Page 49 of The Bully's Dare

“Whose boat is this?” Jason asks.

Donovan sits down and, with a flick of his wrist, the match goes out. “Mine.”

“What?”

“It was abandoned on one of the mooring balls. The original owner was a patient at the medical center who took a turn for the worst. The family didn’t want it, so they handed it over to my dad. Dad said if I can patch up the holes and get it back into shape, I can have it.”

“So you’re going to…what. Sail the coast?”

“Maybe.”

“What about college?” Jason asks.

Donovan shrugs. “Scholarship money didn’t come through. So. I’ll just have to try next year.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry, man.”

“It is what it is.”

An uncomfortable silence washes over us. It’s easy to forget that we all come from different worlds. I can take a year off knowing full well that, when I’m ready, Pearl and one of her husbands will take care of all my expenses. Jason doesn’t have to think twice about admission—he’s guaranteed a spot.

Donovan isn’t afforded the same luxuries. It’s a sharp reminder.

“You need a first mate?” I ask, steering the topic away.

There’s a hint of amusement in Donovan’s eyes at that. “Yeah, maybe. You want to spend your gap year here?”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“I’ll think about it,” I say. But my grin stretches too wide across my face and gives me away. I can’t think of anything better than spending the winter with Donovan—no parents, no rules. Just the water and us, doing whatever the hell we want to do.

“What are you going to call her?” Jason asks.

“What do you mean?”

“The boat? She needs a name.”

“I haven’t thought about it.”

I gasp. “That’s all I would think about! Okay. Emergency brainstorm time.”

Donovan suggests: The TARDIS, Muskrat King, and Fuck You I Own A Boat.

Jason suggests: Nightrider, Skipper Syndrome, and Captain Emo.

I give my suggestion, but Donovan furrows his brow. “Dock Boy?” he repeats.

“No, Dock Buoy. B-U-O-Y. It’s a pun.”

They both think about it for a second too long before they burst into laughter. “Yeah,” Jason says. “That’s definitely the winner.”

“So what do you do for fun on a boat with no electricity?” I ask.

Donovan opens up the navigation table and pulls out a deck of cards, tossing it onto the table. “Name the game.”

“Poker,” I say.

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