Page 7 of On The Beach

"As you said, he's a wrestler, and I don't want trouble with thepoh-leese.” Franco smirked and then looked at our passenger with concern. "You think we should help her? She looks like—oh, there she goes again."

We all watched as Belle leaned over and threw up some more.

"You know, I used to have a rule—if a girl throws up around me, it's a no-go forever," Franco stated. "But she could be the exception to that rule."

Cato and I raised our eyebrows. We lived on a cheap party island, after all, where throwing up was practically a rite of passage.

Belle wobbled toward us, clutching her stomach. "I think I'm feeling better now," she announced.

I patted the empty folding chair next to me. "Have a seat, Babycakes." I reached into the cooler beside me, pulled out a can of beer, and handed it to her.

"I just finished throwing up." She eyed the beer withskepticism and sighed as she set her ass on the chair. "I don't think I should drink anymore."

"Hair of the Dog," Cato declared. "You fight evil with evil."

Belle hesitated for a moment, then shrugged and cracked open the can. She took a long sip. "Not bad."

We all sat in silence for a while, lines in the water. The fish weren't biting, probably because Belle had been throwing up her fries and Coke.

Cato smoked a cigar, Franco puffed on a cigarette, and I nursed my beer, as did Belle.

"Is this what you do all day?" Belle asked, breaking the quiet.

"Pretty much," Cato remarked.

"I sometimes work," Franco interjected. "You know…my big-time radio gig."

"I'm here or sleeping or at the Coral Cove," I told her.

Belle tilted her head. "I don't mean to be rude, but how do you pay your bills?"

"With money," Cato replied unhelpfully.

"Yeah, money's good," Franco agreed.

"Thisismy job—RiRi pays me handsomely," I lied. RiRi didn't pay much, but she let me do whatever the fuck I wanted, so it was a fair deal.

"I wish I could do nothing," Belle said wistfully. "I…work…all the time."

"What do you do?" Franco asked.

"I'm a scientist," she told us. "I work on finding cures for diseases. Not by myself, of course. There's a team, and we all play a part."

"You cure anything we've heard of?" Franco asked with genuine curiosity.

"Ah…well, my team and I developed the cell and gene therapy to mitigate the effects of Epidermolysis Bullosa."

"Epi-what?" Cato frowned.

"Epidermolysis Bullosa," Belle explained patiently, "is a group of rare genetic skin disorders where the skin and mucous membranes are extremely fragile, causing painful blistering and wounds even with minor friction or trauma."

"And how'd you cure that?" Franco asked, curious.

Belle smiled. "EB is caused by genetic mutations. We used gene editing—specifically, CRISPR-Cas9—to correct the faulty gene responsible for the skin's fragility."

Cato and Franco looked at her like she'd just performed magic. I actuallyknewshe had. Gene therapy wasn't easy.

"Wow. I know you spoke in English and all, but I got no idea what you just said," Franco admitted. "Sounds super cool, though."

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