, they’d do this, this tangle of bodies, this blurring of the edges that kept people distant and lonely. Her love would heal his bruised heart. He’d want her only, would think of no other girl but her. They would make each other special. The idea was like a drug. This was what girls chased, this feeling. This was what was so hard to admit amidst all the theorizing — that the truth was murkier and deeper and had nothing to do with theory. Desire played by its own rules. She wanted him to want her. Madly. Truly. Completely. His wanting her supplied a missing piece she couldn’t supply for herself; no matter what the self-help books said, desirability was something reflected back to you. And right now, she needed that.

Duff’s little moans traveled up her spine, made her head buzz. And another thought grabbed hold:
She
was doing this.
She
had the power to do this. That she could be both completely vulnerable and totally in control was mind-blowing.

“Wait,” she gasped, pressing her hands against his chest.

“Are you okay? Am I hurting you?”

“No. I mean, yes, I’m okay, and no, you’re not hurting me.”

“What is it?” He kissed her.

She wanted him. She wanted this. It was her choice.

“Nothing,” she said and joined him fully.

Sosie had danced so much, her muscles ached. She welcomed the pain. The pain reminded her that she was a dancer, that she was someone named Sosie. Lately, she wasn’t so clear about who or what she was. It was as if she had become merged — Sosieandjennifer — and she missed being herself. Alone, she stretched out in the sand down the beach under the swishing leaves of a palm and stared at the sky. That moon was something else. It was a moon built for big dreams and romance.

She knew Jen was probably looking for her — who would want to waste a moon like that? But Sosie didn’t want to share this moon and this moment. She wanted it all to herself. And something in that desire made her realize how far she had drifted from that first flush of excitement with Jennifer. Her affections were waning, and she wasn’t sure she could get them back. The thought upset her. She didn’t want to think about that, and so, despite the throb in her legs, she got up to dance again under the bright full moon.

“That’s some moon,” Petra said.

“Stop talking about my ass, you beast.” Sinjin slipped his arms around Petra’s waist, and they laughed and talked while the stars kept watch.

Oblivious to the charms of the moonlight, Agent Jones stood outside the volcano compound, removed his gloves, and lit up his last cigarette of the night. Tane Ngata hadn’t told him anything. Tomorrow he’d have to make some decisions about the eco-warrior and those damned pirates before things got too out of hand. He exhaled, and in the stream of smoke, he thought he saw the thin ghost of his father. He stubbed out the cigarette.

Tomorrow.

His business finished, Harris slipped from the pirate ship. He congratulated himself for a job well done before vanishing into the light-mottled night.

From behind the shelter of a tree, Taylor cupped her hand into a familiar motion, waving to the moon as if it were an admiring crowd.

“Pretty, doncha think?” she said.

But the dead man at her feet didn’t say a word.

The next day was a fine, hot one. By noon, Adina had already been for a swim. She’d brought in a mess of fish and descaled them, rinsing them with freshwater and placing them in a barrel for smoking. While she worked, she sang.

“I don’t give a damn ’bout my bad reputation,”
she snarled in her best Joan Jett.

“Hey, Deen,” Mary Lou said, sidling up next to her. “You disappeared last night.”

“Yeah,” Adina said with a wicked smile.

“You
dog!
Details. Now.” Mary Lou whacked open a coconut and shared it with Adina while she listened to that tale of the previous night, of the exploits brought about by the mischievous moon. For a moment, Mary Lou was reminded of her adventures with Tane, and it made her sad, but she vowed to forget about it — and him.

“It was probably all a dream, anyway,” she said.

“What?”

“Nothing. Sorry.”

“We don’t say sorry ’round these parts, Nebraska,” Adina said in her best sheriff’s voice.

“Damn straight,” Mary Lou said in hers. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” Adina said. “I’m happy for me, too. Hey. I have to go to the ship and get some dry noodles. Come with?”

“Sure.”

They climbed onto the ship. From down below came the sound of hammering. The wood had been deemed good enough, and a
crew of pirates and beauty queens were about the business of hammering and applying pitch to make the vessel seaworthy again. Once they’d grabbed the food from the kitchen, Adina went to Duff’s cabin, but he wasn’t there, so she lounged on the bed, smelling his pillow. On a ledge behind that pillow was a small device.
Camera,
said Adina’s brain. She ignored it even as her heart tripled its beat:
cameracameracamera.
She pressed
REWIND
, then
PLAY
. It was a close-up of Duff, smirking at the camera.

“Hey-oh. Pirate Casanova here. So, we’ve been shipwrecked, and you will not believe this, but we’ve been rescued by honest-to-God beauty queens. They are unbelievably beautiful. But there is one girl who is a real challenge: Adina.” He laughed and scratched his head. “She hates me, mate. I mean, straight up,
hates
the Casanova. But I’m going to wear her down. It’s my mission. It’s like my old man says: ‘There’s nothing more exciting than a challenging woman.’ You’re watching Confessions of a Pirate Casanova. Peace out.”