Page 26

"Exactly," I whisper before I’m hit with a thought. Why the hell am I not taking photos of what I’m seeing?

I pull out my phone and start snapping photographs through the window.

The colors, the buildings, the palm trees lining some of the streets.

It all feels surreal after leaving the gray winter of Virginia behind just hours ago.

"You should put those on your socials," Madison suggests as she glances at my screen as I swipe through what I captured.

"I will and send them to my mom and Abue," I reply, snapping a few more.

The shuttle winds through the city, eventually turning onto a road that hugs the coastline. It takes another few minutes before the shuttle slows and turns onto a palm-lined driveway, and I quickly figure out we’ve arrived at the place we’ll be staying for the week.

"This is really nice," Madison whispers as our driver parks the shuttle.

Professor Wallace stands and I know it’s time for us to get more instructions. "We've arrived! Please collect your belongings and head to the reception area. Professor Moore will meet you there and will hand you your hotel keys."

Once we do what Professor Wallace says, I follow Madison toward the reception area, a breezy space with ceiling fans spinning lazily overhead and potted plants in every corner.

After a brief check-in process, I'm handed a key card with "Room 212" written on the paper sleeve.

"Looks like we're on the second floor," Madison says, flashing me her identical key. "Want to head up?"

I nod and start walking before I can say a word.

We quickly find out that the hotel is arranged in a horseshoe shape around a central courtyard filled with plants and a small pool.

Our room is on the second floor, accessible via an open-air walkway that overlooks the courtyard.

When Madison unlocks the door, I'm happy at what we find.

The room is simple but beautiful. Two queen beds with crisp white linens, wooden furniture, and large windows that let in plenty of natural light. There's a small balcony with two chairs overlooking the ocean in the distance.

"Dibs on the bed by the window," Madison says, but I get the vibe that she'd switch with me if I asked.

"Take it," I reply, dropping my suitcase beside the other bed. "I prefer being closer to the bathroom anyway."

Speaking of which, the bathroom is small but clean, with a walk-in shower and toiletries lined up on a shelf. I’m already mentally preparing for how luxurious this shower is going to feel.

Madison flops onto her bed with a dramatic sigh. "I can't believe we're actually here."

"I know. It doesn’t feel real yet," I say, unzipping my suitcase. It sticks for a moment before giving way. "I might unpack before I shower." And text Mom and Abue. Can’t forget to do that.

"That's a good idea." Madison is already pulling clothes from her pink bag.

As I remove my folded clothes, I find myself categorizing: tops in one pile, bottoms in another, undergarments tucked away in the drawer.

I’m doing my best to remain as organized as possible because I’m sharing a room with another person.

If I wasn’t? Clothes would be thrown all over the bed Madison has claimed as hers for the duration of this trip.

Madison tells me about her classes last semester, her family that lives out in Texas, how she's never been this far east before let alone to a Caribbean island. I make the appropriate noises at what seem like the right moments and that's enough to get Madison to think I'm fully invested.

"You're really organized," she comments, watching me arrange my toiletries on my side of the bathroom counter.

"I’m only doing it because we are sharing a room," I say, lining up my face wash, toner, and moisturizer. "My brain is full of chaos and my stuff usually is, but I don’t want to be rude to you."

"That's really nice of you. Thanks," Madison says as she unzips a pink makeup bag covered in purple stars. "I have four older brothers, so I’m used to…things being messy for lack of a better word."

That draws my attention back to the conversation. "Four brothers? That explains the very pink/Barbiesque suitcase. Is that a part of your rebellion?"

Madison gives me the biggest belly laugh. “It is! Growing up, everything was sports equipment and stinky clothes, so I went full glitter princess just to claim some territory. Do you have siblings? Play any sports?"

"One brother. He’s older than me and much more athletic.

" I don't elaborate that he's Knox Sanchez, hockey star. I'm not ready for the inevitable follow-up questions that always come with that revelation. Not that I’m ashamed of my brother in any way, shape, or form. While there’s a chance she doesn’t know who he is, if she does it’s not a rabbit hole I want to go down right now.

She takes a break from unpacking and sits cross-legged on her bed. She picks up her phone and starts scrolling. "My oldest brother was the rodeo star of our family. Bull riding, calf roping, etc."

"Wait. Rodeo? Like actual bull riding?" I pause with a t-shirt half-folded in my hands.

"Oh yeah." Madison nods. "He was state champion three years running. Had all the local girls swooning over him in his Wranglers and boots."

"That's...not what I expected you to say." I sit on my bed because my clothes can wait. "Is he still competing?"

Madison lets out a laugh. "Oh hell no. He left our little town the day after graduation. Now he races in Formula 1. Lives in Monaco half the year."

I blink at her because there’s no way I heard that right. "Hold up. Your brother went from rodeo to Formula 1? That's quite the career change."

"Machines with horsepower are machines with horsepower, I guess." She shrugs, like it's the most normal career trajectory in the world. "Mom nearly had a heart attack the first time she saw him going 200 miles per hour on TV. Dad just said he always knew my brother wouldn't stay put."

"That's honestly one of the coolest things I've ever heard," I admit.

My brain immediately jumps to wanting to interview him about all of this and more, but I stomp that thought into the ground for now.

"My brother just...plays hockey." Now it felt silly for me to be worried about her knowing what Knox did.

“What do you mean he just plays hockey?” Madison looks up from her phone and tilts her head as she studies me.

I shrug, trying to brush it off. "Nothing. He's great at it, but I meant hockey isn't as unexpected as going from bulls to racecars."

"Trust me, it wasn't exactly planned," Madison says with a laugh. "Tate—that's my brother—has always had this thing about speed. Used to modify his truck to go faster than anything else in the county. Nearly killed himself twice before he was seventeen."

"And your parents still let him drive?" I ask. Because she can’t be serious.

"Let him?" Madison snorts. "They couldn't stop him. That's just Tate. When he sets his mind on something, it happens." She pulls out her phone, scrolls for a second, then hands it to me. "That's him."

I take the phone and stare at the photo. The man on the screen has Madison's same warm eyes, but his hair is much darker. He's leaning against a sleek red racecar, wearing a driving suit unzipped to reveal a plain white t-shirt. He looks like he belongs on a billboard.

"That's your brother?" I hand the phone back to her. "He's...wow."

"Yeah, that's what most people say." Madison laughs as she tosses her phone on her bed. “Anyway, do you want to shower first or should I?”

"You go ahead," I say. "I’ll finish unpacking, and I need to text my mom." I’m proud of myself for reminding myself to do that. Again.

"You sure?" Madison asks, already grabbing her toiletry bag. "I have no problem waiting."

"Positive. Take your time."

As soon as the bathroom door clicks shut and the shower starts running, I exhale and roll my shoulders back. It helps to relieve the pressure that's been building in my body since we landed. Maybe since we took off. Maybe since I found out Blaise would be on this trip.

I finish unpacking and send my mom and abuela a text letting them know I was safely in Puerto Rico and hanging out at the hotel.

By the time Madison emerges from the bathroom in a cloud of steam and coconut-scented body wash, I've managed to arrange my side of the room into something resembling order.

"All yours," she says as she takes her hair out of the clip she threw it up in. "The water pressure is amazing."

I grab my things for the shower and say, "Thanks. I'll be quick."

The second I close the bathroom door behind me, I lean against it and just breathe.

The mirror is still fogged from Madison's shower, but I can make out my reflection. I look a bit rough, between being slightly frazzled and desperately in need of hot water to wash away the travel day. I strip off my travel clothes, toss my hair up into a messy bun, and step into the shower. Madison was right about the water pressure, and I close my eyes as the water hits my shoulders. For the first time since landing, I’m starting to really relax.

By the time I step out, the mirror is completely fogged again. I wipe a circle clear and stare at my reflection. My cheeks are flushed from the heat, but I look and feel more alive than I did twenty minutes ago.

I wrap myself in a towel and walk back into the bedroom, feeling slightly more human.

"Feel better?" Madison asks. She’s now dressed in a bright yellow sundress that looks stunning against her complexion and hair.

"So much better. What time is the welcome dinner again?"

"Seven." Madison checks her phone. "We have about forty minutes."

I pull out a simple white sundress with delicate floral embroidery that my mom insisted I pack and hold it up. "Think this works?"

"Absolutely." Madison nods approvingly. "It'll look gorgeous on you."

I wrap up the rest of my routine, which includes getting dressed quickly, and while my hair is slightly damp, I assume it’ll dry fast. Once I’ve added a touch of mascara, tinted moisturizer and lip balm to my face, I’m ready to go.

I think I’ve done just enough to look put together without trying too hard.

"Ready?" Madison asks as she slips her feet into a pair of flip flops.

"As I'll ever be," I reply. I double check that I have everything I need in my small cross-body bag I brought for occasions such as this.

The walk to the lobby is short but already feels more comfortable than when we arrived. When we get to the lobby, quite a few people from our group are already there. It’s a relief that we aren’t too early or too late.

That relief dissolves the second I glance over my right shoulder and catch Blaise looking at me. I didn’t see him when we walked into the lobby, but now it’s as if he’s standing under a neon red sign with an arrow pointed down at him.

He’s blatantly staring at me and it’s obvious that he doesn’t give a damn who knows it. He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t pretend he isn’t. He just keeps watching with a stern expression that makes me want to figure out what he’s thinking.

And then his gaze drops slowly. I now have no doubt where his brain has wandered off to because I swear his eyes are tracking every inch of my body like he’s committing it to memory.

It’s not a look you give someone by accident and it’s definitely not the kind of look he should be giving me with the circumstances between us.

I should be irritated. I should be something.

But all I can do is stare back as if he’s put me in a trance.

When he finally lifts his eyes to mine again, for a few beats, the world stops spinning on its axis.

But when Madison calls my name, I turn and look away. Yet I’m still wondering what that was all about and how it will factor into the time we spend together on this island for the next week.