Page 35 of That Island Feeling

‘You’re just going to leave me here?’ she squeaks.

I raise a finger to my lips. ‘Shh, this isn’t exactly a sanctioned ice heist. I’ll be right back. Before Freddy Krueger comes for you, at least.’

When I emerge with the bag of ice – possibly the last one on the island – Andie’s body visibly relaxes as she spots me walking back to her, and my stomach somersaults. I remind myself she’s just relieved because I don’t have knives for fingers.

A plan takes shape in my mind.

‘Hey, want to go scare the boys?’ I greet her.

Something about the way her face lights up in wicked glee fills me with incredible pride.

‘I’ll assume that’s a rhetorical question.’

Chapter Seventeen

ANDIE

We’re giggling as we creep down the side of Keith’s place. Jack has the bag of ice thrown over his shoulder like the Grinch’s sack of stolen toys.

‘What do you think they’re doing in there?’ I hiss as we duck to pass under the window.

‘I’m not sure,’ Jack whispers. ‘But aren’t they in their natural environment anyway?’

‘Huh?’

‘Primitive humans in their dark cave?’

I clamp a hand over my mouth to stop a bark of laughter from bursting out as another screw in my body loosens.

I admit, I was eager to get out of the house and away from the girls for a minute, but I wasn’t expecting our outing to be so eventful – so enjoyable. Jack’s whole ‘not a care in the world’ schtick is contagious. It’s addictive to be around.

We stand perfectly still under the window, our bodies pressed against the cold concrete. As Jack touches his finger to his lips, a fuzzy memory surfaces. Toby and I are playing hide-and-seek, waiting for our parents to get home. Six-year-old Toby has clambered under a table and I’m telling him to hush his squealing as a key jangles in the lock.

‘On the count of three,’ Jack’s whispers interrupt my thoughts. ‘One, two, three!’

He lets out a loud, menacing growl and I follow suit. My tone is higher and scratchier, so our voices meet in perfect, discordant harmony, like a tree branch scraping against glass.

Our eyes are laughing, but our vocal cords continue to make the most abhorrent noises, over and over, until we hear high-pitched screams from inside, and fall silent.

Seconds later, the front door creaks open. ‘Hello?’

The voice sounds like Garth’s, though it could be Ben’s? Typical Richie – leaving one of the other boys to do the dirty work.

We freeze in place. The silence is filled only by my pounding heart. I almost forget to breathe until I see a shit-eating grin strung across Jack’s face. Relief rolls through me, and I rock on my heels as my whole body goes slack.

His hand finds my arm. I think his intention is to keep me still, but his touch only makes me jittery.

‘Hello?’ Someone calls again.

Jack retreats closer to the wall, drawing me against him. He feels solid and secure.

‘There’s no one out here.’ The front door clicks shut.

‘I’m going to grab something from the shed,’ Jack whispers, his breath warm on my face. ‘Stay here.’ He doesn’t wait for my reply before he turns and disappears into the darkness towards the rear of the house.

Surely I should be panicking like just before at Clam Cove, but my heart is beating a steady march in my chest.

I wait for a few minutes, the wind howling behind me, before Jack reappears with what looks like a leaf blower in his hands.

---