Lie to Me (an OddRocket title) (6 page)

The summer before, a girl from the mainland had capsized in the dark trying to reach Jekyll by midnight. She tried to swim back to the shores of San Sebastian, but she never made it. The tide carried her body out deep into the Sound and a local fisherman pulled her from the water a few weeks later. She didn't go to the high school, but rumors spread about the body, the color of her skin. They'd identified her by her teeth. I shivered. It seemed wrong to be thinking about a girl drowning in these waters on such a perfect sailing day. As we got closer to reaching Jekyll, I could feel the wind slipping away and, suddenly, it died.

"Aw, come on, come on, come on," RD said, talking to the mainsail as it flapped back and forth. "Seriously?" He fell back on his seat, defeated. He took the jib sheet from me and cleated it. "May as well sit back and wait. The wind is in charge."

The water settled to a flat, glassy texture. Small puffs rippled toward us, but the gusty white caps of the hour before seemed impossible. My hands throbbed. I turned my palms over to see the damage. Blisters lurked on the pads just below my fingers. Pink rope burns streaked across my palms.

"You need sailing gloves," RD said, nodding toward my hands. "I have an old pair I can give you. Remind me next time, kid."

"Sure," I said, my heart filling unevenly. RD confused me. One minute he called me “beautiful girl,” the next, “kid.” But he'd said “next time.” I felt this incredible thrill run through my body as if I had passed some sort of test.

"You did great in that heavy wind,” he said. "You’re a serious natural out here." With no wind, we drifted around Jekyll Island like a slow tour boat, well out of range of the rocky ridge that protected the shore.

"Well," I said. "My dad used to sail a lot, but I haven't sailed since I was really young. I was a little nervous."

"So, you haven't sailed." He raised an eyebrow. He'd caught my little white lie.

"Not really," I smiled. "Not in a wind like that."

"It's cool. You were awesome." He stretched his legs out and closed his eyes as he inhaled. "Man, it has been way too long since I've had that much fun on the water."

"I thought you sailed all the time?"

"Well…" RD cringed as if he were considering something. "I used to. Things got a little complicated back in Seattle. And when life gets complicated, you end up giving up a lot of the good stuff. So for me, it's been a little difficult to get time on the water. But this summer, I am going to make time. No one is stopping me." I wondered whom he was talking about. There was finality in his tone, as if he'd drawn a line for himself somewhere and he wasn't going to step back across it.

I understood that feeling. "Yeah, and I'm not going to waste any time thinking about lying ex-boyfriends or disloyal friends."

"That is something we should toast." RD grinned and reached for a cooler. "Me, with the hair of the dog that bit me, and you, with a sparkling water." He laughed. "See, I am not a corruptor."

"Thanks," I said, taking the bubble water. The cold container felt good against my throbbing hands.

"So you've grown up on the island, right?"

I nodded.

"We've got some time to kill out here," he yawned. "Any good stories? I heard this drunk guy at the bar last night talking about a ghost."

I rolled my eyes. "You were talking to Otis. He’s a regular and he always gets drunk and talks about how his luck would be different if he'd made it around Jekyll. There's this old legend about the island and Otis is a believer."

"Oh, island ghost stories." RD clapped his hands and leaned forward as if I had a juicy secret. "Tell me about it."

"Well, see those rocks out there?" We weren't that close to the island. We stayed far away from the white caps that sliced through the flat water. Just a flicker of foam was enough to show you where the rocks lived. "So there are lots of old boats out here. They used to sink all the time. Supposedly, it was a pretty dangerous passage before people had charts and GPS."

"And tell me, Cassandra the psychic, where there are sunken ships, are there ghosts?" RD laughed ghoulishly.

"Why, yes," I said, playing along and using a melodramatic voice. "So, the legend is, if you sail around Jekyll before midnight, you have to start after sunset and you have to be alone. If you make it solo and manage to avoid all the rocks, the ghosts that haunt the waters will grant you a wish."

"All the ghosts, even the old deck boys and cooks? Or is there one magic ghost like Jekyll with all the power?"

"Supposedly, Jekyll the pirate is the one with the mojo. It’s stupid."

"We should do it," RD said, standing up and rocking the boat. "I want to go around Jekyll. I want my wish!"

"Well, today can't count."

"What?" He sat back. "You think the ghosts will deny me. I get it. No big."

"Nope." I pointed to the sky. "Daylight. It's no good. And you gotta be alone."

"Stupid ghost rules.” He leaned back and closed his eyes. "'Cause you know what? If I could get a wish, I would use it and I'd use it today."

"Me, too," I said, likewise closing my eyes in the sun. I'd forgotten sunscreen; the sun felt so good on my skin. I didn't care that I would have new freckles. What did it matter? I used to obsess about how I looked for Nick, maybe because he always made me think I didn't look good enough for him. Hanging out with RD, I hadn't worried once about being pretty, not that he cared about that stuff. It just felt good to hang out with someone who wasn't constantly looking over my shoulder and staring at my best friend.

"So, what would you wish?" RD said. "A billion dollars? A magic plane ticket that would take you anywhere in the world whenever you wanted?"

"Oh, that is good," I said. Behind him a salmon jumped high out of the water. "I think I would wish for a do-over."

"A what?"

"A do-over," I said. "I'd skip having a crush on Nick for basically my whole life and worry about spending more time on the water and making more friends, mainly the non-lying kind."

"Still stings, huh?" RD cringed and took a sip of his beer. "I'm sorry, kid."

Kid
. Now that stung a little, too, but I smiled and took a sip of my bubble water. It was okay. RD still talked to me like a grown-up and I liked that. "How about you?" I asked.

"Well," he sighed. "What wouldn't I do over? You know, I like that. I would like a do-over that goes back to my freshman year in college. You may not realize this, but I am a little old to be a senior. There were events, early in my career, that derailed me a bit."

"Events."

"Let’s just call the event, a girl."

"Oh," I said, swallowing. A girl. So RD had a girl. Thinking about him with someone made my stomach tighten up a bit. "Was she your girlfriend?"

"Yes. Yes, she was. When I first met her, she was pretty, smart, funny."

"Oh," I said, trying to paint a picture of RD's perfect girl in my mind.

He laughed. "But we made some mistakes. It got messy and, you know, if I could, I would go back in time and make different choices, but whatever." He finished his beer and stowed it in the trash before standing. "You're a sweet girl. It was really nice of you to sail with me, but I do not want your Mom flipping out about you being out here, so we should probably hit the motor."

"She wouldn't flip out." I lied, trying to act nonchalant.

"She lets you go sailing with guys in the harbor?"

"No," I said. "But I'll tell her about you. She'll be cool."

"Actually," RD said, "how about you don't. She might not like it and, honestly, I don't need trouble.”

I didn't really get what kind of trouble he meant. We'd gone sailing, no big deal, but if he didn't want me to tell, I wouldn't. “Okay.” I shrugged.

"Cool," he said, smiling at me. He leaned forward. I could see little flecks of brown in his blue eyes. He had pushed his sunglasses back on his head and unzipped his sweatshirt. I could see the top of the letters in “Washington” on his gray t-shirt. "It will take us about an hour to motor back anyway. Hopefully, I can still order from the breakfast menu."

"An hour?" I sat straight, my pulse rocketing. It had taken us about an hour to sail out to the island. The wind had propelled us across the water. We’d been drifting for even longer. "I'm supposed to pick up my sister, Addie, at five o’clock."

RD cringed. "It's close to four now," he said, looking at his watch.

"We should motor back."

"I'm on it." He started the engine. "I'm really sorry. I had no idea the wind would die."

"It's okay," I said, my heart hammering.

We were on the other side of Jekyll and the motor wasn't that powerful. It felt like slow motion as we puttered along. It took longer than an hour. When the clock hit five, I checked my cell phone, expecting a call from my mother any minute. I'd have to answer, since ignoring a phone call from my mother was a major offense. Mom told me that if I didn't take her calls, she'd have to assume that I was either dead, injured or doing something I wasn't supposed to be doing.

We reached the dock at five-twenty. By some miracle, Mom didn't call and neither did Addie. I jumped off the boat as soon as we docked. RD told me he could tie down the boat without my help.

"I've been sailing this boat alone for so long, I wouldn't even know what to do with your help. I'll come see you later tonight at the restaurant. Go on." He pretended to shoo me off the boat. "Later, beautiful."

I tried not to trip. "Okay." I ran up the dock as fast as I could, and grabbed my bike. It was only the beginning, but I already did exactly what RD said.

Addie sat on the front steps of the Boys and Girls Club, her lips set in a thin line. Her lemon-lime jacket was folded up beside her feet. The parking lot was empty. I rode up on my bike, but Addie didn't move. She wasn't going to make this easy.

"Addie. I'm so sorry," I said, leaning my bike against a rail. "I got distracted.”

"You forgot me," she said, not moving. Her blue eyes gleamed. "Mom said you were supposed to pick me up at five o’clock. It's almost six. I was going to call her."

"I know. I know," I pounded my hands on my bike seat like it was a drum. "Come on, come on. I'm sorry. You can sit on the handlebars."

“Mom says that’s dangerous.”

“Mom should have left me a car.”

“Fine,” she sighed and picked up her bag, handing it to me so I could strap it to the rack on the back. I steadied the bike while she climbed onto the handlebars.

I started toward the road. Pedaling with Addie felt like I was pushing the bike through drying cement, but not being in trouble was worth it.

"Bunker Blue's mom was late, too. He talked to me for a whole ten minutes. It was horrible." Addie glanced back at me. "And Priya drove by the Boys and Girls Club. She saw me sitting all by myself and offered to drive me home."

"Cool," I said, my whole body tensing at the mention of her name.

"I think she feels bad."

"I'm sure she does."

"Do you hate her now?"

"No. I don't know.”

"Did she steal Nick?"

"Addie, can we just talk about something else? Anything, please?" There was one sloping hill between my bicycle and rest. I really wished my sister would stop talking and let me focus on my burning legs.

"Sorry."

I didn’t want to think about Priya and Nick. I wanted to think about RD and that feeling of flying across the water. Mom would be furious if she knew, but I didn't care. All these years, I'd wondered what it would feel like to sail like Dad, to feel the wind rushing over my body. Today, I finally understood. Dad probably felt alive on the water, too. I didn't want to give that up.

We made it to the gravel parking lot of the Hideaway. "I'm going to be a photographer this summer," Addie said, jumping off the bike. My legs felt like jello when I stood. "It's probably going to change my life. Mom gave me Dad's old camera. And I'm going to start by taking pictures of the island. You know, photo essay type stuff. Maybe I could hang out with you and take pictures instead of going to baby camp."

"Mom pays for you to go to baby camp," I said, locking my bike to the chain link fence. "Besides, the dock is boring."

"Nothing is as boring as baby camp," she said. "Nobody believes me. I bet whatever you did today was better than baby camp."

"I sat home and watched TV and tried not to feel sorry for myself."

"You did nothing?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing with who?"

"Nothing by myself," I said, then remembered that my sister actually had something on me. "I'll take you down on the docks later this week. We can take pictures. Let’s just not tell Mom I was late today, okay?"

Once inside the restaurant, Addie set up camp in the booth everyone hated by the kitchen door. She emptied her backpack across the whole table like it was her home office: A photography book, a camera and a copy of National Geographic. I couldn't believe Mom had given her Dad's old camera. Usually she didn’t like us touching his stuff. A body snatcher had stolen my Mother. She looked the same, more or less, but she seemed to fold like a house of cards at my sister's every whim. Addie paged through the National Geographic and took notes, sometimes pausing to put the ballpoint pen in the corner of her mouth like an anthropologist.

Mom was still on the mainland. Nick wasn't working. I kept my phone turned off so I wouldn't have to read any more of Priya's texts. They just made me angry and a little sick. The only thing that made me feel good was thinking of RD laughing on the boat. The way he'd stood up and hollered at the wind as if he didn't care who heard him. I'd never seen anyone be so un-self-conscious. I'd certainly never felt that way.

Mariah had me sweeping the floors, a thankless job, but one that is easy to do without thinking. The restaurant was slow, which meant Mariah doled out all the horrid clean up jobs. I swept, cleaned and re-filled the ketchup bottles leaving nothing but the worst job in the world, scrubbing down menus. The kid's menus are beyond gross, so I decided to wipe them down first.

I kept having these daydreams about talking to Nick. He'd come into the restaurant, see me standing at the counter, my hair windswept from sailing, my cheeks pink from the sun. He'd be overcome with regret, beg me to take him back or, better yet, tell me what a mistake he'd made.