We meet silence like the friend it is as we stay there for what feels like minutes. Instinctively, I reach to toy with my locket, something that has always managed to bring me peace.
“Look, Gen,” Jackson lifts his leg to sit facing me on the swing, “I understand that last night was a mistake, and I take full responsibility for that, but I want us to be able to enjoy the rest of this trip. Can we please pretend it didn’t happen and just have fun?”
The look of distress in his eyes leaves me with little will not to do exactly what he is asking for.
“Of course.” I force a smile so subtle it barely reads on my lips.
“I can’t say Savannah will give you the same treatment about last night, though.”
The corner of his mouth quirks up as he nods his head toward Savannah, standing in the doorway, doing her best to be subtle. He is just as in tune with her and Wesley’s meddling as I am.
Jackson stands and walks toward Savannah before nodding in my direction. “She’s all yours, Savannah.”
Savannah’s eyes keep on Jackson as he moves inside the house, trying her best at nonchalance before she rushes over to me.
“How did it go?” The urgent nature in her voice makes me acutely aware that she was definitely inside the house waiting for us to finish talking so she could come out here. Lucky for us, the house is built solid, and I know she probably couldn’t hear us without cracking a window.
“It was fine. He was cool about it…” My voice trails off with a distracted inflection. I’m not sure why his cavalier attitude bothers me.
“And you sound disappointed because?”
I can’t find it in me to convince myself Savannah isn’t right. Why am I disappointed? I have had Jackson in this clear-cut box for nearly a decade, and last night the clear lines became blurry for the first time in forever. It felt nice, even if I only admit that to myself.
“I’m not disappointed.”
“Really? Because you look like he killed your cat.”
I instinctively shift my facial expression in an attempt to hide my previous scowl, causing me to laugh instead. “I don’t have a cat.”
“It’s a figure of speech.”
“No, it’s not,” I say as I shake my head.
“Yes, it is!” Savannah chuckles.
“A dumb one.”
“So, what are you guys going to do?” As she pushes her hair behind her ear, I can hear the sincere concern in Savannah’s voice.
“We’re going to enjoy the trip to the best of our abilities.” I sigh. Even saying it out loud sours my stomach. I know it’s what’s best, but as I think back to last night, my face flushes. The thought of his hands on me, his words playing on a loop in my head, I am reminded. Much to my dismay, Savannah notices the shift, her expression perking up.
“As friends.”
Her face falls almost as quickly.
TWELVE
JACKSON
“Wait, why are we going on a picnic?” Savannah looks down at the kitchen island, her face painted in confusion. “I didn’t plan this…”
I’m convinced her head may very well explode.
She isn’t used to not being at the ship’s helm, so the idea of Wes planning anything on his own bewilders her. Wes has been running around and scrambling for hours, long before Savannah came downstairs for the day. His stress level is palpable. There is a variety of cheeses and fruit scattered across the marble countertop, far more than four people need for a day out. He is in a constant state of shifting each food item, trying his best to Tetris everything into the crammed wicker basket.
“Got it!”
Wes throws his hands up in pride as he finally manages to close the lid, the wrappers still poking through the opening.