Nil (8 page)

Thad’s voice was quiet. “She’s better off where she is.”

I looked at Thad. He was reaching into his satchel, his face hidden.

“Okay,” he said, looking up with a grin. “I’ve got coconut soap, a towel, and new clothes. The pool’s shallow. But be careful. Over by the waterfall, it drops fast to overhead. Behind the waterfall is a small ledge. I’ll leave your stuff at the edge here, then I’ll turn around.” His deep blue eyes turned playful. “I promise not to peek.”

My cheeks burned. “Definitely no peeking.” My mouth felt dry and yucky, and suddenly I felt icky all over again. “Crazy question. Do y’all have any toothbrushes?”

“Sort of. They’re rough, but they work.” Thad pulled a contraption from his satchel. It was a stick with some spiky things on one end. “The bristles don’t last that long; they’re plants. This one’s yours. Natalie made it.”

“Thanks.” I felt incredibly grateful to a girl I didn’t even know. Then I had a thought. “Do objects come through the gates too? Like toothbrushes?” I smiled.

“Nope. No objects. Just living things, like people. Everything here in Nil City has been made by us or those who have come before.” His voice was unmistakably proud, but sad, making me wonder what he was thinking.

He looked down, and a ray of light glinted off his hair, gold on gold. And in that moment, I’d never felt filthier in my entire life.

I took one step toward the pool and stopped. Rocks lined the edge, full of nooks and crannies—perfect hideouts for water moccasins. “Thad,” I said slowly, eyeing the water, “are there snakes in there?”

“Nope.” He grinned, and the mischievous glint in his eyes returned. “No snakes. Not in the Cove, not anywhere on Nil.”

“
None?
Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. There’s nothing cold-blooded on the island. No snakes, no lizards. No reptiles of any sort. Only warm-blooded creatures make it to Nil.”

“Huh. No snakes.” Nil instantly was less scary. I took another step toward the Cove, then turned back again.

“Aliens? What about aliens?”

“There are no aliens in the Cove,” Thad answered straight-faced.

“Not in the Cove. I meant on Nil.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s just—the first day I was here, I saw some creatures, flying. Like birds, but I swear they had heads. Human heads. And well, with the freaky way I got here, I’ve been wondering what they were. And if they’re dangerous.”

Now the corners of Thad’s mouth curved up. “That was me and Jason, using gliders.” He cocked one eyebrow, his grin spreading. “So nothing dangerous, eh?”

I think you’re plenty dangerous
. “Well, I did fall and hit my head within minutes of laying eyes on you,” I said.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said, running his hand through his hair.

I snorted. “Why are you apologizing for me fainting?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t catch you.”

An awkward silence fell between us; the crisp morning air was suddenly heavy. Thad cleared his throat and pointed to the Cove.

“Word of warning, Charley. The water’s chilly. It’s spring-fed, so when you first walk in, it’s a bit of a shock.” He grinned, a lazy grin that stole oxygen from the air. “I’ll turn around now.”

With Thad’s back to me, I stepped into the pool.

The water wasn’t chilly. I know chilly. The early November air that brushes your face first thing in the morning is chilly. The can of Sprite when you pull it from the refrigerator is chilly. The water in the shower before the hot side kicks in feels chilly.

The pool water was
freezing
. Stepping into the Cove felt like stepping into an ice bath, something I’d done once after an intense volleyball workout at the suggestion of our overzealous coach who thought ice baths were great for muscle recovery. I’d thought it was pure torture. And right now I was thinking my dreamy island bath with coconut soap would be the shortest one in history.

But the longer I sat in the icy water, the better I felt. I scrubbed my skin with the milky soap, feeling sand scour my skin, rubbing until my skin turned red and was tender to the touch. Until it felt
clean
.

Then I tackled my hair. I could feel the cut, and took pains to avoid it.

“You doing okay, Charley?” Thad called. “Still conscious?”

“Fine.”

“Let me know if you need help.” I heard the laughter in his voice.

“I’ve got it, thanks. You know, I
have
taken a bath before, even though I may not have looked like it.”

Now Thad laughed out loud.

After I rinsed my hair, it felt like wet straw, and I knew it would be a nightmare to untangle without conditioner. Then I realized I didn’t even have a brush. But maybe Thad did. His handy satchel seemed full of tricks, like an island version of a magic hat.

I left the water, toweled off, and dressed quickly in the fresh clothes. Same material as before, only this time it was a halter top and a piece of cloth that I guessed was a skirt. No underwear.
Does everyone here go commando?
I wondered, wrapping the skirt around my waist. As I tied it tight, I laughed. It was shorter than the ones I was returning to Target, the crazy-short minis that had landed me here in the first place.

“What’s so funny?” Thad asked.

“I think Nil has a sense of humor,” I said as I gave my skirt a dirty look. “A twisted one.”

“You catch on fast.”

I looked back at the clothes I’d been wearing, wondering if I could wear the shorts instead, but now that I was clean, I saw how filthy my old clothes—or rather, Kevin’s—were. Too yucky to be an option, that was for sure. The shorts were so grimy they made my island mini look good by comparison: a sad fact if there ever was one.

“Are you dressed yet? Clearly these trees are fascinating, but if you’re decent…” He trailed off.

“I’m decent.”
Sort of, excluding my teeny mini
. “You can turn around now.”

“How’re you feeling?” Thad’s eyes went straight to my legs.

Embarrassed.

“Better,” I said. “It feels great to be clean. Thanks for the help.”

“I didn’t help. But I offered, remember?” He grinned.

I groaned. “You know what I meant.”

He grinned wider.

Definitely dangerous.

Changing the subject, I said, “I take it there are cows on the island?” I pointed at my sandals. “And goats? And…” I hesitated, not wanting to sound like a looney tune. “Zebras?”

“Could be.” Thad shrugged. “We’ve got cows, chickens, goats, and for some reason, lots of cats. I’m not sure who made the sandals. Lately we’ve been focused on making more clothes. We’re low. We use paper trees.”

“Paper trees?”

“I’m sure there’s some proper botanical name, but no one here knows it. We use the bark, for paper and cloth. It’s not the easiest thing you’ve ever done, so we take care of the clothes we have because it’s tough to make more. There are grass skirts, too, but those don’t last long.”

“Grass skirts.” My voice was disbelieving. “Please don’t tell me there are coconut tops.”

Thad laughed. “Only if you want to wear them.”

“No thanks.” I was actually thinking,
Hell, no
, but my daddy was firmly against swearing, except in the most dire of circumstances, like when the Bulldog quarterback got sacked. On second thought, maybe a coconut top did merit a
Hell, no.
Too late now.

Thad picked up the dirty clothes. “Let’s wash them while we’re here, eh?”

I snatched them back. “I’ll do it.”

“What, you think guys can’t do wash?” He did that eyebrow thing again.

No
,
I’m embarrassed to have you touch my smelly clothes
. Thad’s offer felt strangely intimate and more than a little awkward. But before I could protest again he’d already flicked the bandana out of my hand and was expertly scrubbing it in the water.

Following his lead, I washed the shorts. Soon everything smelled like coconut-lime shower gel from Bath & Body Works.

“Who makes the soap?” I asked.

“Li. She’s crazy good with floral stuff. She’s from Beijing. She doesn’t speak much English, but we get the gist of it. Her sandsoap’s the best. I’m not sure if she already knew how to make it, or if she learned from Ramia, but no one makes soap like Li.”

“Where’s Ramia?”

“Gone.”

Thad wrung out the cloth as he stood. I did the same, but when I got to my feet, the world swayed.

He caught my elbow. “Don’t fall down on me again.”

“I won’t.” I said, trying not to snap. I hated feeling weak, although I was. The pressure of Thad’s hand on my elbow competed with the pulse in my temple, then the wooziness passed. “I’m okay. Just stood up too fast.”

The pressure on my elbow vanished.

I changed the subject, determined to get myself under control. “Hey, you don’t happen to have a brush, do you?”

“How about a comb?” He reached into his satchel and pulled out the most beautiful wooden comb I’d ever seen. Hand carved, it had thick tines, rubbed smooth.

“Wow. I’ve never seen anything like it.” I ran my fingers over the silky wood.

“Miguel’s handiwork. He’s the best carver in the City.”

“Who else is in the City?” I sat on Thad’s rock and began wrestling with my hair. “And how many other cities are there?”

“None. Just Nil City. The island’s not that big. And the number of people changes. Right now there’s me, Natalie, Rives, Jason, Li, Talla, Raj, Heesham, Samuel…” Thad counted on his fingers as he spoke. “And you make twenty-one.”

Taking a break, I rested my shaking hands in my lap, wondering exactly how hard I’d hit my head. I was
tired
.

“Charley, no offense, but you look like you’re gonna collapse. If you want, I’ll finish combing your hair.” He stuck out his hand, gesturing for the comb.

I stared at his outstretched hand, totally floored.

I
loved
getting my hair brushed. More than getting my back scratched, more than getting a massage, more than anything, and I’d always dreamed about having a cute boy brush my hair.

Thad had just served up my secret fantasy on an island platter.

CHAPTER

13

THAD

DAY 279, EARLY MORNING

It was a serious WTF moment in my own head.

I couldn’t believe I’d just offered to comb her hair. But she did look ready to take a header any second. Make that another header. She still had a nasty lump from yesterday. Her coloring had paled, or maybe that was because I’d just offered to comb her hair
. Seriously, Thad, WTF?

Charley’s eyes were glued to the comb, like she was weighing whether to say yes. Like she was wondering why the hell I’d asked.

Maybe she thinks my post-Nil plan is to become a professional hairstylist.

It took all I had not to laugh, but I didn’t want Charley to think I was laughing at
her
. My post-Nil plan involved boards and snow, sponsors and races, not a monotonous job that stuck me indoors doing the same dull crap, day in and day out, like crunching numbers or styling hair. But after nine months on Nil, my well-crafted plan felt more like a fading pipe dream. Blurry, and distant. And possibly already shot.

I no longer felt like laughing.

Charley looked up and smiled. God, she was beautiful. “Okay.” She handed me the comb. “Thanks.”

I moved behind her, glad she couldn’t see my face. She didn’t say another word. I had no clue what she was thinking; she was impossible to read.

This was a first for me, combing a girl’s hair. I really didn’t know why I’d offered, and as sure as the Canucks need a decent defenseman, nine months ago I never would have. But it felt … right. And after 278 days here, I didn’t have much to lose. Just a no.

But Charley had said yes.

I swept her hair away from her neck. Drying quickly, her dark hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders. I worked slowly, sucked into the moment. Her head was tilted slightly to one side, but she didn’t move. I combed until Charley’s hair was perfect, like her.

“All done,” I said.

“Thanks.” Her voice sounded thick, like she’d been thinking of home.

“Ready to head back?”
Say no. Say not yet. Say anything but yes.

Because I wasn’t ready. Not ready to leave this moment. Not ready to introduce the ugliness of Nil. I wanted to hang out with Charley—just Charley. I wanted to know this cool girl who’d survived solo for twelve days, and who’d made me laugh more in twenty-four hours than I had in months. And suddenly I wanted it more than anything else I’d wanted in the last 278 days.

“Ready,” she said.
Damn
.

“So,” I said as we walked back, “where were you when the gate hit?”

“In the Target parking lot. I was about to return some stuff I didn’t need,” she said, pulling on her skirt. “You know how Target sells everything.” She cocked her head at me. “Or maybe you don’t. I don’t know if Target’s in Canada, but they sell everything from board games to bikinis. Half the stuff they sell is as useful as a back pocket on a shirt, my dad says, but before you know it, your cart’s full.” Charley grinned, but my thoughts were stuck on the potent image of her in a bikini.

“Anyway”—she waved her hand—“it was hotter than an Easy-Bake Oven. That’s Georgia in August for you.” She laughed, then her smile faded. “I remember seeing the ground shimmer, like a desert oasis. Then it
moved
, and the next thing I knew, I was on fire. Burning, then freezing, and then I was here. Well, not here.” She swept her hand around us, her grin wry. “But you know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean.” I returned her half grin.

She looked thoughtful. “It’s one of those weird moments you’ll never forget. I mean, it’s so clear. The Target sign, the heat. Like I remember exactly where I was when I heard about the mega quake that leveled most of LA. I’ll never look at Target the same.”

“An earthquake hit LA?”

Charley nodded. “Last month. It was huge, seven point something. It was awful.”