Never Ever (14 page)

“What's this?” Phinn asked, holding a mug.

“French apple flower soup. We boiled the apple flower, added a bunch of spices, and puréed it. There's a layer of fried dough and cheese on top.”

Phinn sniffed it suspiciously, then downed the soup.

“Holy crap!” he blurted, crinkling his forehead.

Oh God,
Wylie thought.
He hates it. He's going to puke it up right here in front of everyone, and they'll burn me at the stake for offending his taste buds.

“It's . . . phenomenal.”

Wylie grinned. “It's a party in your mouth, right?”

Phinn laughed at the expression. “Yes, it's a party in my mouth.”

He tasted the other dishes, and they all solicited a similar reaction. Lola walked over with Maz, and he was just as complimentary as he stuffed his face with lettuce cups.

“We pulled it off,” Lola whispered. “The food is a hit, lady.”

Wylie put an arm around her. “We're basically culinary rock stars.”

Within minutes, adoring residents surrounded Phinn,
and Wylie found herself pushed to the outskirts of the group. She gave Phinn a nod to indicate she didn't mind spending a few minutes without him, stocked a plate with food, and brought it over to Joshua, who was sitting alone at a table.

With all the time she'd spent in the kitchen the past few days, she hadn't even had the chance to ask him if he had a date to prom. Now she looked around the room at all the guests. Everyone was paired off. He was the only one who didn't have a date.

“I come bearing gifts,” Wylie said as she grabbed a seat next to him and placed the plate between them.

“Don't feel bad for me,” Joshua told Wylie, expertly reading the expression on her face. “It wouldn't feel right to be here with someone other than Abigail anyway.”

“No wonder you don't have a date, if you didn't bother to ask anyone.”

“I asked three girls. Everyone here already has a boyfriend—or isn't into guys.”

“Maybe before Abigail turns eighteen, we can convince Phinn to bring her to the island.”

“No!” Joshua was quick and adamant in his response. “She doesn't belong here.”

“Okay, never mind. Sorry I brought it up.”

“No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you.”

Wylie wanted to ask why he was so opposed to the idea of Abigail moving here. But unlike the Joshua from back home, her brother now kept most things close to the vest. The chief of staff title had gone straight to his head.

“Don't look now, but your favorite person's on her way
over here,” Joshua said. Wylie glanced over her shoulder and saw Micah dragging Tinka over to their table.

“Do you think she's gonna to try to beat me up again?”

“I've got your back if she does.”

Since Tinka's release from detox, Wylie had gone out of her way to avoid her. It wasn't that hard. Tinka spent most of her time with Micah behind closed doors, and when they did cross paths at the daily birth control ritual, or some evenings in the Clearing, they simply didn't acknowledge each other.

“Hi, Wylie,” Tinka mumbled once they arrived at the table.

“Hi.”

“Can we talk someplace private?”

“I'd rather not go anywhere alone with you,” Wylie half joked, but she followed her to a corner of the dining room, close enough to the festivities, where anyone could restrain Tinka in case of an assault.

“I've been really unfair to you,” Tinka spilled out. “My memories from the residency party are pretty fuzzy, but I've been told I attacked you. There's no excuse for what I did, and I'm really sorry. It won't happen again.”

“Thanks for the apology,” Wylie said. “But honestly, I just want you to promise you won't hurt my brother.”

Wylie glanced at Micah, who was anxiously trying to gauge how their conversation was going.

“Micah? I won't hurt him.”

“I mean it, Tinka. He really likes you. A lot. He didn't have many friends back home. He doesn't open up to many people. But he's different with you, and if you do anything
to screw that up, it could destroy him. He's very . . . fragile. I don't want to worry about him drinking himself to death because the girl he's in love with is actually in love with someone else. Do you understand?”

“Completely,” Tinka said, nodding. “Micah knows where we stand with each other. I've been honest with him from the beginning, and I won't hurt him.”

“Good. Because if you do, I swear to God, I will make you regret it.”

“I can respect that,” Tinka said. “So, are you and Phinn official now?”

“Yes, I guess we are.”

“Congratulations. I'm happy for you.” Tinka smiled warmly. Perhaps the few days in detox had done her some good.

“Thanks,” Wylie said. She had no desire to flaunt her romance in Tinka's face. Tinka and Phinn had a history Wylie could never compete with, and the best she could do was respect their friendship.

“I'm glad we had this conversation,” Tinka said. “Maybe at some point we can even become friends.” Tinka gave her a hug and whispered in her ear, “Be careful. He has the power to destroy you.”

The moment she let go of the embrace, Tinka gave Wylie a sweet, unassuming smile. There was no acknowledgment of the cryptic warning she had just left her with. Wylie couldn't smile back as she let the words sink in.
Be careful. He has the power to destroy you
.

“Have a good prom! Phinn makes a great date,” Tinka said brightly as she walked away.

She's just messing with your head,
Wylie told herself. The warning was absurd, and Tinka must've said it to get a rise out of her. Wylie wouldn't give her the satisfaction; she'd focus on enjoying every moment of the night with Phinn. Across the room, he was still surrounded by a small crowd of residents. It was almost embarrassing to watch as they scrambled to get a word in or say something that would make Phinn laugh or nod in agreement.
This must be what it feels like to date a celebrity,
she realized.
You have to share him with all his adoring fans
.

Wylie gently pushed her way through the pack. Phinn was in the middle of a conversation, but she cut him off.

“Do you want to dance?” she asked.

“Sure,” Phinn replied.

Wylie clutched his hand tightly and led him to the dance floor. She decided not to mention the conversation with Tinka. It would only piss Phinn off and ruin their night, which was exactly what Tinka wanted. So instead, she pressed her body against Phinn's, and they moved to the music together. They stayed like that for a long time, on the dance floor, laughing and talking and holding on to each other, so no one else would bother them.

After a couple of hours, the music tapered off and Patrick took the stage with an envelope in hand. It was time to announce the prom king and queen. Everyone stopped dancing and pretended to wait in suspense for Maz and Lola to reclaim their title.

“Ladies and gentlemen of Minor Island,” Patrick announced. “I present to you this year's king and queen.”

Patrick fumbled with the envelope, then frowned and
bit his lower lip. He cleared his throat and spoke into the microphone.

“Phinn and Wylie.”

The dining room went quiet for a moment, until Maz and Lola made a point of applauding, and then everyone else followed their lead. Wylie was mortified. This was the last thing she wanted. She gave Lola an apologetic look, and Lola just smiled back as Phinn dragged Wylie to the stage.

“Why would you do this?” she hissed.

“'Cause I knew it would drive you crazy,” Phinn whispered, smirking. “Come on. We'll laugh about it in the morning.”

“Everyone is going to hate me now.”

Phinn shook his head. “No, they're going to love you because they can tell you're hating every minute of this.”

They stepped onto the stage. Wylie spotted Tinka in the distance, kissing Micah and pretending like she wasn't paying any attention to what was happening onstage. Patrick carefully placed the crowns on their heads.

Phinn was poised to address the crowd, but before he could speak, a loud boom echoed through the dining room, and the ground shook beneath their feet.

“What was that?” Wylie asked Phinn.

“Stay right here. Don't move.”

Suddenly, it was pandemonium. Wylie heard Patrick scream to Maz that they needed access to the weapons. Maz fumbled for a key in his pocket and unlocked a cabinet filled with spears and bow and arrows. The guys lined up as Maz and Patrick swiftly handed out weapons. Tinka shouted that she wanted to go with them, but Lola held her
back. Before Wylie could force someone to tell her what was happening, she found herself being dragged beneath the floorboards and engulfed in total darkness.

“Where are my brothers?” Wylie kept asking over and over, but no one would give her an answer. She wasn't sure how many people were even there with her.

“Can someone put a muzzle on her?” It was Tinka's voice, but it sounded far away.

“Micah? Joshua? Are you in here?” Wylie didn't care if Tinka wanted her to be quiet. She wouldn't stop asking for her brothers until she knew they were safe. She felt someone place a hand on her knee.

“They're not in here. It's just us girls in the basement,” Lola said. “But Phinn won't let anything happen to them.”

“We shouldn't be stuck down here,” Tinka whined. “It's ridiculous to make all the women wait. We should be helping them.”

No one else responded. It wasn't exactly the time to engage in a debate about gender politics.

“Can you tell me what's going on?” Wylie pleaded with Lola.

Lola's voice trembled when she answered.

“There's someone on the island who shouldn't be here.”

hopper was here

“i
knew
he'd come back. They could all be dead out there. . . . Please don't let anyone else vanish. Please don't let anyone else vanish,” a voice whispered.

In the pitch black, Wylie couldn't figure out who was speaking. Bailey's voice was raspier, Helen's was more high-pitched, and Nadia wasn't the hysterical type. Wylie wanted to reach out to the girl and find a way to comfort her, but she couldn't stop her own heart from pounding, and her limbs from trembling as the minutes ticked by. A few of the girls softly wept or quietly prayed, but most of them were too afraid to speak or make any sudden movements. The only thing Wylie was sure of right now was that if she got out of this basement alive, she would never hide down here again.

“It's Hopper. Phinn should have killed him when he had the chance,” the girl continued. A small cry escaped from her throat, and then she started praying:
“Never forget to live
life to the fullest. Do it for the troubled; do it for the lost. The days may feel shorter; the nights may feel long. But when we remember, our memories grow strong.”

“Shhh. Did you hear that?” Lola whispered.

The prayers and cries came to a halt as everyone listened: Footsteps, loud and thunderous. The boards above them shook, and all the girls clung to each other.

“Everything's okay!” It was Maz's voice calling to them. “We're all safe. I'm going to let you out now.” The drum of multiple footsteps could now be heard as the door to the panic room opened. Light flooded the basement and Wylie closed her eyes, blinded by the brightness. When she opened them, everyone around her was clamoring to get out.

“Take my hand, Wylie,” Maz ordered.

Wylie grabbed his hand and he pulled her aboveground. One by one each girl emerged, while the guys trickled in from the outside, still gripping their weapons. Reunions abounded as relieved and happy couples embraced and held each other tightly. Wylie spotted Phinn heading toward her, but she breezed past him and ran to the back of the dining room as Joshua and Micah entered, both clumsily holding spears. The last time they looked this scared and vulnerable, they were on the side of the road in Montauk.

“Are you guys okay?” Wylie asked, frantic with worry.

“We're fine,” Micah said, fighting back tears. He was only fifteen. He wasn't old enough to go running toward an explosion without any explanation or warning.

“What the hell is going on?” Wylie asked loudly, more angry now than scared.

“You're asking the wrong brother.” Micah gave a nod to
Joshua. “No one will tell me anything. Not even my own flesh and blood.”

Tinka made her way over to them and punched Micah in the arm.

“Glad you're not dead,” Tinka said, half joking.

“Right back at you,” Micah answered.

The energy shifted in the room as the tears quickly evolved into a mix of laughter and elation.

“Are you going to tell me what's going on?” Wylie asked Joshua.

“I think it's better if you hear it from Phinn,” he answered.

Wylie searched the room for Phinn and as usual, he was surrounded by a group of kids. From a distance, it looked like he was offering them hugs and words of comfort. Bandit followed closely behind, making notes on a clipboard as they moved from group to group. Wylie was Phinn's girlfriend. He should have checked on her by now, but she sensed she was being punished for hurtling past him and going straight to her brothers. She took a moment to gather herself, and then calmly walked toward him.

“Phinn.” She said his name gently and he held up a finger, signaling for her to wait. After a few minutes of watching him console other residents, Wylie's patience ran thin.

“We deserve to know what happened,” Wylie said, more forcefully now.

“Wylie, let it go,” Lola whispered desperately.

“But we were locked in a basement,” Wylie replied. “I think that warrants an explanation. Or does this happen
all the time around here? 'Cause it didn't make it into the Minor Island handbook.”

No one took Wylie's side or rallied behind her. They simply hung back and stared at her blankly. Even Phinn didn't bother to respond. Instead, he turned to Bandit and asked, “Is everyone accounted for?”

Bandit checked his clipboard and nodded. “Yes, no one's gone missing.”

The room breathed a communal sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank God. I really thought it was happening all over again.” The panicked voice from the basement belonged to a girl named Stacy. She was friendly with Lola, and the three of them had spent some afternoons together lounging around the
parvaz
field.

“
What
was happening all over again?” Wylie asked, but again no one answered. She was starting to feel like she was trapped in a zombie horror movie and she was the only one who hadn't been infected with a flesh-eating virus. “Can anyone hear me? Am I invisible?”

“Wylie, that's enough,” Joshua said from the back of the room. He stormed over, grabbed her by the arm, and dragged her toward the exit.

“Let go of me!” Wylie said, doing her best to squirm out of his grip.

“Do what she says,” Phinn spoke up, and Joshua instantly let go.

“Wylie has every right to be upset right now,” Phinn said. “Stacy is referring to the lost kids.”

“The lost kids? What do you mean?”

“Six months ago, some of our residents went missing. We call them the lost kids.”

Never forget to live life to the fullest. Do it for the troubled; do it for the lost. The days may feel shorter; the nights may feel long. But when we remember, our memories grow strong
.

The poem wasn't about those left behind on the mainland, Wylie realized; it was about kids who'd gone missing from the island.

“How did they go missing?”

“They wanted to camp out one night, but the next morning, they didn't come back. We searched the entire island for them, but they were gone.”

“How many people?” Wylie asked.

“Twelve.”

“Where did they set up camp?”

“On the Forbidden Side . . . before we knew it was dangerous.”

“Did they go back to the mainland?”

Phinn shook his head. “None of our boats were missing.”

Wylie turned to Joshua. “Did you know about this?”

“Don't be mad at your brother,” Phinn urged. “He wanted to tell you and Micah, but I asked him not to.”

Wylie glanced at Joshua, but he looked away guiltily. The only secret of consequence she'd ever kept from him was the one about their dad's affair, and even then, she'd finally come clean. No job title was worth betraying your siblings for. The entire room shifted uncomfortably as they continued to gape at her.

It reminded Wylie of one sunny afternoon in a downtown Manhattan park. “Keep your voices down,” she'd
begged her parents that day. “People are starting to stare.” They were at her dad's company picnic, and her parents were dangerously close to coming to blows in front of all his colleagues. They were normally skilled at keeping their domestic disputes confined to the privacy of their home, but some comment her dad had made set her mom off and they ended up arguing loudly enough that other people could hear them. Wylie had never felt more embarrassed in her life.
Don't turn into them,
Wylie told herself now. She took a deep breath and turned to Phinn.

“Maybe we should talk in private,” she suggested.

The two of them walked to Phinn's room in relative silence. But once they arrived at his bungalow and the door was closed behind them, Wylie allowed her rage to surface.

“Why didn't you tell us there were kids missing from the island?” she asked.

“No one's gone missing for months. The whole episode is behind us.”

“But there was an explosion on the island tonight!”

“I hate that you had to go through all this on prom night,” Phinn said. “But I won't let anything bad happen to you. I'm just trying to protect you.”

“
From what?”
Wylie screamed, finally at the end of her rope.

“
From everything!”
he yelled back.

Wylie sat on the bed and let her face fall into her hands.

“Can you be more specific?” she asked, her tone quieter now, but no less angry.

“I'm trying to protect you from Hopper. If that means
arming all the guys with weapons and hiding the girls in a basement, then so be it.”

“If he's so dangerous, why did you tell me I didn't need to worry about him?” Wylie asked.

Phinn explained to Wylie that this was a plan they'd always had in place. A drill they had practiced over and over again. If anything went wrong, the girls would hide in the basement and the boys would gather their weapons and fly or run to shore to ward off any possible intruders. So tonight, as the girls huddled beneath the floorboards, the boys had floated into the sky with their weapons aimed at the water's edge. Wylie pictured them still in their tuxedos, an army of James Bonds.

“The explosion was a couple of sticks of dynamite. Just a scare tactic. We didn't notice it till we were halfway up in the air, but there it was, in the sand . . . ‘Hopper Was Here,'” Phinn explained.

Wylie felt a chill go down her spine.

“He was on the island?”

“We think so,” Phinn nodded. “But there was no sign of a boat.”

“Do you think he's responsible for the lost kids?”

Phinn shook his head. “We
know
he was involved. The only thing we found on the Forbidden Side when our friends went missing was the message ‘Hopper Was Here,' written in blood. That's why we never go over there. It could be filled with traps and land mines.”

“Do you think he . . . killed them?” Wylie asked.

“I hope not. He could be holding them hostage. He could
have taken them back to the mainland. We've looked for him everywhere, but we've found nothing. For a few weeks after they disappeared, his calling card would pop up on different parts of the island. Maybe someone has a twisted sense of humor and is just messing with us by writing his name everywhere.”

“Who is this guy?” Wylie demanded. “What kind of person would do this?”

“I met him almost two years ago at a high school in Queens. It was career day, which is always a good resource when you're seeking out new recruits with talents that might be good for the island.”

Hopper and Phinn had struck up a conversation outside the ROTC tent. Hopper admitted to Phinn that the only reason he considered joining the army was that eventually he wanted to be in the CIA. He was a spy junkie. He'd secretly bugged all the classrooms in his high school so he could eavesdrop on his teachers between periods.

“Also,” Hopper told him, “I can skip class and still catch up on what I missed.”

Hopper's talents went beyond surveillance. He lived with a foster family in a rough neighborhood in Queens, so he'd single-handedly created an alarm system for their apartment building. The irony was that when Hopper went missing in the middle of the night, his foster parents assumed his invention had failed them all, but in fact Phinn had convinced him to give up his dreams of being an agent and use his talents of security and surveillance elsewhere.

“The signs were always there. I just ignored them. It
was like having that one person at the party who makes everything a little uncomfortable or weird. He didn't make friends easily; he was aggressive, self-righteous at times. He didn't even make good on his promise to build us any sort of security system. I could tell people were afraid of him. They didn't like to be alone with him. I put up with it for an entire year. I kept thinking something might change, but it never did.

“And then the cutting started. First on his arms, then his legs. When he mutilated his own fingers, I knew there was something very wrong, and that I was only hurting him by keeping him here. Everyone else agreed, so we exiled him. A few months went by without incident, until we think he came back, out for revenge.”

Wylie suddenly remembered Lola's roommate and the bracelet she'd found tucked away into her journal.

“Charlotte? Was she one of the people who went missing?” Wylie asked.

Phinn nodded. “She was . . . is . . . um . . . a really great person.”

The beads of shell carefully strewn across Wylie's dress now felt heavy and confining. They had been meant for a girl who'd disappeared into thin air. No one knew if Charlotte was dead or alive, if she was safe or in danger. And here Wylie had been, prancing around in her outfit, worried that people wouldn't like her cooking.

“Lola told me she'd been exiled,” Wylie managed to say.

“I told her to tell you that. Sometimes it's easier to pretend like nothing's changed, so most of the time, that's
what we do. We thought about cancelling prom this year. It didn't feel right to carry on with traditions when so many of our friends were still missing. But if we lived in fear forever, then Hopper would get exactly what he wanted.”