Jamie sometimes talked about a rocky cove on this side of the island. While she was over here, she would go see it. She lived on the flat side of the island, all sandy beach with no rocks marring the beach's long expanse. If nothing else, she had her book with her and could read for a little before going home.
On her way to the beach, she thought about Muriel and Kara. She missed them. A lot.
She didn't have many friends. Just Kara. The three boys in her class were too interested in doing things for them to be real friends. Muriel almost felt like a grandmother, although she would never say that to Muriel, since she wasn't old enough. It was the general feeling she got from being around her every day, like she was there for more reasons than to teach her dancing. She wasn't sure why she felt that way—Muriel didn't treat her much differently than Kara. Maybe she was lonely, and Muriel was another warm, friendly face in the sea of cold and haughty faces on the island.
There was a worn path to the beach at the end of the road. She pulled her moped off onto the sandy curve and headed down the path. The sound of the waves crashing against rocks made it through the thick trees obscuring the ocean from her view.
The path through the woods led out onto a ledge, and she found the trail down to the beach. The cliff was high up, and a group of people was further down the beach to the right. It was fairly large, twenty to thirty people—all teenagers. Several girls lay out in tiny bikinis, obviously enjoying the sun and attention from the boys playing some game with a ball. She didn't recognize any of them, so it was the kids who went to the other school.
Should she leave? She looked around. The beach curved sharply to the left there, and a small stream flowed into the ocean. There was no one over there. She put her chin up. She wouldn't let them scare her off. They wouldn't even notice her if she walked the other way. Once she crossed the stream, no one would see her.
Julie headed down the rocky path and went to the left as she reached the bottom. If anyone in the group of kids saw her, they ignored her. Which was fine by her, if they were all like that boy she met in the coffeehouse with Jamie.
She kicked at small rocks along the beach as she went, occasionally looking over into the water, as the wind whipped around her. She was nearer the stream now. In a little while she would go around the corner and be out of view of the other kids.
A flash of red caught her eye in the water, but a moment later it was gone as a wave swept over. She looked down to kick at another rock. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the red again.
She stopped, using her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. The red flashed again in the bright blue waves, and she walked toward it. Whatever it was seemed to be bobbing along on the waves.
It was fabric—part of a bathing suit.
Julie cried out, waving her arms at the other end of the beach. The kids down there either couldn't hear her over the wind or ignored her. She dropped her bag in the sand, kicked off her shoes, and raced into the water fully clothed.
She dove in as soon as the water was at her knees, aiming for the bobbing red suit. The cold hit her hard, which was why no one was swimming in it. The red fabric bobbed about ten feet ahead of her, and she could see short black hair.
It was a person. How long had they been out here? Was she too late?
She swam faster against the waves. She was strong from dancing but had never learned to be a fast swimmer. Swimming was more of a recreation for her. Her parents had insisted she learn and made sure she knew CPR.
Julie finally got to the person—boy?—and grabbed his shoulders. A shiver went down her spine when she touched his skin. She leaned into him as if her body were on strings. She wanted to lie next to him, brush his hair back from his eyes, and sigh. What color were his eyes? She shook off the thoughts. It must have been the excitement or dread of the moment.
She flopped his head back so his face was exposed and almost let go when she saw who it was.
Rory.
Her head dipped beneath the waves for a moment as she stopped paddling out of shock. A welt on the side of his head started bleeding as soon as his head cleared the water. A trail of pink floated out into the ocean. Julie took a deep breath, coughing on seawater, and got a better grip on him. Her heart pounded. He felt cold, but she thought he might still be alive.
Holding his upper body, she kicked back, letting his head rest against her chest as she tried to do a one-armed backstroke. It was easier going back; with no rip tide, the waves pushed her back in.
She got to a point where she could stand and dragged him out of the water by wedging her arms through his armpits. He was so heavy. She shivered violently, even though she didn't feel cold. She didn't feel anything right now.
Was he still alive? He was warmer now. He had to be alive. His skin seemed to tingle with heat as she touched him. She shuddered as she felt warmer from the small contact.
Laying him on his side, Julie patted his back to try to get water out. Water trickled out of his mouth. What if he was dead? The thought made her want to curl into a ball and cry.
When it looked like all the water was out, she laid him on his back and put her ear to his chest. There was no sound, and he wasn't moving. She put her lips to his, ignoring the curious warm tingling that spread throughout her.
Julie pushed a breath into him. He started to sputter, and she sat back as he leaned over and heaved up more seawater. She patted him on the back to try to help. After a minute, he stopped and tried to sit up.
"Rory? It is Rory, right? Are you okay?" Her wet hair spilled around them, shading them from view.
Instead of answering, he grasped her hand, staring intently at her. A lock of his wet hair fell over one of his eyes.
They weren't just gray, but gray like a storm coming over the ocean. How had she not noticed this before? They were beautiful, with flecks of blue around his pupils. She could get lost in that storm with him if he asked her.
A shiver crawled up her spine, and she had to fight an urge to push him back down on the sand and kiss him. Had she felt this way right before she lost her memory?
But she didn't feel foggy at all. She knew she would always remember this moment.
He let go of her hand, and she shook her head in confusion. What was wrong with her? He almost died.
Plus he's a complete jerk.
Why would she want to kiss him?
"Rory?" someone screamed from down the beach. Julie looked up to see all the others racing to where she sat with him.
"Rory? Are you okay?"
His wide eyes moved from hers to see the others.
"Rory?"
"What happened, man?
"Are you okay?"
Julie stood up and backed away as his friends surrounded him. She wrapped her arms around her body, shivering even though it wasn't cold. She kept her eyes on Rory.
She must have imagined everything that happened when she touched him. Or was it the excitement of pulling him out of the water.
Rory didn't speak to anyone but sent the occasional glance her way. The group moved away from her, taking him with them to get him a towel and warmed up. No one said a word to her.
Julie stood there in disbelief, staring at them all walk away for a few minutes. Rory didn't even thank her for pulling him out of the water before he died. She felt like screaming at them.
Her shivering stopped as she balled up her hands in anger. The sparkle of sunlight on the water caught her attention, and she felt herself drifting away. She struggled to stay focused, trying to calm her rising panic. She did not want to forget again.
She took a deep breath, as if she were about to start dancing, and felt her mind snap back. A jolt went through her body, and she was instantly warmer. Her muscles awakened like they did when she danced. She unclenched her jaw. What was their deal anyway?
It looked like she was on her own. Julie looked back at the water, debating about swimming, and then back down the beach to where the other kids were. It was weird to be over here by herself while they all snubbed her down there. She shouldn't let them scare her off, but she felt tired from everything. She didn't want to go home yet, but she didn't want to stay here with them either.
With a sigh, she peeled off her wet clothes and went to her bag to dry off with her towel. She stuffed her clothes in her bag. She definitely wasn't going to ask to borrow anyone's clothes since they didn't even thank her after saving their friend's life. She would have to ride her moped home in her swimsuit.
Any lingering ideas about kissing Rory left her as she thought about what asses he and his friends were. What the hell had she been thinking?
With one last glance down the beach at everyone babying Rory, Julie stalked away in her bathing suit and flip flops, knees in the wind and her towel flapping around her waist. At the top of the ridge she looked down again, unable to help herself, looking for Rory.
She didn't see him. He was sitting down on a towel or something. As she started to turn her eyes back to the path she noticed that one girl stood apart from the rest. Her brown hair whipped around her perfectly proportioned body, reminding her of Kara. It could only be Melissande.
And she was staring right back.
Julie couldn't see her expression, but something about Melissande's rigid stance warned her that it wasn't good. Wonderful. For some reason, saving Rory had made her an enemy.
She shouldn't have bothered.
She got back to her moped, mad at herself. She couldn't stop thinking about him and his stormy gray eyes. She wanted to puke. The reaction she had to him must have been another side effect of whatever was going on. How could she have had those feelings for someone she didn't like?
But even more strange, something about Rory made her think of the vivid blue eyes from her dreams. It was like she is being tugged between them.
Julie needed to find something else to focus on. Going back to her empty house with only her thoughts seems like a bad idea. Thinking about Rory would drive her crazy. If she wasn't already.
***
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