Page 8 of Leave Before I Love You
The girl I fear, with great disappointment, is about to be evicted, making way for a bootleg GI Jane, survivalist-in-training, starring in my own unwanted episode ofNaked and Afraid: Deluxe Disaster Edition.
Henry
A fire crackles on the beach as Avery sits stiffly beside it, her clothes laid out like expensive roadkill on the sand to dry. She’s in one of the bikinis from her miraculously useful waist pack—a state of undress I’ve seen her in more times than I can count—but safe to say, this is as far from a choreographed champagne spray at one of her parents’ famous pool parties as it gets.
Avery and Beau grew up with the world as their oyster, and there’s nothing their parents, Neil and Diane, wouldn’t do for them. They’ve been to private school, the University of Miami, and even now, at twenty-seven, Avery still lives off Neil’s money.
Beau works hard for his dad at his marketing firm, Banks & McKenzie—though the McKenzie half sold out to Neil about three years ago after a huge scandal broke out about Chris McKenzie at Beau and Juniper’s wedding and forced him to lose half his net worth in his subsequent divorce—but Avery flies by the seat of her pants, the life of her own little party.
She’s never met a responsibility she couldn’t charm her way out of. Technically, she works at Banks & McKenzie, but according to Beau, if she actually shows up to the office, they might as well call it a holiday and give everyone the day off.
Tonight, though, in the aftermath of arriving on this tiny,uninhabited island, she’s different. Her demeanor is much more closed off than usual, and her shoulders, normally proud and cocky, are curled forward in duress. She looks small. She looksfragile.Things I never thought would ever be associated with the larger-than-life party girl Avery Banks.
After her hysterical breakdown about her phone, and a brief scream-fest a couple hours ago, she’s been largely silent as I work to get us set up for the night. Some people might be upset at her lack of help, but honestly, I don’t mind. I know none of this is in her wheelhouse, and beyond that, I have a persistent feeling that she’s a millisecond away from a full-on breakdown at any moment.
Avery Banks is beautiful, smart, and incredibly, painfully sheltered. She doesn’t know the worth of earning your own dime, she works only when she deigns to, and she takes little to no personal responsibility for her life at any given time. She breezes from one moment to the next, collecting men like accessories—though, evidently, she’s not actually sleeping with them, which is a whole other bombshell for another time—and she literally parties her way through life, never missing a club opening or VIP night supplied by one of her friends.
At thirty-two, and five years older than her, I’m no straight arrow myself, but as a self-certified adrenaline junkie with a sordid family structure that dwindled to zero when my dad died a few months ago, I’mfarmore prepared for turmoil.
Avery needs time. And that’s okay. I don’t mind giving it to her.
I’ve been plenty occupied with my own stuff and the very real need to figure out how the fuck we’re going to, you know,survive.
After a quick survey of what tools I had in my pack, I got to work scouting the island.
From the air, it looked like a vacation postcard. From the ground? It’s a deserted hellscape. And from what I’ve covered on foot so far, it’s a desolate, rough terrain, with beaches on both the south and north sides. There’s a pretty steep hill in the center, and a ridgetop with what I’m sure will be an advantageous viewpointeventually, but there’s very little edible vegetation or things of obvious use.
Fire? Handled it. Thank God I always carry a flint.
Shelter? Slapped together a temporary hut with palm fronds, loose sea grape leaves, and sheer willpower.
Water? That’s the real problem. I’ll have to reconfigure the sea grape leaves to collect rain, but for now, I’ve got what’s left in my hydration pack. Normally, I carry one when I jump. After today, I’llalwayscarry two.
I finish tying down the last section of the shelter and head back to the fire, dropping into the sand catty-corner from Avery. Close enough to read her mood, but still far enough to give her space.
“We’re all set for tonight,” I declare, leaning back into the sand with my hands and letting the heat from the flames lick my grimy skin. “It’s not exactly the Four Seasons, but it’ll keep us out of the weather if we get any.”
Avery nods, tucking her knees to her chest, her voice so small it almost gets swallowed by the crackling fire. “Thank you.”
I nod. “Of course.”
Then,silence.The kind that crawls under your skin. The kind that is thick and suffocating and makes you feel desperate to end it with something…anything.
Fuck, we need a distraction—badly.And since Avery still appears as if she’s in the middle of an existential crisis, it looks like I’m up.
“Did I ever tell you about the time Beau pissed his pants in a McDonald’s parking lot?”
“What?” Her gaze jerks to mine, her pretty hazel eyes a haze of warring emotion and her cheeks pink with stress.
“Yep. He did.” I laugh, remembering what is probably Beau’s worst nightmare and one of my favorite memories. “We were there one night, getting a bite to eat after the club, fresh out of U of M at this point, and a cop came to the window just as Beau was getting ready to go inside and break the seal from the entire night.” I grin ather and keep going. “The cop had questions because I guess some kids had been seen littering and breaking shit in the parking lot the last couple nights, and he wanted to make sure it wasn’t us. Ron was driving and DD, so there was no danger of DUI or anything crazy like that, but the more we answered, the more questions the cop had, and every time Beau tried to make a move to go to the bathroom, the cop panicked and started yelling at him. This went on for like fifteen minutes, and eventually, Beau couldn’t hold it anymore and ended up fucking pissing his Bottega Veneta slacks for all, including the cop, to see.”
“Oh my God!” Avery squeals, her face relaxing into its normal state for the briefest of moments as she slaps her hands into the sand beside her thighs. “I can’t believe I’ve never heard that before!”
“Yeah. Well.” I snort. “We were sworn to secrecy under the threat of certain death, but given the circumstances…” I shrug. “It feels like we deserve to tell a few secrets.”
Her eyes dance as she nods, her teeth gnawing at her lip in concentration. “Okay. I definitely have some Beau secrets.”
Maybe I should feel bad for making my best friend the target of all thesefun memories, but knowing he’s probably curled up in a dry, warm bed with his pregnant wife while we’re damp and half damaged on some beach in the middle of fucking nowhere has run my well of sympathy dry. Plus, he wouldn’t mind. Beau Banks is as fucking stand-up, self-sacrificing, team-player as it gets.
