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As we walk, I take photos and send them to Michie. But by now, it’s two in the morning in LA and she’s probably asleep. I send her photo after photo anyway. She’ll see them when she wakes up and I can’t wait to hear what she has to say about this incredible place.

When a baby monkey detaches from its mother and walks toward me, I stop in my tracks and giggle out loud. Without warning, it springs up. I don’t even have time to shriek, never mind duck, before the little paws dig into my hair and snatch atmy sunglasses before jumping off my shoulder and slithering up a nearby tree.

“Holy shit! Did you guys see that? Oh my god!”

Kiki and Eleanor double over with laughter. Seriously?

“Filled with empathy as usual,” I snap at them while rubbing gingerly at my head.

“Are you okay?” George says, stepping so he’s in front of me, looking closely at my head. “Let me see.” He lifts his hand and touches the side of my face so gently that my mouth goes dry.

Somehow, I manage to find my voice and say, “I’m fine.”

George tucks my hair behind my ear, his fingers leaving a trail of flames on the side of my head. “Yeah, I think you are,” he says, and I can’t bear the expression he’s wearing, like I’m the only person in the world worth paying any attention to, everything around us disappearing into silence until there’s just me and him on this entire island. Okay, please cool it, hormones.

“We should probably get those sunglasses back,” Kiki says. “They’re Gucci, you know.”

George and I blink and step back from each other. “Yeah, of course,” he says. “I know just the trick.” He reaches into his pocket and takes out—of all things—a small banana.

“Is that a banana in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” I say. Oh my god, why, mouth?

Eleanor shrieks with laughter as George’s cheeks turn red.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist. Because, seriously, why do you have a banana in your pocket?”

“Because I knew we were coming here!” He shakes his head at us. “God, you bunch of toddlers. Now my banana is about tosave the day.” He turns and looks up at the top of the tree, where the baby monkey is sitting. It has placed the sunglasses on its face, but they’re too big for it and keep slipping off. He raises the banana and calls out to the baby monkey, who perks up, the oversize glasses slipping down onto its shoulders. “Give me the sunglasses,” George shouts out slowly, enunciating each syllable, “and you’ll get a banana. Mm-mmm, banana. Yum.”

The baby monkey descends slowly, cautiously, and George waves the banana at it. But just as the baby monkey reaches the lowest branch, there’s a rustle from a nearby bush. A huge monkey leaps out, grabs the banana, and darts up another tree. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to stop laughing at the perfect mix of shock and horror on George’s face.

We’ve been walking the forest trail for about ten minutes, chatting amicably with one another, Eleanor and Sharlot still giggling over my monkey mishap, when Eleanor says in an extra-loud voice, “And then I overheard Herry—you know, Herry Kusuma? He was talking about how he’s really going to miss us all when his entire family moves to Sweden.”

You could see Rina’s entire body perk up; I swear, even her ears straighten up. I bet the hairs on her nape are pinpricks. “Herry Kusuma?” she says, gesturing at the camera guy to follow this conversation from a few paces away, probably to keep from spooking Eleanor.

I have no idea what Eleanor’s trying to pull. Herry Kusuma is the youngest son of the owner of Sanu Group, our biggest corporate rivals.

Eleanor says. “We’re classmates. We both go to Xingfa School. You know, I heard that Herry had been waitlisted because he failed the entrance exam, and his family had to “donate” to the school. Did you know that?”

Rina frowns. “Do you have anything to corroborate this claim?”

Eleanor studies her fingernails. “Hmm, I’ll have to think about that. So anyway, Sweden…”

Next to Eleanor, Kiki’s viciously biting her lip like me, probably to keep from smiling. I turn around to look at Sharlot’s reaction and find that she’s not paying attention to Eleanor and Rina. Instead, she’s too busy taking photos of the monkeys, trying to catch their attention as she snaps away.

“You’re really into these monkeys, huh?” I say. Then I wince inwardly. Did that come out sounding as lame as it did in my head?

She takes another picture of a beleaguered-looking mother monkey with a baby monkey swinging from her tail. “Yeah, I can’t wait to draw them. Their muscle tone and the lines of their bodies—it’s amazing.”

“Huh. I didn’t know you drew.”

She glances at me before looking down at her phone. “A little.”

“That’s really cool. Is that what you’re planning on majoring in when you go to college?”

This time, the glance she gives me lasts a bit longer and no longer has any barbs. One corner of her mouth quirks up.

“What?” I say.

She shrugs. “Nothing. It’s just—you didn’t assume it was a hobby like most people do.”