Never Ever (9 page)

The island was now eerily quiet. She'd assumed everybody partied till the wee hours of the morning, but she
didn't hear any chatter or laughter or music. Maybe aside from the insomniacs, everyone went to sleep at the same time.

Manhattan was an island with a population of well over a million. No matter how late she stayed out, there were always enough people around to make her feel protected. According to Phinn, Minor Island currently had a population of fifty-three, and right now there wasn't a sign of anyone. She had taken her compass with her from the bungalow, even though she knew she wouldn't get lost. It was more than just a gift now, or a tool; it felt like a good-luck charm.

A girl's voice drifted toward her in the dark. As Wylie listened carefully, she realized the girl was reciting the poem from the dining room like a prayer: “‘
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
.'”

“Hello? Is someone out there?” Wylie called out.

She felt a breeze pick up as the girl flew above her, too quickly for Wylie to make out her face. She thought about her parents as she repeated the words of the poem in her head. It seemed that Phinn had written it in honor of the family members and friends who were left behind on the mainland. Wylie squeezed the compass and picked up her pace.

Phinn's bungalow was nearly twice the size of all the other bungalows and easy to spot. The lights were off, but Wylie wouldn't let that deter her. She took a deep breath
and knocked on the door three times. The door swung open, and Phinn stood in front of her, wearing nothing but boxers and a pair of slippers.

“I told you it's not a good idea to spend the night here,” he said groggily.

“I'm not here to spend the night with you.”

Phinn suddenly perked up at the sound of her voice.

“I'm so sorry. I thought you were Tinka. It's a long story. Please, come in.”

Wylie stepped inside the room and heard the crunch of broken glass under her shoes. The ground was covered with clothing, broken picture frames, and other belongings. The dresser drawers were hanging precariously from their hinges.

“I'm not a slob, I promise,” Phinn said. “Tinka likes to throw things when she gets mad. Luckily, her aim is horrible. So, do you have good news for me?”

“Yes. We'd like to stay.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Phinn's eyes twinkled in the dim light as he looked at her. “You made the right choice.” He moved toward her to give her a hug, but Wylie stepped back.

“I didn't come here to celebrate. I came to thank you. You gave my brother the one thing I couldn't: his freedom. And that's why I forgive you for the way you brought us here.”

Phinn breathed a sigh of relief. “That means a lot to me. I won't take it for granted, I promise.”

“You did the wrong thing, but you did it for the right
reasons. I've done that, too. I would be a hypocrite if I couldn't move past it.”

“I appreciate that.”

“It's been a tough year for my family,” Wylie went on, “so I hope living here gives us a clean slate.”

“This is a great place to start over. I hope you and I can do the same.”

Phinn tucked a strand of Wylie's hair behind her ear.

“We can, but only as friends. If nothing happens between us, that has to be okay. I know it might be presumptuous to think you have any other expectations, but I'm not exactly interested in having a boyfriend.”

“I have no expectations, Wylie. I like you. I think that's obvious, but I'll settle for friendship if that's what you want. Deal?”

“Deal,” Wylie answered.

Phinn held out his hand and Wylie reached out to shake it. She suddenly felt her palms sweat as their skin touched.
Friends
, Wylie reminded herself.

“Great, then we both agree,” Wylie said. “We can both be
adults
about this.”

Phinn smiled and let go of her hand. “Bite your tongue, Wylie Dalton.”

home

they
stood at the top of the steps in height order. First Joshua, then Wylie, then Micah, who was still a few inches shy of being taller than his sister. The Clearing was decked out with lanterns, handmade piñatas, and brightly colored
papel picados
. Most of the kids were already dipping their feet in the lagoon or flying right above it, but they were much more dolled-up than when the Daltons had arrived on the island the day before. The same band was playing onstage, but this time the lead singer was singing instead of rapping, her sultry voice echoing off the palm trees. When she finished the song, Phinn stood on the step in front of the Daltons and hollered:

“Ladies and gents, I present the newest residents of Minor Island: Wylie, Joshua, and Micah!”

Wylie had to remind herself not to take a bow or wave like a beauty queen as everyone cheered below them. She
wanted to believe their enthusiasm was sincere and wasn't just some show for Phinn's sake. Most of the residents looked genuinely pleased to have new friends among them, but there were a handful of smiles that looked rehearsed and almost robotic. Except for Tinka. She didn't bother to smile at all.

“You really do this for everybody, right?” Wylie asked Phinn, blushing from all the attention.

“Yup. It's a rite of passage,” he answered. “Every person who's moved here from the mainland has a residency party.” On Phinn's signal, the cheers of the crowd slowly tapered off. He escorted the Daltons down the staircase, where all the residents eagerly waited to meet them.

The entire day felt like a whirlwind. Once morning broke, Wylie and her brothers began the arduous process of settling in. First, they were asked to relinquish their cell phones. They were considered relics of the mainland and didn't work here anyway. Next, they were required to get a blood test and a full physical, followed by a proper fitting by the seamstresses, and then they were assigned to their permanent bungalows.

Aldo and Patrick were the two medics on the island. Despite their young age, they were both whip smart and had a gentle bedside manner. Aldo had come to the island in the eighties, when he was sixteen years old. He seemed more mature and buttoned-up than anyone the Daltons had met so far. Patrick arrived in the nineties, when the island was hit with a flu epidemic and Aldo needed an extra hand.

“I got a guy back on the mainland that gives us a stash
of flu shots now,” Patrick explained. “All I have to do in exchange is give him one
parvaz
flower. It's a pretty awesome trade.”

Patrick had perfectly formed dreadlocks tied into a low ponytail and a tattoo on his arm with the date he'd arrived on the island. Between his style and the casual manner in which he spoke, he was clearly the less conventional of the two.

“Everyone here is young and healthy, so we don't get a lot of patients. Mostly just minor cuts and bruises, things like that,” Aldo assured them.

Unlike most of the other residents, Aldo and Patrick had come from stable home lives. Ultimately, it was their love of medicine that had lured them away from their families. They were both obsessed with cracking the scientific reasons for an island where no one grows up.

“It's still a mystery,” Patrick admitted. “But we'll figure it out someday.”

All three siblings passed their physicals and were next met by Nadia, the head seamstress, who walked them to the boutique to take their measurements.

“We get clothes from the mainland as often as we can, but most of our garments are handmade. We try to keep the designs simple and practical, but everyone still loves to add their own flair,” Nadia explained. “It might take a couple weeks to get your new wardrobes, but we'll give you a rack of loaner clothes you can borrow in the meantime.”

Once all their measurements were properly recorded, Nadia showed them to their new bungalows. The room they'd shared the night before was just a temporary space
reserved for recent recruits or residents whose homes were under construction. Their new dwellings would be more centrally located.

Wylie had to withhold her opinion when they learned Joshua and Micah would be living in one bungalow together. Growing up, the Daltons had always had their own rooms, and sharing a space would be a big adjustment for her brothers. Perhaps down the road they could convince Phinn to bring Abigail to the island, and Joshua would never have to second-guess their decision to move here. Wylie was told she'd be moving into Lola's bungalow, a stone's throw from Phinn's place.

“Are you sure you're cool with me staying here?” Wylie asked Lola when she arrived on her doorstep. “I can always ask to be reassigned if you don't want a roommate.”

“It's fine, really,” Lola replied, pushing her clothes aside to make room in the closet. “I could use the company.”

Wylie wasn't entirely convinced. She felt a sudden tightness in her chest as she thought about all the sleepovers, late-night phone calls, and strolls through Central Park she'd had with Vanessa. Sometimes they got so lost in conversation, they'd miss their stop on the subway and would laugh all the way up the stairs and across the platform to catch the next train headed in the other direction.

“I promise, you won't even know I'm here,” Wylie said to Lola.

“It's nice to have a new girl around,” Lola replied. “A lot of the time I'm stuck with Tinka, because of the whole inner circle thing, but we've never really been close. She calls me bridal all the time behind my back.”

“What does bridal mean?”

“You know, stupid or dumb. Just like the entire custom of getting married. They don't say it on the mainland?”

“Not in the same way you guys use it.”

“Hm. I tried to keep count every time Tinka rolled her eyes at dinner last night, but I lost track. Have you ever seen anyone look so miserable? She
hates
new recruits. I feel bad for her, though,” Lola admitted. “Even though Phinn couldn't be less interested, she's been in love with him for decades. She's never coped well when it comes to other girls.”

“But there's nothing going on between me and Phinn,” Wylie was quick to point out.

Lola put her hand on Wylie's shoulder and looked her straight in the eye.

“That's what the last girl said before Tinka drowned her in the lagoon.”

Wylie's eyes went wide, causing Lola to laugh.

“I'm just kidding. Tinka's harmless. Don't let her get to you.”

“I won't. Thanks for the tip.”

Lola moved the last of her clothes to the other side of the closet. She gestured to the desk next to Wylie's bed. “Those drawers are already empty if you want to throw anything in them.”

Wylie thought of her desk at home, filled to the brim with books and school supplies. She didn't have anything here to put in drawers. None of her jewelry or makeup or the recipes she'd scribbled on note cards would ever
find their way to the island. They were gone forever. Wylie opened the top drawer and discovered heaps of colorful string tangled with friendship bracelets. One had the name “Charlotte” spelled out on it.

“Who's Charlotte?” Wylie asked.

“I forgot those were in there.” Lola hurried to the drawer and tossed the bracelets into a small trash bin.

“Was she someone you knew?” Wylie asked.

“She was my old roommate. She doesn't live here anymore.”

“I thought nobody could go home once they decide to stay.”

“Um, there are some exceptions to the rule,” Lola mumbled. “If everyone hates you, you get voted off.”

“Oh . . .” Wylie said, more than a little nervous about her fate on Minor Island. Tinka could have already turned half the population against her. And what if one of her brothers rubbed people the wrong way? Even back home, Micah was an acquired taste.

“Don't worry. That won't happen to you guys. Charlotte was an odd duck. She's better off on the mainland. What's it like over there?” Lola asked. “I'm the only true native here. I've never been anywhere else.”

“You mean New York?”

“Yeah,” Lola answered wistfully. “The big peach.”

Wylie couldn't help but laugh. “They actually call it the Big Apple.”

“See? I'm such an idiot when it comes to the rest of the world. What else can you tell me?”

“Well, it's really crowded. There's tons of restaurants, parks, museums. There's constant stimulation. It's amazing and overwhelming all at the same time.”

“What's it like to ride in a car?”

Wylie smiled. It was almost like meeting an extraterrestrial.

“It's not that exciting. And plus, they can be dangerous. You guys are lucky you don't have to worry about car accidents here.”

Lola fluffed the pillow on Wylie's bed. “What if you tell me stories about what it's like to grow up on the mainland, and in exchange, I'll let you use the kitchen whenever you want?” she asked, her voice brimming with excitement.

If indulging her new roommate meant making a friend
and
getting access to a woodburning stove, it was more than a fair trade.

“All right. What else do you want to know?”

Lola dug under her mattress and pulled out a tattered journal. “Subways. Are they real? Have you ever been on one?”

“Every single day.”

Wylie described in great detail what it felt like to ride a train, while Lola furiously jotted down notes in her journal. She grinned the entire time, as though her tiny world had finally burst open.

Later that night, the same look of unrestrained joy on Lola's face eased Wylie's nerves as Phinn announced their arrival at the residency party. Amid the sea of unfamiliar faces, Lola gave her a smile that said “You're going to be fine.” Wylie slowly followed Phinn down the stairs and continued to wave to her new social circle.
Please don't vote
me off the island,
she thought with every step toward the Clearing.

“I'll help you make the rounds,” Phinn whispered in her ear. Her neck tingled the moment his breath touched her skin.

“That's okay. I can do it alone.”

Once they reached the bottom of the steps, Micah drifted toward the outskirts of the crowd, barely acknowledging anyone on his way. Wylie watched as he casually approached Tinka. He said something that made her laugh and roll her eyes at the same time, and then she reluctantly handed him a
parvaz
flower and a beer. Joshua was already off and running, shaking hands and committing names to memory. If there were babies here, he'd have kissed all of them.

“You look like a deer in the headlights,” a voice said. Wylie turned to find the lead singer of the band standing next to her. “It reminds me of the way I felt when I first came to the island.”

“It's a little overwhelming,” Wylie admitted. She was much more confident when she was among her own friends.

“Once you get to know everyone, it'll be easier. We're all very protective of Phinn, so we just want to make sure you're worthy of him.”

Wylie considered telling the girl she was still trying to decide if Phinn was worthy of her, but sensed the comment wouldn't go over so well.

“I'm Bailey, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you. You've got an amazing voice. I love your music,” Wylie said.

“Thanks. We call ourselves the Youth Brigade. Phinn came up with the name. He's pretty brilliant, isn't he?”

Bailey explained to Wylie that she had been born in China, but was brought to the States by her adoptive parents. She grew up in a small town in Georgia, where she started singing in her church.

“They were strict and really religious. I couldn't leave the house. I could barely have friends. I met Phinn on a church trip to New York. He was so tropic. He brought me to the island, and I never looked back,” she told Wylie. “That was twenty years ago. He changed my life. I'm grateful every day that I met him.”

She gave Wylie a quick hug, then hopped back onstage to start a new set. The conversation with Bailey was a much-needed warm-up round. Wylie, more relaxed now, moved through the crowd and introduced herself to the residents, one by one. Every now and again, she'd catch Phinn giving her an encouraging smile. Normally, she would have felt smothered by the attention, but right now she was thankful for the support. And she was also glad to see him spending most of the party engaged in deep conversation with Joshua. From what she could gather, it looked like they were finally getting along.

During a rare reprieve from meeting people, Wylie snuck off to the buffet table to try out Lola's cuisine. So far, the purple yam pudding and the spicy crab sausages were her favorite dishes of the night. Most of the kids were enjoying beer brewed right on the island, but Wylie stuck to the nonalcoholic options. There were mocktails made out of fresh-squeezed sugar root and pineapple that
perfectly complemented the food. If it had been up to her, she would have spent the entire party holed up next to the hors d'oeuvres. Instead, she only managed to steal a few bites before getting bombarded with more new faces and introductions.