The Islanders (6 page)

“OH, NO,” ZOEY SAID, PUSHING
her way back through the crowd. “Oh, no. He's going to freak.”

She backed away from the list that had been posted on the bulletin board near the principal's office. Other kids took her place, crowding in to read the names on the list. Zoey glanced apprehensively down the hallway, but in the early preclass crowd it was impossible to spot Lucas. The halls were jammed with loudly gossiping, shouting, teasing, worrying kids, grouped in twos and threes and fours around open lockers, milling in and out of rest rooms, jostling around the water fountain. The stairwells were slow-moving conveyor belts of humanity, going up and down, stopping, screaming, a moving picture painted with strokes of hair and patterned spandex, dull books and bright plastic, objects thrown and caught and dropped. The walls were hung with posters, exhortations to various teams taped to pale blue cinder-block walls.

From somewhere in the tight-packed mass Lucas emerged.
Not the person Zoey wanted to see at that particular moment.

“Hey, Zo,” he called. He grinned. “You're an island of calm beauty in a sea of noisy mediocrity.”

She smiled uncertainly. “You're poetic this morning.”

“Why wouldn't I be? I heard they're killing last period to hold an assembly. No French today.
Pas de français, chérie.
”

Zoey glanced nervously toward the list. “Uh-huh. Do you happen to know what the assembly is for?”

Lucas shrugged. “Probably the usual.” He counted on his fingers. “It's either one, an antidrug lecture, which I don't need, or two, an anti-booze lecture, which I also don't need, or three, an anti-sex lecture, which you give me every couple of days.” He grinned to show he was just teasing. “Or else it's some student-government-pep-spirit-we're-better-than-everyone-else-so-let's-cheer-some-crowd-of-jock-dorks kind of thing.”

“Partly it's a pep rally,” Zoey agreed. “It's also to introduce the candidates for homecoming king and queen.”

“That would fall into the category of cheering some crowd of dorks,” Lucas said.

Zoey winced.

“Oh, hell, I'm sorry, Zoey,” Lucas said quickly, coming to give her a hug. “Of course if you're up for it, that's totally different. You could never be a dork. I shouldn't have said that. There's nothing wrong with being more into the school thing
than I am. I hope you win. Really. That is it, isn't it? I mean, you're one of the candidates, right?”

“Yes, actually I am,” Zoey said. “But you know, it's not like people nominate themselves. And anyway, to be on the list you have to have received a dozen votes.”

“See? At least a dozen people realize how great you are. Hell, I'm sorry I didn't think of it or I would have been the thirteenth.”

“Lucas . . .”

“What?”

“I'm not the only one on that list.”

“Well, sure, there are other aspiring homecoming queens.”

“And kings.”

“Now, I'm sorry, but those guys
are
dorks,” Lucas said. “It's one thing for a girl. But a guy? Homecoming king? Why not just tattoo
dork
on your forehead and get it over with?”

“There are five guys on the list,” Zoey said.

“Five poor dumb—”

“You're number three,” Zoey said in a rush.

Lucas stared at her strangely. “No, I'm not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Homecoming king. Me.”

Zoey nodded.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I'm going to kill Aisha. She did this. She was the one talking about what a great idea it would be. Where is she?” He spun around and searched the crowd.

“It took a dozen votes,” Zoey pointed out.

“Twelve people said to themselves, Gee, I know, I'll nominate Lucas Cabral. He'd love it. Oh, yeah, Lucas has always wanted to be crowned King of the Dweebs, Lord of Losers.”

“It's supposed to be an honor,” Zoey told him.

“Not for
me
,” Lucas cried. “I'm not one of
them.
I'm one of the outsiders, the rebels, the misfits. God, don't these people understand anything? You know what my old cellmates would say if they found out I was running for homecoming king? This is the kind of thing people like Jake do.”

“He's on the list, too,” Zoey said. “And why is it okay for me to do it, and that's cool, but it's totally different if it's you?”

Lucas looked confused. “Why is it different?” he repeated, playing for time.

“That's right, why is it different?”

“Um, because you're a girl?” he asked tentatively.

“Ha!” She pointed an accusing finger at him.

“Wrong answer. Um, look, I'm me and you're you. You are the type of person who should be homecoming queen. I'm the kind of person who should be homecoming barbarian.”

The bell rang shrilly, blanking out the murmur of background noise. When it stopped, a collective groan went up from hundreds of mouths.

“I have to get to class,” Zoey said frostily.

“Are you mad at me? You are, aren't you?”

“I'm not mad. I'm just a little hurt.”

“Oh, that's worse,” Lucas said.

“I'll try to get over it.”

Lucas grabbed her hand as she started to walk away and pulled her to him. He tried to kiss her, but she was feeling resentful.

“Why should I kiss you?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Because you like it?”

Zoey gave him a dirty look. Then she kissed him lightly on the lips. “I'm still a little hurt,” she said.

“Yeah, but
I
feel better!” he yelled after her.

“Go, Warriors, go, go. Go, Warriors, go!” Zoey shouted.

“Go, Warriors, go, go. Go, Warriors, go!” Aisha said a little less enthusiastically.

“Blah blahblah, blah blah. Blah blahblah, blah,” Nina said.

Claire read a book.

“I knew he was going to do this,” Zoey fumed. She half stood in the bleachers and searched the densely packed rows of
kids. The pep rally was well under way in the big, aging, and somewhat aromatic gym, and Lucas was nowhere to be seen. “He's bailed, the coward. He's hoping they'll get him for skipping last period and make him ineligible.”

“I wish I'd thought of skipping this whole thing,” Nina said glumly. “Here we go again.”

“We'll hit 'em again, we'll hit 'em again, we'll hit 'em one more time!” Zoey and Aisha cried on cue.

“We'll castrate them using blunt knives,” Nina cried, causing several people nearby to turn and glare. “We'll gouge out their eyes and swallow them like oysters!”

Claire glanced up from her book, gave her sister a pained look, and shook her head slightly.

“Beat Camden, beat Camden, beat Camden,” the chant began, becoming rhythmic and mesmerizing.

Nina jumped up, clenching her fists. “I vow total destruction on everyone from Camden. Kill the Camdenites! Slaughter them like pigs! They are the epitome of evil and must be wiped from the face of the earth! Forget football; we'll bomb the bastards! We'll make slaves of their children and whores of their women! Their men will be turned into beasts of burden!”

“Hi, Nina. That is you, isn't it?”

Zoey turned and saw her brother four rows back, looking amusedly in Nina's general direction. Nina seemed to blush.

“Hi, Benjamin!” Nina yelled up to him.

“I don't think you're taking this very seriously,” Benjamin said in mock disapproval.

“I'm just trying to get into the whole fascist-barbarian-fundamentalist school-spirit thing,” Nina explained.

A swell of noise blocked out Benjamin's next response. Zoey pulled Nina back down to her seat.

“Am I embarrassing you, Mom?” Nina asked Zoey.

“No, but they're getting to the nominations now,” Zoey said, checking once more for any sign of Lucas. She bit her lip in vexation. The jerk. Didn't it occur to him that at least a dozen people had shown some affection for him by voting for him? Didn't it occur to him that this was the student body's way of acknowledging that he wasn't the criminal creep they had thought he was?

“Lucas thinks I set this whole thing up, doesn't he?” Aisha asked.

“He'll get over it,” Zoey grumbled.

“Make sure you tell him I didn't,” Aisha said.

“I'll tell him, if I ever talk to the weasel again,” Zoey said.

“Ah, true love,” Nina remarked.

“With my luck Jake will win for king and I'll win for queen and then—” Zoey bit off the rest of her complaint as she saw Claire's head come up suddenly.

“Ooh, that got her attention,” Nina said gleefully. “The king and queen do have to dance, right? Slow dance? And isn't there a big ceremonial kiss?”

“There is no ceremonial kiss,” Claire said.

“Really?” Nina professed shock. “Then I guess the part where the royal couple retire to the couch in the teachers' lounge and try to make a little prince or princess . . . I guess that's not true, either.”

Claire made her cool, superior smile. “The king and queen have an officially platonic relationship. You'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Nina? No kissing, no romance?”

Zoey and Aisha both swiveled their heads toward Nina, waiting for her next shot, but it didn't come. Instead Nina just made a face.

That was mean of Claire
, Zoey thought. Nina's feelings had really been hurt. Although Nina had certainly been asking for it.

Nina yanked open her purse, pulled out a cigarette, and stuck it defiantly in the corner of her mouth.

“As you know, next week will be homecoming.” Mr. Hardcastle had stepped up to the microphone. Cheers greeted his announcement. “And that means we have to choose a homecoming king and queen to officiate.”

“Mr. Hardcastle for queen!” a voice yelled out.

“Good one,” Nina said approvingly. “Wish I'd thought of it.”

“We have a list of five candidates for each position . . .”

“He's not here,” Zoey said. “He's not going to show up.”

“As I read off the names, will the individuals please come down so we can all get a look at you . . .”

“Don't trip,” Aisha whispered. “It makes a bad impression.”

“Tad Crowley . . .”

“Isn't that the guy you made out with at that party?” Aisha asked. “You know, back when you and Jake were having a fight or something?”

“I didn't make out with him,” Zoey said. “I just kissed him once.”

“. . . Louise Kronenberger.”

“K-burger?” Nina said. “No way. You'll kick her butt, Zoey.”

“The only votes she'll get are from guys she's slept with.” Aisha smirked.

“So she'll be pretty big competition,” Nina said.

“. . . Jake McRoyan . . .”

Claire stood up and gave a completely uncharacteristic yell of support, joined by many others.

“Now I can die,” Nina said, staring at her sister. “I've seen everything. The things people will do for romance.”

“In your case, nothing,” Claire shot back.

Jake was making his way, threading through the crowded
stands to trot out onto the shiny gym floor and shake hands with Tad Crowley.

“. . . Kay Appleton . . .”

“Oh, not her,” Aisha said.

“You don't like Kay?” Zoey asked.

“She's such a phony. She always comes off like Miss Sweetness and Light. But she can turn instantly into this total barracuda.”

“. . . Lucas Cabral . . .”

Zoey stretched up to look. The only movement in the stands was Kay, making her way down to the floor.

“. . . Lucas Cabral?” the principal repeated. “Is he out today? Well, we'll skip over him for now. On to our next candidate for queen . . . Zoey Passmore.”

Zoey rose to her feet, still annoyed at Lucas but trying to force an appropriate smile.

“Zoey Passmore?” Aisha said in a disbelieving tone. “Who nominated her?”

“Really, she's such a witch,” Nina said.

NINA LOOKED BLEAKLY ACROSS THE
top deck of the ferry. As far as the passengers of her own age were concerned, it was divided up into impenetrable territories. In one zone Zoey and Lucas, arguing in Zoey's usual discreet, quiet, restrained way. Some distance away, in zone two, Aisha and Christopher were standing close to each other, murmuring and occasionally kissing.

Then, in zone three, there was Claire. Nina didn't have to make any special effort to avoid Claire. That was second nature to both of them.

Claire had begun by standing beside Jake at the forward rail, but Jake had pointedly moved away, taking a seat. Claire had pointedly followed him and now sat several feet from him on the same bench. They weren't speaking. Claire was reading and Jake was scowling, but it looked like a moral victory for Claire.

Only Benjamin sat alone. And only Nina stood alone.

Any other time, Nina would have felt no great hesitation
about taking a seat beside him. They were friends, after all. But somehow the geography of the deck on this day would make it seem like she was being obvious. It was all boyfriends and girlfriends, even if Claire and Jake were in some type of limbo, and even if Zoey and Lucas were fighting.

Still, it was girls with the guys they liked. That was the arrangement, boyfriends and girlfriends, like it was in so much of life. And if she just went on over and plopped down beside Benjamin, wouldn't that make it look like she was trying to act like his girlfriend?

Claire had already teased her once about being in love with Benjamin. It had probably just been teasing. Certainly Claire couldn't know how true it was.

So it is true?
Nina asked herself. Was it love she felt for Benjamin? Why should she? He obviously would never see her as anything but a friend.

She liked him, yes. But did she feel
that
way about him?

She stole a closer look at him, sitting there with earphones on, probably listening to some music she wouldn't even recognize, let alone enjoy. His eyes perpetually hidden behind the darkest-possible sunglasses.

She'd only seen his eyes a few times since he'd lost his sight. They were dark brown, and looked normal except that they never focused. They were always pointed just a little bit wrong.
Benjamin could fake it better with his shades on. Then you didn't notice that no matter how hard he tried to look like he was gazing right into your eyes, he was really staring at nothing at all.

“Would I like you if you could see?” she whispered, unaware until she heard the words that she was speaking aloud.

She looked at his mouth. Did she want to kiss him?

Well, did she? That's what guys and girls did. It's what Lucas was doing to Zoey, trying to get her to lighten up. It's what Aisha and Christopher were doing.

She tried to picture it—Benjamin leaning close, his mouth moving toward hers.

The only time a guy had seriously tried to kiss her and touch her she had practically hurled.

Nina realized she was wringing her hands, twisting her fingers together. She put her hands at her sides and leaned back casually against the railing. She was fine. She was cool. Who cared what people thought of her, anyway?

Could you be in love with someone and
not
want them to at least kiss you? Was that possible? Because that was how she felt.

She could imagine telling Benjamin she loved him. She could even imagine him, somehow, feeling the same about her. But the thought of him looking at her with that look Nina had so often seen guys aim at her sister, at her best friend. . . That
look made her sick. That was the truth: it just made her feel sick and brought memories flooding up out of the hidden parts of her mind. Of course, Benjamin couldn't look at her that way, or any way. He couldn't stare at her. He couldn't even kiss her unless she wanted him to. And he couldn't touch her . . . He couldn't touch her unless she invited him to.

Zoey pouted, her chin raised loftily, gazing with feigned unconcern toward the island. If Lucas wanted to be a jerk, okay. He could be a jerk. If he wanted to act like he was too good to be involved in the lowly activities of the school, fine, then he was too good. She wasn't going to try to talk him into it anymore.

If he wanted to hurt the feelings of the people who had nominated him and basically slap them each in the face, it wasn't Zoey's problem.

Then she caught sight of Nina, standing alone by the railing. Maybe Nina's approach was better overall. Here Zoey was, unhappy because of a guy, and Claire was unhappy because of a guy. Aisha looked happy enough, but that was just one out of three, not very good odds.

Not that Nina seemed very happy at the moment, either. Something was bothering her. All day long she had been too shrill, too strange. Too
Nina.

Lucas shifted on the bench beside her, drawing Zoey's
attention back to him.

The jerk. What was worse was that he was acting like he just assumed he'd
win
homecoming king. Not exactly a sure thing when one of the other guys running was Jake. Jake had lots of friends in school. He was a very popular guy.

In fact, he was the best bet to win. Then, if Zoey won herself, she would be in the awkward position of reigning with her former boyfriend.

She wondered how Lucas would feel about that.

A slow smile spread on Zoey's face. Had Lucas even thought of that possibility?

She sighed. “I've decided you're right, Lucas. If you don't want to be involved, I respect that.”

“You do?” he asked suspiciously.

“Absolutely,” she said. “It won't be so bad. First of all, I probably won't win. Second of all, even if I do, Jake will probably win for the guys and it will be like old times, me and him together. Me and Jake. Together.”

Lucas looked at her impassively. “Nice try.”

Aisha savored the feel of his lips on hers. Okay, she had been dumb to fight it so long. She was prepared to admit it, she had been dumb. She'd been attracted to Christopher right from the start, that was the truth. And she'd only resisted because she
didn't want him to take her for granted. She'd wanted to make the point that they weren't doomed by fate to be together just because they were both black and living on a lily-white island in one of the country's whitest states. She had been standing up for the principle that fate didn't decide things,
she
decided things.

Big deal. Principle.

She smiled at him, and he smiled back. He murmured something sweet and she said something back.

Then they kissed again.

I wonder if he knows how I feel about him now? I wonder if he's smirking inside, thinking “I knew all along she couldn't resist me”? He's enough of an egomaniac to believe that.

Who cares? So he was right. Good for him. I'm glad.

Am I falling in love?

No. That's not what it is. It's too soon for that. Love takes forever to develop, as two people get to know each other and respect each other, share the same interests.

This is just . . .

He kissed her again.

. . .
really nice.

She opened her eyes as they kissed and, to her surprise, realized his eyes were open, too. He was looking away.

She pulled back and turned to follow the direction of his gaze. There was Benjamin, sitting a distance away. And beyond
him, an attractive woman who commuted on to Allworthy Island. She was twentysomething and had hiked up her skirt to be able to rub a sore foot.

Aisha cocked a dubious eyebrow at Christopher.

He looked back at her innocently. “I was wondering what Benjamin was listening to.”

“You weren't looking at that woman?”

“What woman?”

Claire stared down at the pages of her book without reading any of the words. Her whole attention was on Jake, sitting a short distance away. He was staring out at the water, staring without moving or shifting his gaze, staring just so that he could avoid looking at her.

This was pathetic. She was making a fool of herself. In her entire life she had never thrown herself at any guy. She'd never had to; they had always thrown themselves at her.

Which was the way things ought to be.

Why was she doing this?

She stole a glance at Jake. Yes, yes, he was good-looking. But her boyfriends had always been good-looking. And she never would have acted this way over Lucas, back when she was going out with him, or over Benjamin, either.

Screw him. If he didn't want her anymore, to hell with him.
She could take a hint. She'd never had to take a hint before, but she wasn't blind. Jake wasn't even being subtle. He'd told her to take a hike. Get lost

No one had ever told her to get lost before. It was infuriating. The way it worked was that
she
dropped guys, not the other way around.

That's why she was so intent on getting Jake back, she told herself. She wasn't going to let him have the final word. No. She'd win him back and then
she
could dump
him.

That was it. It was just a matter of pride. Pride mixed with a little guilt.

Either that or she really had fallen for him, really was in love the way she'd told him she was.

In which case, she was just being pathetic.

Nina was crammed onto the stairs that led down from the upper deck to the gangway, with Zoey and Lucas behind her and Benjamin behind them. Zoey and Lucas seemed to have reached a level of polite truce.

For some reason, the line wasn't moving. “Oh, man, don't hold me up at the end of a long day of school,” Nina muttered.

“They're getting the living dead off first,” Lucas said in a low voice. “There was a crowd of them below.”

“Lucas, we call them elderly, not living dead,” Zoey said.

“Whatever they are, they're pissing me off,” Nina said.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” Zoey asked.

“Did someone die down there?” Aisha's voice filtered down from above.

“No, but someone's going to if I don't get off this stairwell!” Nina yelled. A businesswoman turned to look at her. “PMS,” Nina explained.

“I thought you didn't believe in PMS as an excuse,” Zoey said. “You never let me get away with it.”

“I don't believe in it when it's you,” Nina said. “Only when it's me.”

“That sounds fair.”

“Later I'm going to get a high-powered rifle, climb up on the roof, and shoot passersby while babbling about some conspiracy.”

“Before you do that, do you think you can read to me for an hour or so?” Benjamin asked.

The line began to move down the stairs at last. “Sure, Benjamin,” Nina said. “Just let me check in at home and change into something more comfortable than this full-length, diamond-studded, Marchesa dress I'm wearing.” Nina looked down at her oversized shorts and baggy, layered top.

“Hey, don't try to fool me,” Benjamin chided. “I know those aren't real diamonds.”

Nina got off the boat and headed toward her house. Claire was heading to the same destination, of course, but half a block behind. It would never have occurred to either girl to walk together.

She stepped inside the large, well-decorated entryway and peeked to the right, into her father's dark, book-lined study. He wasn't there.

“Anyone home?” she yelled without much interest. There was no answer. It was Janelle's day off and her father would either have to wait for the next ferry home or catch the water taxi.

Nina slung her island bag with its load of books onto the antique oak dressing stand and headed straight down the hall to the kitchen. Lunch at school had involved dead cow, which she did not eat. So she was hungry now for some dead peanut.

She noticed the answering machine on the counter blinking twice. Two messages.

“Food first,” she said. In the refrigerator she found raspberry preserves. With bread and peanut butter she made herself a sandwich and was just taking a first bite when she heard Claire come in the front door.

“Anyone home?” Claire asked.

“Me.”

“Besides you.”

“Just me and my sandwich,” Nina said, taking a second bite.

“Have you checked the machine yet?”

“Go for it,” Nina mumbled through a sticky lump of Jif.

Claire pushed the play button. What came on was the truncated, last few seconds of a machine-produced message.

“. . . so we hope you will take advantage of this special opportunity to consider switching to AT&T. Don't forget: switching is free. Thank you.”

After an electronic beep, the second message began.

“Hi, is anyone home? If anyone is home, please pick up. All right, I guess no one's home . . .”

“That would explain why we have the machine on,” Nina muttered.

“. . . Anyway, Burke, if this is your machine, this is Elizabeth calling. I just wanted to let you know that Mark and I will be coming in Sunday, probably late morning if the traffic isn't too bad. We look forward to seeing you and the girls. Bye-bye.”

“Are you trying to mangle that sandwich?” Claire asked, staring at Nina disapprovingly.

Nina looked at the mess in her hand. She had crushed the sandwich, and now jelly and peanut butter were oozing through her fingers. She threw it into the trash and began washing her hands in the sink.

“Are you okay?” Claire asked.

“Fine,” Nina said.

Claire sighed. “Great. Relatives. Well, there's no way to get out of it.”

“Don't you like them?” Nina asked suddenly.

Claire shrugged. “They're relatives. Which means they think they have the right to ask me a lot of dumb, personal questions and tell a lot of boring stories.”

“No, I mean, do you dislike them especially? Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle . . .”

“. . . Mark.” Claire supplied the name. “They've always seemed okay. I mean, Aunt E. is like Dad in a bad dress and with no sense of humor. And Uncle Mark is just boring. But at least they don't have kids.”