The Island Curse

Homesick

The soreness after the fall at the beach had nothing on the pain in my legs when I woke up Saturday morning. Every attempt to unfurl from the fetal position I'd slept in all night ended in a scream as muscles seized, and the soles of my feet throbbed as if they had a heartbeat.

"I'm never going to be able to walk again." I rolled to my back and sat up, drawing my knees to my chest. That took less effort, though it made other pains known. I pushed the tall sock down my leg, wincing as it caught on busted blisters and dried blood as I tugged it off. I repeated the process and nearly cried when the full scope of the damage I'd inflicted came into view.

The spiral staircase in the center of the room mocked me. Something whispered that the waters in the pool would clear this up, but there was no way I could make it up the stairs, not unless someone carried me. And there was no way I was initiating that conversation with my father.

A soft knock sounded on my door, and I scrambled to pull the covers over my pitiful feet. "Come in."

"Hey pumpkin, yer up earlier than I'd expect for how late you got home."

"I'm up earlier than I'd expect even if I'd gone to bed at eight."

He chuckled. "Right you are. I thought you were spending the night with yer friend, Tara?"

"Oh, yeah. She ended up not feeling well after the party, and I really didn't want to stick around and catch whatever it was."

Dad sat on my bed, a box in his hand. I strained to see the words, but his thumb was in the way. "You sure it was catching or something she ate? Or drank?"

"Is that your way of asking if there was drinking at the party?"

"Yes."

"Yes, there was drinking at the party. The legal age is eighteen here, you know that, and to answer your next question: no, I didn't drink anything."

"Yer almost seventeen. I wouldn't be that mad if you had, honestly. Most of these kids have been having a nip with their dinner for years now, but I'm glad you didn't. At least not until you trust everyone yer hanging out with."

Trust. If you only knew. "Thanks Dad. You know I'll use good judgment. What do you have there?" He handed me the box. "A phone? Oh my gosh. I'm going to be part of the twenty-first century again!"

"I was going to wait until this afternoon, but I found myself needing one yesterday. If you don't like it, don't open it. But it's the newest model so I figured you'd be content."

"Dad, I'd take a flip phone at this point." As long as I could call someone next time I was possessed by the urge to be an utter idiot and go for a predawn marathon across the Island. Alone.

He reached across and ruffled my hair like he used to do when I was a kid. A softness filled his face as he studied me, his hand cupping my cheek. I put mine on his and leaned into it. How I'd missed this closeness with my father, and I knew then and there that this was our truce. Our moment of putting all the hurt from the last few weeks behind us.

"That's some eye makeup you've got there," he fussed, his voice gruff as he took his hand away.

"Tara is responsible," I said, powering up the phone. "You know I would've walked out the door with mascara and lip gloss."

"Well, yer just like yer mother. A natural beauty. Don't go using that stuff if you don't need it."

That was the first time he'd mentioned her without me bringing it up. "Dad, I miss her."

"I know you do. Me too." He scrubbed at something that looked suspiciously like a tear. "Now, what are you up to today?"

"Think I may get some studying done. Finish my room." I thought about my feet. Nothing that involved moving from the bed anytime soon.

"Alright, well I've taped my number to the box. Program that into yer phone. I'm going to be running errands today. Molly'll be by later to to drop off dinner for tonight."

"Sure thing."

He left the room, and I fell back into my pillows while I downloaded all of my favorite apps and logged into my social media accounts. Notifications flooded my phone. Most of them were nonsense: for sale items, comments in groups I'm a part of, status updates- but the messages in my inbox made my heart leap.

Isla! Why haven't I heard from you yet? You promised you'd let me know as soon as you arrived on the island.

Mel. Oh, how I missed that girl. Even more so after the events of last night. She would've walked by my side through the night, her hand tight in mine, her chin lifted to beat away the fear even though I would be able to feel her tremors through her grip. I'd taken such a friendship for granted back in Mississippi- she was always there, a rock. But here, I was adrift in a sea of unfamiliar loyalties- nothing more than a pawn in games that began long before I arrived.

My fingers flew over the buttons, the sharp clicks of the haptic keyboard the only sound in my cavernous room.

I'm so sorry!!!!! I just got a new phone- can you imagine, an entire week without a cellphone? *shudders. Can you ever forgive me?

I hit send and drop the phone in my lap. There were other messages- some from people who were close friends, one from Landon the boy I would've dated if I'd stayed in Mississippi. I was curious to see what they had to say but not enough to open the messages. Where Mel's name on my screen was healing, theirs made me feel like I was picking at half healed wounds. There was not enough connection between us to maintain the long distance relationship. For Mel, I would fight.

Three dots appeared on the screen. They bounced and wavered until new text spilled onto the page.

OMG. That's inhumane. Stealing you away to a foreign country is one thing, depriving you of modern technology is reprehensible. Do you like my big word of the day? Mrs. Green is making us expand our vocaabbuuulary.

I giggled at the way she drew out the last word. Mrs. Green was the English and Theater teacher. I could hear the trill of her voice in the typed word. She never failed to remind her students that she possessed a hefty vocabulary and a flair for dramatics.

Anyways... I miss you. It's not the same here. My parents said I could come visit- maybe at Christmas? But when we try to find flights to the island, nothing comes up. You sure it really exists?

I didn't make the plans to get here, but I knew we'd flown into a larger island nearby. I doubted Merrow Island had an airport of any kind; otherwise, we would've skipped the ferry ride.

I think you'll have to fly into Littleton and then take the ferry here, but let me check. Rumor has it the ferry will stop running soon.

Three dots.

What? The only way to get on or off your island is a boat? Le sigh- just let me know. I want that plane ticket on lock down before the parental units come to their senses.

That statement earned an eye roll. Mel was wealthy. She could come come visit once a month, and it wouldn't be a blip on her parent's bank account.

Will do! I need my friend.

I tossed the phone to the side instead of waiting for another response. It was making me homesick, and as much as the possibility of her visiting excited me, there was also a stirring of dread in my stomach. Something that told me she wouldn't be welcome here.