Page 24

Phoebe

Then

I look out from where I stand on the deck of the yacht, hands placed solidly on the metal railing in front of me.

Cerulean water stretches in every direction, without a single piece of land in sight.

The Great Barrier Reef is just as beautiful as everyone said it would be—from the surface at least—but I can barely acknowledge it.

Instead, I can’t help but focus my attention on trying not to vomit from the sight of Kyan and Adrien splayed out on the sunbathing area of the deck, hands intertwined.

It’s the day after I skipped out on skydiving, choosing instead to lounge by the hostel pool with Claire all afternoon before once again hitting a bar with the rest of the crew, only to be subjected to another showing of Kyan and Adrien’s soft-core porno on the dance floor.

Enough is enough. Today I put my plan in motion.

I take a sip from my can of Coke, and grimace at the sharp sting of rum.

When he found out the yacht bar was open, Nick had a conniption—he usually gets weird when we talk about drinking, always disappearing whenever it’s time for us to head to a bar or when bottles emerge after an activity, but this was next-level.

He forbade any of us from ordering alcohol before snorkeling, claiming it was a liability risk for the program, but I bribed the bartender with a twenty to throw a shot of Bacardi into a Coke can without Nick noticing.

With everything that’s been going on, I need that confidence that only comes with a shot or two of liquor. Especially today.

“It is so beautiful,” Tomas says, appearing next to me at the railing and gazing out, awestruck. “We have nothing like this back in Italy.”

I can’t help but smile. Of all of us—even Claire—Tomas is the most innocent. He stares around at everything, eyes wide behind his glasses. And God love him, but he won’t shut up about how excited he is to see the damn Outback. Everything about him is just so endearing.

“It’s gorgeous,” I agree, bending over the railing and letting the breeze whip my hair back. Out of the corner of my eye I notice a flash of red. Adrien is sitting up, her head in her hands.

“Sorry, Tomas, I have to use the restroom,” I say, leaving him staring out to the horizon.

It’s time.

***

Adrien has been complaining to anyone who will listen about how seasick she gets on boats.

Which is funny. Given her haughtiness, I would have figured she grew up sailing on yachts.

Ellery offered to lend her ginger tablets she’d brought with her, but Adrien declined, said she came equipped with her own specially prescribed pills.

Which is what gave me the idea for this plan.

I head down to the bottom level of the boat, which houses the bar, a handful of tables and benches, and racks of life vests.

Thankfully, most people are on the deck, enjoying the ride out to the reef.

On my way to the stairs, I spot Claire and Declan sitting towards the front of the boat, their heads close together, laughing.

She collapsed onto my bunk bed last night, giddy as a schoolgirl as she recounted how Declan had finally made his move.

Declan pulled me aside this morning too, before we got on the boat, to thank me for pushing him to man up.

I haven’t told Claire about the plan. Despite not saying anything when she saw me trip Adrien at the bungee jump, I know she wouldn’t approve of this. And I didn’t want to pop her newly loved-up bubble.

The only person downstairs is Nick Gould, hunched over his laptop. He raises one bushy eyebrow in my direction as he watches me descend the stairs.

“Seasick,” I say. “I brought pills with me.”

Nick grunts, and I return my attention to my mission.

I grab my backpack from where I stowed it under one of the benches.

Before anyone can notice, I move it to the next table, where I saw Adrien place her bag earlier.

Glancing over my shoulder to make sure I’m alone, I grab the monogrammed Louis Vuitton tote and immediately position my body to block it from view before digging through it.

The pills are in the second pouch I check.

An orange bottle with a white cap. There’s only one catch.

They look different from mine. Where mine are small, round, and white, Adrien’s are blue oblong capsules.

Shit. The only thing I can hope for is that she hasn’t taken them before, or that she’s so sick she doesn’t notice.

I get to work, pouring the bottle of blue pills onto my palm before unscrewing my own bottle. I’m transferring the white pills into Adrien’s bottle when I feel a tap on my back.

I turn, abruptly enough that one of the pills goes skidding across the floor.

“Where did you find the restroom? I do not see—”

Tomas stops as he takes in the pill rolling on the floor, the two bottles in my hand, Adrien’s signature bag. His eyes widen, his mouth forming a perfect O.

“What are you doing?”

His tone is more serious than I’ve ever heard it, and I flinch as though he’s struck me.

“It isn’t what it looks like.” I mean, it is, in fact, but hopefully Tomas is just as na?ve as he appears.

No such luck.

“You should not be doing that,” he says coldly.

“I’m just…I couldn’t find my motion sickness pills, and I remember Adrien talking about how she had some. I know she’d never loan them to me if I asked, so I figured I would just take one from her bag. Please don’t tell her.”

It’s not great, but it’s the best excuse I can fumble through on such short notice.

Tomas stares at me, and for a moment I think he’s going to call me out, brand me a liar. But then he gives me a wary smile, one that almost sends me to my knees in relief.

“Okay. But where is…”

“Oh yeah, the bathroom. It’s over there,” I say pointing to the back of the boat.

Tomas nods and heads in that direction. I steal a glance at Nick, but he doesn’t seem to notice—or care—what we were talking about.

I take a deep breath and twist the cap on Adrien’s bottle before stuffing it back into her bag.

***

It’s a good plan if I do say so myself. Replacing Adrien’s seasickness pills with the extra-strength laxatives my physician had prescribed me before the trip in case of tummy issues.

I really can’t imagine anything more wonderful than flawless, always put-together Adrien, shitting herself on a fancy yacht in the middle of the ocean in front of everyone.

I came up with it during my conversation with Claire the other day.

Kyan only likes perfect things, those that sparkle.

And once he sees Princess Adrien dethroned, he’ll want nothing to do with her.

Plus, it has the added bonus of embarrassing the shit out of her—pun very much intended—in front of everyone.

Twenty minutes after I successfully switch the pills, we’re all back on the lower level, huddled around the tables as Nick drones on about the safety precautions we need to follow while we’re out snorkeling. But I’m barely listening.

Instead, I’m watching Adrien. She’s sitting a few tables over from me with her eyes pressed tightly closed, her skin gradually turning greener. She winces every time the boat shifts.

Finally, Nick stops talking. I watch Adrien reach for her bag, her hands rummaging until she pulls out something. The orange prescription bottle.

This is it.

My heart is pounding, my hands nearly trembling with anticipation. Will she notice the difference in the pills?

Slowly, she unscrews the top of the bottle and pours two into her open palm. Blood pounds in my ears as she pauses, looking down at them.

And then she reaches for her water.

I release an enormous breath, a smile rippling across my face as she raises her palm to her mouth.

And at the very last second, just as she’s about to place the pills in her mouth, Tomas is by her side, his hand on her arm.

He says something to her that I can’t hear over the others’ conversation, and she lowers her hand.

And then they both look over at me.

I’m caught.