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WHICH IS TO SAY that Briar's yet again standing on the HMS Pogue, watching Kiara and her friends make terrible decisions and saying nothing against it because at least something interesting's happening, even if they barely have enough air in the oxygen tank and someone might end up dead by dinnertime.
The top half of her sundress is peeled off, bunched up around her waist in a makeshift skirt as she lays up on the back of the skiff, sun-tanning. Briar readjusts her heart-shaped sunglasses, glaring out into the marsh where the heatwaves warp the rippling air and the baking sun turns the glittering water into an oasis of gold. Meanwhile, the others are standing around a pile of scuba diving gear, discussing strategy on how to get to the Grady White directly below them. Briar doesn't participate, mainly because there's hardly a plan, considering only one of them can go under with the quarter-full tank.
"Does anyone know how to dive?" Kiara asks, posing the million-dollar question, her tone rough with annoyance. The silence that befalls them is equal parts dismaying and awkward. JJ glances down at his shoes, John B shakes his head, and Pope shuts his eyes. Kiara sighs. "Anybody? B—didn't you go diving in Bali last summer?"
Briar pins her with a meaningful stare. The entire drive to Pope's they didn't speak. JJ had driven, Briar swiftly claiming the passenger seat, feet up on the dashboard, and Kiara relegated to the back. They let JJ fill the silence with his inane rambling, and Briar stole surreptitious glances at Kiara through the rearview mirror, her sunglasses hardly concealing the challenging glint in her eye.
Admit it, a voice in her head screams. Why won't you admit it?!
As the Twinkie shuddered over the road, Kiara outright ignored her, and has been ignoring her up until now. And this was when Briar knew nothing would change. For some unbearable reason, Kiara refused to acknowledge what had nearly transpired last night, and for some reason, Briar would always replay that moment in her head until it was burned into the back of her eyelids, the heat of the moment consuming her the way a fire devours a house.
A second, smaller and crumpled voice fluttered out of the Pandora's box Briar locked all of her emotions in, flitting across the ravine of her mind, landing upon a memory Briar tried her best to bury, a memory that Kiara killed.
Why won't you remember?
If JJ or the boys sensed anything thus far, they didn't comment. And perhaps it's better this way.
"Snorkelling," Briar corrects her, pointedly. "And considering that apparatus belongs to the Camerons, I'm not touching it with a ten foot pole. You can totally get herpes from sharing a mouthpiece."
Pope winces. "Oh, that's not..."
"That's incredibly helpful, Thorny, thank you," John B drawls, fixing her with a flat look, to which Briar taps two fingers to her temple in a mock salute.
