Fluke

42: Pieces of Paradise

Carter smiled. "I'm glad you think it's funny."

And before I could respond, he picked me up over his shoulder.

"Grab her stuff. We're getting her on the boat," Carter said, and I realized that he played me like a fiddle.

"Carter, you can't be serious. I thought you were my friend in this battle, not a double agent." I squirmed, but he didn't loosen his grip. "Put me down, or I'm calling the Coast Guard."

"You can't do that, Reagan. They'll forcibly remove you from the island too."

We both shared names with US presidents, and this was the treatment I got? How rude.

As he carried me out the front door, I reached out behind me, but there was nothing to grasp besides the ocean air. "Please don't do this to me. I don't want to go."

"I don't either, but we have to," Carter replied.

A lump rose into my throat, and I shook my head. "No. You'll have to drag my dead body off this island."

"Or your living body."

"Where's Logan?"

"He'll be out soon with your stuff."

But I didn't want my stuff. All I wanted was him. He was the biggest piece of Paradise City that I could take with me.

The first tear snuck down my face, and I brushed it away before it could drip onto the rocks below. What had this island done to me?

It was true that everyone deserved to have something they could obsess over like a child, but I never meant for myself to cry like a baby over it.

I didn't fight as I climbed aboard the Millennium Osprey, and I sat on the deck, even though there were little puddles of water there that had yet to evaporate. I wanted to savor every last look at Paradise City. It was the only place that ever felt like a home to me.

Soon after, everyone else climbed aboard with all of our belongings and stashed those away in the safety and dryness of the cabin. It was incredibly rude of me not to help, but I couldn't. I couldn't take my eyes off of the only place that I ever belonged.

"Rea," Logan said as he stood right next to me.

I finally stood up, and the back of my pants had gotten all wet. I looked down into the water. He certainly picked a terrible girlfriend, didn't he? "Do you have ginger, or peppermint, or Dramamine, or anything for your seasickness?"

"Don't worry about that. I have Blue and Racecar."

I looked up, and sure enough, he held out the two flytraps to me.

"You should probably have them both," he said.

"What? Racecar is yours. I got it specifically for your birthday," I said.

"Yeah, but they're being taken from their home, and I don't want them to be separated from each other. That's a lot of stress on the poor little plants. I'll visit Racecar a lot, though."

"You have to. The poor guy will get separation anxiety."

He smiled, despite the fact that we were on a boat. "And we can't let that happen."

Toby climbed aboard, and I waved to him.

"Hey, Reagan. You submitted your project online, right?" he asked me.

I nodded.

"Logan?"

"Yeah," Logan replied.

"Good, good. Those need to be turned in by nine this morning, or you're going to have big problems." Toby checked his watch. "Good thing you have that handled. It's five 'til nine now." He smiled, then continued into the cabin of the boat.