Author's Notes: This is a fan novelization of Endless Summer, featuring my female MC, Alodia. The story is basically the Endless Summer you know and love, but certain scenes are expanded, condensed, or moved around to better suit the narrative as it applies to the main character as I played her. You will also stumble across scenes that never happened in the original story, but which added characterization, or addressed things that bothered me when I played the game myself.

If you take issue with any of this, please turn back now. Otherwise, settle in, enjoy, and don't forget to review. I love reviews.

ACT I: LA HUERTA

Chapter One

Welcome to Paradise

A dense, steaming jungle surrounds me, foliage so thick that I can barely see the sky through the breaks between the leaves. There is a ruggedly handsome man beside me with sandy-brown hair that falls into bright blue eyes and action-hero stubble shadowing his jaw. Around his neck he wears military dog tags.

"Get down!" he shouts. "It's coming this way!" His arms snap shut around me like a vise and he pulls me down into the brush. I sink into the pile of leaves and branches without being scratched. They claim me and take me in easy as brightly-colored plastic balls in an inflatable ball pit.

And suddenly the jungle is gone, replaced by a cold, gray concrete warehouse. The rugged action-hero has been replaced by another unbelievably handsome man. This one is a statuesque Adonis with mocha-colored skin who reaches for me with desperation in his shining dark eyes.

"Alodia! Give me your hand!"

Then he, too, disappears, and now I am standing at the edge of a volcano, staring into ruby-red magma that bubbles and spits like the brew in a witches' cauldron. A middle-aged man in a brown suit and tie looks at me from the other side of the volcano's mouth, his goateed lips curled into a serpentine smile.

"You don't understand, do you." Somehow, I can hear him perfectly from across the volcano's gaping maw, though he barely speaks above a whisper. "Of course not. But you will. In time."

...Something suddenly pushes hard at me from the side and I snap awake, gasping, my heart knocking violently against my ribs. Sunlight pours in from the window beside my airplane seat, making my eyes water. I blink the spots out of my vision and scrub at my eyes with clammy, trembling fingertips. I turn away from the window to find a familiar face on the other side. Diego Ortiz Soto, my best friend since we were both in diapers, looks back at me, a goofy smirk on his handsome, boyish face.

"Morning, sleepyhead."

At the sight of him, my heart begins to slow its frantic rhythm. I smile back.

"I'm not still dreaming, right?"

"Doesn't feel real, does it. But it is. We're finally on our way."

He's right that it doesn't feel real. When representatives of Rourke International appeared on the campus of Hartfeld University in Massachusetts ten months ago to announce their contest, I nearly ignored them entirely. The grand prize was a week-long, all-expenses paid vacation at The Celestial, a luxury resort on the Caribbean island of La Huerta. There were only ten available spots, and at least half the campus was entering. Diego was the one who convinced me to put my name in. What could it hurt, he reasoned. It wasn't as if I'd be any worse off if I didn't win. So, I entered and promptly forgot about it. Then, six months ago, Diego offered to fetch my mail for me one day when I was laid up with bronchitis. He returned to our campus apartment in record time, shrieking and waving two yellow envelopes at me, bearing the logo of Rourke International.

Now, I cast my eyes around the small plane that bears us and the rest of the winners to our destination. I don't know any of them except for Diego. Well, I briefly met Raj at the airport in Costa Rica. He's a big guy with an even bigger personality. A massive mountain of a man, he would be impressively large even without the Buddha belly, over which is currently stretched a well-worn T-shirt reading "Freshly Baked." He has a warm, easy smile, and as my ears begin to pick out snippets of conversation, I hear him laugh about being too deep in debt to afford instant ramen.

His comment is met with a snicker from the beefy Asian kid in the Hartfeld letterman jacket that sits beside him, ...I think that one's name might be Craig. And not far from them is Grace, whom I also met at the airport. She's a mousy girl with dark chocolate skin, curly hair cut just above her shoulders and bright, eager eyes shining behind her glasses.

"Hey! Earth to Allie!" Diego waves a hand in fronts of my eyes and brings me back to the present. "You all right? Bad dream?"

My hand has drifted up to massage my brow. I feel a slight headache building behind my eyes. I sigh and force my hand back to my lap.

"Not bad. Just weird. I dreamt about..." I suddenly sit up straighter, my eyes going wide. "About him!"

I point to the lavatory, out of which has just walked the mocha-skinned adonis from my dream. Diego follows my gaze.

"You dreamt about Sean Gayle?" Before I can stop him, he has shuffled me out of my seat and is pushing me towards the aisle. "Well, what are you waiting for? Go talk to him!"

I stumble out into the aisle, and collide with Sean Gayle. He looks down at me with the same shining brown eyes from my dream. Except without any of the fear and desperation. He smiles down at me, a perfect movie star smile, and I feel my belly flutter.

"Well, hello there," he says in a baritone voice that ought to come with a warning label.

Diego pops up over my shoulder. "My friend Alodia here wants to say something."

Sean raises an eyebrow at me. I arrange my features into a coquettish smile. In spite of my mouth suddenly feeling dry, I manage to say in what sounds to me like a sufficiently sexy purr, "Ever wanted to hook up on an airplane?"

Sean laughs. "You know, it's on my bucket list..."

"Oh, yeah?"

"But unfortunately, I might've missed my chance this time. I think we're landing soon."

"What a shame. I'll have to ask you sooner on the flight home."

"I hope you do," he says, winking at me as he slips by.

The moment Sean's taken his seat, Diego cracks up. He collapses into his seat, his cell phone in hand.

"Oh, man, got that whole thing on video! You gotta see your face!"

I snatch the phone out of his hand and lightly noogie him. "You troll! No cell phones on airplanes! And no more shoving me at hotties!"

He grins. "Fine, I'll turn off my cell phone if you give it back to me. But no promises about shoving you at hotties."

I drop the cell phone in his lap. "You're lucky you're adorable. Because as a wingman, you kinda suck."

"Aww, you love me." He picks up the phone and frowns. "Huh. Is it really 5:15 already? We should have landed by now. ...But I didn't think you were snoring that long."

"Hilarious. I'll go check with the pilot, see if something's up."

I scoot out of the row of seats, and make my way up the aisle towards the curtain that separates the cabin from the cockpit. As I pass by, a voice rises above the chatter.

"Excuse me!" a young man with an upperclass English accent snaps. "Will all of you please cease your babbling?! The tour guide is trying to speak!"

Our tour guide is Lila. A slight pixie of a 20-something woman with smooth doe-brown skin, and silky brown hair cropped close to her neck and framing an eager, pretty face. She is bubbly, energetic, and endlessly enthusiastic. She would have made a great cheerleader when she was in school. Now, she wears a yellow Rourke International polo tucked into khaki shorts, and the tops of her perfectly white crew socks are folded down neatly and tucked under the tongues of her hiking boots. Damned if it doesn't look like the outfit she was born to wear. All she's missing right now is the baseball cap and fanny pack.

Lila claps her hands, smiling at the English kid. "Thank you, Aleister. As your tour guide for the week, I just want to say that we should all try to...you know, be friends. It is an island, after all, so you're kinda stuck with each other!"

Lila giggles at her own joke. As I pass by, I notice a girl with an eyebrow piercing and black hair in a purple-streaked undercut sinking further into her seat.

"Is it too late to jump out of the plane?" she mutters, loud enough to be heard, but apparently not interested in whether anyone does hear.

I push through the curtain into the cockpit. The pilot is lounging in his chair, combat boots up on the control panel in front of him.

"Excuse me. ...It's Jake, right? Weren't we supposed to have landed by now...?" An unintelligable series of grunts floats up from the chair, followed by a snort. "...Wait...are you asleep?!"

I grab the pilot's shoulder and shake him, my annoyance expressed in the force of my grip. He starts awake, and my grip suddenly slackens. I retreat a few steps, feeling ice trickle down from the top of my head.

I know the pilot's face. The action hero with the military dog tags from the jungle in my dreams has pinned his bright blue gaze on me.

"Listen, Princess," he drawls in a Southern accent. "Don'tcha know it's rude to wake someone while they're napping?"

I raise an eyebrow. " 'Princess'?"

He shrugs. "What can I say. I give nicknames to people who annoy me."

"In that case, I'm gonna have to call you Top Gun."

Jake blinks at me, an almost imperceptible smile on his face. "Top Gun?" He shakes his head and resets his features to register indignation. "Hang on, you can't be giving nicknames. That's my thing."

"I dunno. I like it. Might keep doing it."

He lets out a short bark of laughter. "You ain't clever enough to keep 'em coming. Takes work to be as good as me."

"Whatever, Top Gun. Back to my question."

Jake swings his chair back towards his instrument panel. "Relax. We ain't landing 'til..." He trails off, frowning. "...The hell...? That time ain't right. ...And that ain't right, either..."

He gives the instrument panel a few pounds with the side of his fist. I roll my eyes.

"What are you, the Fonz?" He ignores me. "...Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"If you knew half the things I've survived, you'd bet on me to get you through anyth-"

A sudden wave of turbulence crashes into the plane. I connect hard with the wall of the cockpit, air rushing out of my lungs with an inelegant croak. Jake picks himself off the floor and drags himself back into the chair.

"Dammit...this stormfront's moving in fast." He grabs the yoke. "Get your ass in a seat, hear? And tell everybody to buckle up."

"But what-"

"Now, Princess!"

His voice brooks no argument. I stumble back towards the cabin as air currents hammer the plane, tossing it from side to side. Through the windows, I see dark clouds closing in over us like a blanket. A particularly strong wave knocks me off my feet and onto the floor of the aisle.

"Ohhh, I am really regretting that airport Chipotle!" Raj groans.

"Don't puke, bro!" Craig yells. "If you puke, I'm gonna puke!"

"Where the hell did this storm come from?!" a girl shouts from behind them. "It was a clear day!"

"It happens, okay?" Jake calls from the cockpit. "This is totally normal!"

The girl with the undercut stares out the window. "Yeah. Sure. THAT looks normal."

As I drag myself to my feet, clutching the back of the seat for support, I see what has her attention. Yellow-orange balls of electricity exploding in the sky, lightning arching off of them like veins.

"It looks like ball lightning," Grace says. "But I've never seen anything quite like this."

Aleister grasps fistfuls of his pale hair, shaking his head frantically. "No, this isn't right! I can't die here, surrounded by these morons!"

"Everyone, just breathe!" Sean shouts. "We're going to get through this!"

A deafening crack of thunder rips through the sky and echoes through the cabin. I turn back in time to see sparks fly in the cockpit.

"Engines just lost power!" Jake shouts. "I'm bringing 'er down manually. Everyone hang on!"

My classmates are panicking around me now, screaming. All but one. In the back row, I catch sight of a girl in a pale blue hoodie, her dark hair pulled into a tight ponytail, sitting quietly in her seat, her body effortlessly rocking in tandem with the motion of the plane. As she turns her face slightly towards me, I catch sight of a long scar over her right eye.

"Alodia!" Lila's voice snaps me back to the present. "Safety first! Please find a seat!"

Not that I have much choice. The next hammer of air sends me tumbling into an empty seat. I hastily fasten my seatbelt, and turn to see who I've landed beside.

A pale beauty with long copper hair clutches the armrests with a white-knuckled grip. Crystal blue eyes are fixed stubbornly on the seat back in front of her. Her breath comes out through clenched teeth.

"Just breathe," I tell her. "It will pass."

"This can't happen," she gasps between shallow, labored breaths. "Not yet. It's too soon..."

"Hey...why couldn't the melons get married?"

She looks at me with confusion. "...What?"

I grin. "Because they cantaloupe."

For a moment, she just stares at me. Then a smile starts to play around her mouth. "...Because they...can't elope? That is the dumbest joke I've ever heard!" But it starts her laughing, and her laughter is musical.

"Are you positively mad?!" Aleister snaps. "This isn't the time for jokes!"

"No," she says. "It's the perfect time for jokes."

She smiles sweetly at me and holds out her hand. I take it and give it a squeeze. "I'm Alodia, by the way."

"Quinn."

"Just a little further!" Jake's voice comes from the cockpit. "We're almost out!"

Bright orange light floods the cabin from the lighting outside, and for a moment, I'm blinded. But when the spots clear from my vision, I see the plane surrounded by clear blue sky.

"Woohoo! We're alive!" Raj crows.

Quinn's vise grip on my hand loosens and she looks out the window, gasping. "Look, Alodia! There it is!"

"Get a good look now, everyone!" Jake calls. "We're coming in fast! Welcome to La Huerta!"

And there it is. Rising out of the endless, rolling blue sea, its shores licked by frothy waves, a billowing green mass of an island. The dark, jagged peak of a volcano pokes up over the tree tops surrounding it, exhaling a white column of smoke. From this angle, it looks a bit like gravy poured over a pile of green mashed potatoes. Or chocolate drizzled on top of a bowl of mint ice cream. It is breath-taking. And that is only increased as we glide towards it and spots of blue, purple, yellow, orange, and red reveal themselves in the clouds of green.

"La Huerta Tower," Jake says into his headset, "this is tail number XC-DMK, requesting emergency priority to land." There is a moment of silence. "Carlos! Pick up, you lazy bastard! It's Jake!" Another pause. "Ignoring me won't make me forget the hundred bucks you owe me. Like it or not, we're coming in!"

It's not the smoothest landing I've ever been through. But at least the landing gear seems to work, because the plane doesn't land on her belly. It comes to a stop on a dirt strip safely shy of the trees, and Jake guides it into the hangar. The doors are opened, and we all descend the boarding ladder, ready to collect our bags. I smirk at Jake.

"Rough landing, Top Gun. Hope you don't work for tips."

He laughs. "You kidding? I'm a damn hero for even getting you on the ground." He heads out of the hangar, shouting, "Carlos! I need a tune-up! ...Carlos!"

Jake marches off in search of Carlos. Meanwhile, we start pulling our luggage out of the open cargo bay.

"This island's supposed to be one of the most beautiful places on earth. The beaches, the waterfalls..."

"It's also home to a plethora of rare flora and fauna!" Grace says happily.

"Only ten spots on this trip, and they had to give one to this dork," Craig mutters.

I reach for the handle of my suitcase, and my hand brushes Sean's. He snatches his hand back, blushing.

"Oh, sorry."

I grin. "Hey, if you want to carry my bags, go right ahead."

"Oh, my god! Could you be any more desperate?"

I turn at the new voice. An unbelievably gorgeous Asian woman with bleached blonde hair drapes her arms around Sean. Colorful make-up is applied thick as pancake batter to her face, lain on with skill and artistry that I cannot help but find impressive. She seems to deliberately flout the "make it look like you're not wearing any" philosophy of make-up that I was taught, and she totally gets away with it. She looks like a peacock or a showgirl in the best way possible. She scowls at me.

"People like you always hover around the spotlight like moths," she sneers.

"...Spotlight? What?"

"Yeah, right. As if you don't know who Sean is."

"Seriously?" Craig chimes in. "Our superstar quarterback? ...The Heisman frontrunner?"

"Guys..." Sean shifts uncomfortably. "It's cool. Chill out."

"Look," the girl says, "Sean doesn't need any famehounds hanging around, got it?"

A surge of temper bubbles up from my gut and hits my tongue. "So what are you doing here?" I snap. I feel guilty for it, but I cannot help but enjoy the look on her face. She's pretty cute when she's furious.

"Ex-cuse me?!"

"You heard me," I say sweetly. "You're just stalling to think up a comeback. Don't worry, I'll wait."

Her eyes go wide. "You-!" She sputters helplessly for a moment, and it's adorable.

Apparently, Sean doesn't agree with me. "Michelle!" he snaps. "Can you chill? And I don't mean Netflix and chill, I mean actual chill. Please."

The two of them start to argue, so I excuse myself. As I back away, I hear something clink against the heel of my sneaker and reflexively turn to see what it is. I bend and carefully pick up a narrow metal cylinder with a bright red plume at one end and a long hollow needle at the other.

Diego comes up beside me, his duffle bag on his shoulder. "Is that...a tranquilizer dart? Can I see?" He holds out his hand, and I pass it to him. He looks it over for a moment. "The vial's nearly empty. It must've hit its target."

"Looks like a pretty big dose. Whatever animal this took down must have been huge."

Diego grins wickedly. "You mean if they took it down."

I give him a light swat on the shoulder. Then something else catches my eye. Or rather, someone. The dark-haired girl in the blue hoodie, the one with the scar over her eye, is hovering nearby, listening to our conversation.

"Hey...Diego...who is that?"

He turns follow my gaze. "...I dunno." He turns back to grin at me again. "Got eyes for the mysterious hottie?"

I poke him. "Not that, you brat. ...There's something...off about her..."

"What gives you that idea?"

For a moment, I'm not sure. I cast my eyes around at the rest of my classmates, milling around with their luggage, slowly organizing themselves into clusters. Craig and Sean with Raj and Michelle nearby, Grace and Aleister and the girl with the undercut, Quinn...

...I look back at Diego, and it hits me like a bolt of lightning.

"...There are too many of us," I whisper.

"Too many?"

"We were told that ten students had won this trip, right? Count us off. Not including the pilot or the guide...she makes eleven."

"You're right. And I don't think I've ever seen her before. ...Who is she?"

I look back at the girl and her eyes lock with mine. For a moment, her eyes trap me. I try to look away, but I'm held fast, drawn into those glittering dark pools that seem to look right through me.

"Hey! Lila! Where the hell are your people?"

Jake's voice seems to break whatever spell I was under. The quiet girl looks away. I shake myself back to reality.

"There's nobody here!" Jake says, storming up to Lila.

He's right. Our group are the only ones here.

"They should be here in a shuttle to take us up to the resort, but..." For a moment, Lila looks nervous. Then she smiles brightly. "I'm sure it's just a slight delay. No need to fret. They'll be here any minute."

Jake snorts in frustration. "The hell with that. I'm going up to the control tower to get some answers."

"What do you think is going on there?" I ask.

"No idea." His face is grim. "Call it a gut feeling, but whatever it is, it ain't good. So, Princess. You comin' or not?"

"...What? Me?"

"I could go with you," Michelle offers.

"Wasn't talkin' to you, Maybelline," Jake answers tersely.

Diego elbows me and leans close to my ear. "Go with him, Allie," he whispers, "He's hot."

"And you have a one-track mind," I mutter back. But I shrug and say more loudly, "Sure, I'll come along."

"Um...okay. Sure." Lila says hesitantly. "I guess...the rest of you follow me? We'll take the short walk up to the resort. Sounds fun, right? Yay! ...Um...Quinn? Where are you going?"

Quinn skips past Lila, unbuttoning her blouse.

"Some of us would like to explore the beach first! We'll meet you guys at the resort." She stops just in front of me, fiddling with her top button. "This button's stuck. ...Alodia, will you help me?"

I blink. Suddenly, Quinn, her delicate face, and her pert breasts are just inches from my body. She smiles sweetly, nodding at the button that rests at her cleavage.

"Uh...sure." I slip the top button out of its hole. The blouse slides sensuously off of Quinn's pale shoulders.

"That's better. You should come check out the beach with us when you're done at the control tower."

"Yeah. Sure thing." She skips off and I exhale slowly, my eyes lingering on the shapely bottom hugged by a pair of daisy dukes. Something tells me Quinn and those huge blue eyes of hers are going to be trouble. Not to mention that round butt...

I force myself to look away and follow Jake towards the control tower.

"...So, it's cool if I join you?"

He raises an eyebrow at me. "I invited you, Princess. You ask permission for everything?"

The stairs to the control tower are rusted and rickety. I grip the railings tightly as I carefully climb, focusing on the lush emerald rainforest stretching endlessly before me. I feel a goofy, contented smile playing around my mouth.

"This place is so gorgeous," I sigh. "You fly out here a lot, Top Gun?"

"Here and every other privately owned resort island in the Caribbean," he says with something like a sneer in his voice. "The favored vacation spots of the young and privileged."

"You don't sound like you like it much."

"Hey, it pays the bar tab."

"What got you into this business?"

"What gets anyone into anything? Necessity. I had a plane, a pilot's license, a dishonorable discharge, and an empty bank account. What is this anyway, Twenty Questions?"

"...Sorry."

There's a moment of silence, but then Jake continues on his own.

"...Look. I'm from Louisiana. And if ferrying rich jerks around a couple times a week is the price I gotta pay to never set foot back there, hell, I'll pay it."

His continuing feels like permission to ask my next question. "You mentioned a dishonorable discharge...?"

"Yeah. I was in the navy. Fighter pilot."

"...What did you do?"

"...Punched my commanding officer in the jaw."

His answer makes me physically pause for a moment. "...I'm sure he deserved it," I say after a moment.

As if sensing that I've stopped climbing, Jake does, too, a few steps ahead of me. He doesn't look back at me. "Yeah. He did." His shoulders lift and drop briefly. "...Been sleeping in a beach hammock in Costa Rica ever since."

"Sounds lonely," I say before I can stop myself.

"Yeah. That's the appeal."

"I mean, I get wanting to get away for a little while, but don't you want more? Someone to come home to, someone to listen to you...someone to hold you all through the night..."

Now he turns back to me, smirking. "You offering, Princess?"

I feel my cheeks growing hot. "What...? No, I...I just meant...in theory..."

He locks eyes with me. "In theory, I wanted to be the best pilot the Navy had ever seen. In practice..." He shrugs. "Well, you can't beat a cold beer and a Caribbean sunset."

He turns and starts up the stairs again. After a moment, I follow. I lift my foot and put it down on one rusted metal step, but as I lift the other, the step gives way beneath me. My heart leaps to my mouth as I drop into empty air.

"Jake!" No sooner has his name escaped my lips than his rough hands wrap around my wrists. I abruptly stop falling, pain lancing through my shoulders.

"Gotcha!" He yanks me upwards, pulling me against him as I scramble to find my footing. The two halves of the step spiral fifty feet to the dirt below. I watch them falling, clutching Jake for support until I can stop trembling. "You okay, Princess?"

I nod weakly. "...I think you may have just saved my life."

"Now you owe me one." He pulls back gently, frowning at the rusted step. "And that's one more smack I'm giving Carlos. Should have replaced these steps months ago. Come on."

We reach the top of the tower, and Jake pushes the door open. "Carlos, you dumb..." He stops short, suddenly realizing he's speaking to an empty room. Control screens and buttons are dark. The door to the lavatory—which looks like it's even smaller than the one on the airplane—is open, and the room inside is dark, too.

"...There's no one here," I remark.

"Thanks, Eagle Eyes, I couldn't tell."

Ignoring his tone, I walk over to the desk and trail my hand over the equipment. My palm comes away coated with dust.

"Are you sure they still use this airstrip?"

"Of course I'm sure. I was here just here a few days ago, and I'm damn sure..."

He trails off. He looks over my shoulder and his eyes go wide. I turn, and I can't help gasping.

In the distance, an aurora of red, blue, and green light pulses, not only in the sky, but in the island itself, dancing over the treetops and the glowing ocean. Jake moves to touch the glass, beautiful colors playing over his face like lights reflected from beneath water. I move with him, taking his hand almost as a gut reaction. His fingers lace with mine.

"Jake...what is this?"

"I...I don't know..."

He turns to look at me, and our eyes meet, our faces shimmering in the aurora's light. I feel time slowing down around me. Then I blink, and the beautiful colors in the sky are gone.

"...It stopped," is all I can say.

Jake exhales and looks down to where our fingers are still entwined. He coughs and draws his hand back. "Uh...sorry. It...must have been something...weird with the glass here. Who knows. Forget it. Just...come on."

Jake ducks out. I hesitate for a moment, watching the sky for the aurora's return. But there is no trace of it. I reluctantly follow.

We carefully navigate the stairs down to solid ground again, taking care to avoid the broken step. As we descend, I can see Quinn and the others at the beach.

"I'm heading up to the hotel to catch up with Lila. Carlos must be up there. Which way are you heading?"

"I told Quinn I'd catch up with her at the beach. Good luck finding your friend."

Jake nods at me, and I head towards the beach, slipping off my shoes to step onto the sand. It's fine and smooth and warm. I dig my feet into it, sighing contentedly.

Quinn, stripped down to a pale blue bikini, twirls her way over to me across the sand, laughing. "This must be heaven!"

Raj spreads his arms and falls backwards into the sand. "Yup. I'm staying right here all week. I'm never moving ever again. ...Can someone get me a beer?"

"The beach is nice," Michelle says. Then she turns to glare at me. "Too bad Alodia's here."

Craig snorts. "Nice one, Meech."

She turns her glare onto Craig. "Call me Meech again, and I'll rip your spine out by your stupid hair."

"Isn't this magical?" Quinn sighs. "It's like we have the whole island to ourselves."

"It's pretty peaceful," I agree. I look out at the sparkling water. "The water looks amazing. I'd love to go swimming."

"Who says we can't?" She grabs my head and pulls me towards the water.

"Haha! Hang on! I've got a bathing suit on under here!" I pause just long enough to strip off jeans and shirt. Quinn smiles.

"I hope you're a good swimmer."

"Me?" I laugh. "Practically an Olympian." Not exactly true, but I rarely let the truth get in the way of a flirt. Besides, I can hold my own in the water. I've been a gymnast and a dancer most of my life, so my limbs are strong.

"Good. Because I'm not the best at it. So if anything happens, just carry me back to the beach and give me CPR, okay?"

"Sure, I'll be your hero."

Hand in hand, we wade into the water. The currents are gentle and the temperature is perfect. Just cool enough to be refreshing without being a shock.

"God, is anything on this island not perfect?"

"Not so far!" Quinn laughs.

I smile. I like hearing her laugh. "Second question: are you always this spontaneous?"

Quinn's smile falters. She gazes out over the horizon.

"...No. I wasn't always like this. But after last year, I've tried to make the most out of every day." She goes quiet. I feel something chilly creeping into my belly.

"...What happened last year?"

She swallows. "Let's just say...I was very afraid. But I don't have to worry about that anymore." Suddenly, she gasps. "Alodia! Look!"

There is a small flash as something leaps out of the water and unfurls wings that gleam like jewels in the sun. To my utter disbelief, I realize that it's a seahorse. A multicolored seahorse with iridescent butterfly's wings. It flutters in front of Quinn, who watches it with rapture. After a moment, it darts off, fast as a hummingbird.

"Did that seriously just happen?! Alodia, have you ever seen anything like that?" Quinn turns and calls out to the others on shore. "Guys, did you see that?!"

"Huh? Who cares?" Craig answers. "Do you see this?!"

I shield my eyes and see that Craig is burying a snoring Raj under a pile of sand.

"Ugh! Quit goofing around, Craig!" Michelle snaps. "Everyone else went up to the hotel already. Come on, let's catch up! Who's gonna carry my bag?"

The others start drifting up towards the hotel, leaving me alone with Quinn in the swirling surf.

"I...can't believe it. They missed it! It was incredible!"

"You and I are the only ones who saw it," Quinn says. "It's almost like...we shared a secret. ...I'm glad you were with me, Alodia."

"Yeah. Me too."

We head back to the beach and get dressed before following the others. Suitcases in hand, our whole group makes its way up the winding pathway towards the resort. By the time we round the last bend, my legs are throbbing and my throat burns with thirst. But that is forgotten when we see the resort, a building of elegant modern design, gleaming like a palace in the sun.

"Welcome to The Celestial!" Lila says with a flourish of her arms. "The jewel of the Caribbean!"

"Aw, hell yeah!" Craig crows. "That's what I'm talking about!"

"Is this place even real?" Raj breathes.

"Let's go! My luxury suite awaits!"

A long, ornamented overhang of white marble shades the entranceway from the sun, held up by glistening marble pillars. Anticipation floods my chest, and I throw an arm around Diego's shoulders.

"We're here, Diego! Get ready for the most amazing week of our lives!"

We rush through the automatic doors. ...And we immediately freeze. No one speaks. No one moves. The silence is deafening. Nothing breaks it. Nothing.

There is no one else here.