Page 87 of On The Beach

The weight of it settled heavily on my shoulders. I could almost hear the disappointment of my team back in Cambridge and felt the unspoken questions from the families who had put their faith—and their children's futures—into our hands. I felt as if I'd let them down, and all I could do was sit in Mick's quiet hut, staring blankly at the weathered wooden walls, the sound of the waves a distant reminder of how far I was from the answers they needed.

In the past, this would be when I'd hole up in the lab and push, push, push to do better, more, just anything. In Reef Harbor, I relied on alcohol.

Mick and Cato were out with tourists, Franco was actually working at his radio station, and RiRi was away as well to pick up supplies, so I wasalone,and I felt lonely without the friends I'd gotten used to having around.

"You okay there, girlie?" Toothless Nick asked me.

"Nah, I'm not okay," I told him.

"I can make you feel better, girlie," he offered lecherously.

I laughed. "Maybe another time, Nick."

With the taste of three rum cocktails coating my mouth, I decided I needed something stronger. Something…cathartic. By the time I staggered out of the Coral Cove, the warm island evening swirling around me, I was a few drinks past responsible, and my brain was stuck on one singular, ridiculous mission:blow off steam.

I wasn't sure how, exactly, but my mission led me to the lizard racing alley. A long, sand-carved racetrack stretched ahead, and palm trees threw shadows under the glow ofoverhead lights while a small crowd of locals and tourists cheered as the tiny, absurd reptiles scurried toward the finish line.

"I'll bet on…that one," I slurred, pointing a finger toward the least coordinated lizard, who seemed more interested in staring into the distance than moving.

Rico, who managed the races, chuckled as he watched my dedication. "The green one with the limp? That's your pick?"

"Absolutely," I said, slurring just a little, waving a handful of crumpled bills.

"He's called Stump, and he'sneverwonanythingever," Rico warned me.

"Winner right here, I'm telling you," I assured him.

The lizard, however, had other plans. After a few uninspired inches forward, it curled up like it was ready for a cozy nap. Apparently, it wasn't as invested in this race as I was.

"Come on!" I yelled, crawling down to give it a tiny nudge. "I bet on you! You're supposed to be a champion!"

But just as I leaned forward, encouraging my sleepy champion, a bellow erupted from across the race alley.

"She's cheating," a bearded guy in a floral shirt bellowed.

"Who's cheating?" Rico demanded.

Floral shirt pointed at me.

I tried to look innocent when someone shoved the man beside me (it could've been me, but who knew how these things happened), sending his drink flying and splashing me and half the spectators around us.

A loud argument broke out, both men turning on each other as they gestured wildly at the lizards, each claiming their pick had been sabotaged.

Before I knew it, the whole crowd around me devolved into a mess of yelling and shoving. I tried to step back, but someone elbowed me forward, knocking me right back into the fray.

"Hey! I'm just here to cheer on my lizard!" I shouted,ducking as one of the men swung his arm toward his opponent. A few spectators tried to pull them apart, but someone else tripped and crashed into the line of makeshift lizard stalls, sending a few tiny racers scrambling. It was complete chaos, and I was right in the middle of it, still clutching my drink.

That's when the flashlight beam cut through the crowd, and I looked up to see the last person I wanted to meet in a brawl: Chief Ray Jenkins. The bane of Mick's existence and the inevitable shadow over every bit of mischief I found myself in on this island.

Jenkins fixed his scowl right on me, his voice booming over the ruckus. "What's going on here?"

"She cheated," Floral Shirt yelled. He now had a black eye. Tattler!

"Did not," I replied.

"And then she pushed me," a guy who I didn't recognize screeched. He was on the floor, drenched in booze.

"Did not," I repeated. I looked at Ray. "Where's the proof?" I hiccupped.

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