Page 22 of Stranded

“Then I steal a boat…”

“And the keys?” Alph is obviously trying not to grin.

“A rowboat,” I insist, my cheeks flushing. Alph is barely holding in his laughter, and I’m a tiny bit insulted. “I can steal a rowboat and row to the mainland.”

“We’ll ignore the question of how you get all my valuablestothe rowboat,” Alph says, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Do you know how to row?”

“Fuck.”

I’d definitely end up on the news for getting washed out to the Pacific Ocean while clutching a sixty-inch TV. Alph’s right. I’m not cut out to be a criminal mastermind.

But that still doesn’t explain why I find it hard to trust even the fact thathetrustsme.

“Stick around and I’ll teach you.”

“…To steal TVs?” The words come out of my mouth before I slap my forehead. “Oh, duh. To row.”

Alph stops walking and doubles over with laughter as I blush to my toes. But I won’t lie: it’s worth making an ass of myself to hear that belly laugh.

“Yeah,” he finally manages, and then he clears his throat. “I mean, if you like this place, of course. I don’t want to pressure you.”

“Mmm.” I pretend to give him a suspicious look. “You don’t live in a horror house, do you?”

Alph looks genuinely worried, like he thinks I might actually believe that. He squeezes my shoulder hastily. “No. God, no. It’s not huge, but I keep it up well?—”

“Alph!” I laugh. “I’m teasing.”

“…Oh.” He snorts and rubs his neck sheepishly. “But it’s not just the house. It’s island life. Don’t get me wrong, there’s nowhere like Sunrise, but it’s a lot to get used to.”

Too late. I’ve already decided that I love this place.

I’ve never had such a pretty, moonlit walk home. We’re surrounded by trees, and I can hear the ocean in the distance. We’ve been passing all kinds of houses: romantic cabins with tiny gardens, big glass mansions tucked away at the back of their lots, and everything in between. An eclectic mix, just like the locals at the bar.

I guess you have to be a little bit weird to want to live on an island, and I’ve got more than enough weirdness to qualify.

It’s an artist’s dream.

“I mean, I’ll see how I feel in the morning,” I shrug. “But I think this is exactly what I need. If I’m going to have any chance of pulling this off… I need all the creative inspiration I can get.”

Alph swivels his head to blink owlishly at me. “Pulling what off?”

Great.NowI remember that I told him about my roommates… but not the ultimatum.

“Okay,” I sigh. “Just promise you won’t judge me.”

Alph squeezes me around the shoulders. “I promise.”

Damn it… I believe him.

Chapter

Nine

RONAN

All week,I’ve been simmering with guilt—and more than a little shame.

It’s hard to look at Alph while I talk. I remember the look of admiration he gave me at the bar when I told him about my degree, and… I don’t want to see it in his face, if I lose his respect now.

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