Oliver closed his eyes and forced himself to take slow, calming breaths. His fingers were shaking as he slowly stepped up to the deck. The sun nearly blinded him. His hand instinctively flew up to cover his eyes. Ow.
He stumbled towards the railing and waited until his eyes grew adjusted to the brightness. He watched as smiling, chatting passengers were rowed away from The Queen Francis towards the island. Am I really about to do this?
He swallowed nervously and took a cautious step backwards. The easiest thing for him to do would be to turn around and go right back to his cabin. He wouldn’t show his face until the passengers gathered in the dining cabin for dinner. Or he could take the courageous route and stick to his plan.
Follow Hayley.
“Easier said than done,” he muttered to himself. Though this wasn’t the first time he had been on a boat, this was the farthest he had ever been from home. He wasn’t exactly a fan of traveling. But as soon as Hayley had said she was going on a boat trip, he felt horrible for not saying what he should have said right then and there.
Oliver squeezed his eyes shut and forced the memory away. What’s done is done. I’m just a stuttering fool in Hayley’s eyes. I shouldn’t have rushed down to the harbor and watched her board this boat. I shouldn’t have followed her. But his instincts had been too much handle. He was a lonely college student with no friends and a family that lived hundreds of miles away in Maine. I should have known I never had a chance with her.
Now, watching Hayley’s glossy brown hair whip around her shoulders as she glided across the open sea, he felt a sudden surge of bravery. He still had a chance. This wasn’t over yet. He just had to get on a rowboat and follow her to that island.
“I’m gonna die,” he squeaked, slowly edging towards the line of passengers boarding the remaining rowboats. He must have looked pale and clammy, because when one of the crew helped him off the boat, he grabbed Oliver’s arm and asked, “Sir, are you alright?”
Oliver managed a quick nod, but it didn’t seem to convince the sailor. Oliver was given a wary look and a polite nudge into the rowboat.
The trip to the island seemed to take hours. Every bump and rough patch of water made Oliver want to heave. He had spent most of his time on The Queen Francis in the head, vomiting or worrying about his poor planning. He hadn’t even brought even clothes to last the entire trip—only two shirts, one pair of shorts, some Airwalks and a junky sweatshirt.
Oliver wished, more than anything at that moment, to back in his dorm room. It was an adventure going to Florida for college by himself, for Pete’s sake. But now he was on a tourist boat in the middle of the Caribbean chasing a girl who didn’t even know he was following her? It was absurd.
“Sir?”
Oliver snapped back to reality. He realized another of the crew was tugging on his sleeve, waiting to help him out of the rowboat. “Sir, we’ve reached the island. Would you mind stepping out, or do you want to return to the boat?”
Oliver licked his chapped lips and mumbled a few words of apology. He stumbled out of the rowboat, nearly face-planting into the sand in the process. He gathered his wits and swept the shore for any sign of Hayley.
She had a good fifteen-minute start ahead of him, but it looked like she had settled in just fine on her own little section of the beach. Oliver sullenly plopped down in the sand and forced himself not to make eye contact. He suddenly realized he had no plan other than to follow Hayley to the island. Great. Just great.
He sighed and waited patiently. For the next half-hour, he watched and waited and felt himself getting more and more sunburnt. Tourists splashed in the warm water. Oliver sneaked a glance at Hayley in his peripheral vision and saw her taking pictures. People laughed and talked as they built sandcastles on the shore. Hayley had moved back to her towel and was sunbathing. Others were sunbathing now too. Oliver realized his sunburn was getting worse—and he felt an awful lot like a stalker. This wasn’t the first time he had followed Hayley without her knowing. He had snuck up behind her on many occasions, but never actually worked up the courage to give away he was on the same boat. What an awkward confrontation that would be—and Oliver was already plenty awkward to begin with. Now he could add Ultimate Stalker Status to his list of faults.
He frowned and let out another sigh. Well, at least I’ve accomplished something today: I’ve set foot on my first deserted island.
Yes, this was the first island Oliver had visited, and so far it wasn’t living up to his expectations. But then again, what did he expect? Carnivorous plants and shrieking monkeys chucking coconuts from palm trees? Maybe the better question was what he didn’t expect—which included happy-go-lucky tourists splashing in the water and tromping all over the beach. They kind of took out the “deserted” in “deserted island.”
He sighed for a third time and lay back down in the sand. The hot sun was burning his skin to a crisp, but he didn’t mind. His fair skin could use a little tan anyway. Or sunburn. Whichever came first.
Before long, his eyelids drooped closed and he drifted off into a quiet nap. He didn’t awake until a few hours later, when the loud chattering of teenagers jolted him out of his sleep. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, puzzled at his surroundings for a few seconds. Then he remembered.
“Oh.” He yawned and scratched his head. His glasses were perched crookedly on his nose, so he righted them and sat up straight to keep them from slipping down any further. He suddenly remembered what he was doing and why he was here.
Hayley. He sneaked another glance in her direction, hoping she hadn’t strolled along the beach and seen him without Oliver knowing. Then he gasped. Crap! She’s gone!
He leaped to his feet. An older gentleman reading a magazine glanced up at him. “Hey, you were blocking the sun for me. Can you sit back down?”
“N-no. Sorry,” Oliver stammered, too flustered to give a decent reply. He sped off towards the place where Hayley had been sitting. Her towel was still there, but her clothes were gone. Wherever she went, it’s not the water, he mused. He swept his gaze over the beach just to make sure he wasn’t overreacting.
She definitely wasn’t on the beach. So where is she? Oliver had heard the captain give specific instructions not to leave the area. She has to be here. She has to.
After a few minutes of searching, it was clear where Hayley wasn’t—the beach.
That left only two options—the ocean or the jungle. Oliver knew for a fact she wasn’t in the water. With a prickly feeling, he turned towards the jungle and swallowed. Hayley, I hope you’re not in there…
For all Oliver knew, there could be a hidden spring filled with deadly piranhas or giant Venus flytraps just waiting to devour any person within their reach. He gasped and quickly shook those thoughts from his mind.
Suddenly, a voice rang out above the hordes of passengers swarming the beach. “Attention! Please gather your belongings and return to the rowboats. Everyone needs to leave the shore within the next fifteen minutes. Pick up any trash as well.”
Oliver’s heart sank. No. No, no, no! He took one more furtive glance towards the jungle before scurrying away. He found Hayley’s belongings and stared intently at her towel, which was lying exactly where she had left it. If there was a moment where Oliver wished someone could appear out of thin air, this was it.
“Come on, Hayley,” he muttered. “Where are you?” He grew anxious as more and more passengers were loaded into the rowboats. Everyone was leaving. Towels were lifted off the sand. Food wrappers and Coke cans were picked up by the crew and stashed into plastic bags to preserve the identity of the island. Before long, the only things remaining on the beach were footprints, sandcastles, and Hayley’s towel.
And Oliver.
“Sir! Sir, everyone is leaving. You have to get in the boat.” A crew member pointed a finger at Oliver, then at the boat halfway filled with tourists. Some were scowling impatiently and some looked worn-out from lounging in the sun and saltwater all day.
Oliver glanced over his shoulder at the jungle. He gestured towards Hayley’s towel. “Uh, I think there’s…um…”
“Oh, someone must have left it.” The sailor quickly snatched Hayley’s towel and draped it over one shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll find out who it belongs to.”
Oliver swallowed. “No, that’s not…I m-mean…” He closed his eyes and groaned in frustration.
“Sir, you have to come with me to the rowboat,” the sailor said impatiently.
Oliver violently shook his head.
“Now,” he added.
Oliver frowned. “Y-you don’t understand. Someone’s in trouble. L-lots of trouble! Her name is—”
The sailor rolled his eyes and helped Oliver to his feet. “Alright, who’s in trouble? What’s going on?”
Oliver froze when he spotted a shock of brown hair over the sailor’s shoulder. He stepped to the side to get a better view. There, in one of the rowboats already headed back to The Queen Francis, was Hayley!
He breathed a sigh of relief, mentally chastising himself for being such a worrywart. “N-nothing,” he stuttered.
“Good. Let’s head back, then.”
Oliver had never been more relieved to set foot on a boat. He eagerly took a seat next an acne-ridden teenager, bracing himself for the bumpy ride back to The Queen Francis. Back to dinner. Back to his normal routine. And, eventually, back to Florida and his college lifestyle.
I’m never taking another boat tour again.