Riley

Whirlpool. Noun. [hwurl-pool]. A rapidly rotating mass of water in a river or sea into which objects may be drawn, typically caused by the meeting of conflicting currents.

I can't tell if Ross likes me or if he thinks I'm a complete psycho. Granted, the dinosaur question was out of left field, but I was trying to lighten the mood. I can tell he doesn't take my inquisitory questions lightly, which I admire, but we also don't know each very well, i.e. at all, so I feel like I went too far by asking such personal questions.

But the way he was looking at me in the ocean--I could have sworn something passed between us. I'm not sure if I annoy him or challenge him or surprise him. Maybe a little of all three. I'm so glad he didn't let me leave, though. Even though it's getting later and I have a shift at the pizza shop in the morning, I don't want to leave. There's something kind of magical about tonight and I'd like to stay here in the magic for another hour or so.

Ross walks beside me, all grace and agility, his shoulders brushing mine. "So I don't get it. Why don't you like it here? You're not like me. You haven't been stranded on a literal deserted island your entire life. Most people love LBI."

"Well, I'm not most people."

"Not impressed by our white sand beaches and perfect waves?" Ross teases.

"Like I said before, it takes a lot to impress me." The wind catches my hair and tosses it in Ross's direction, so I tuck it behind my ear. "I didn't want to come here for the summer; it didn't really matter where 'here' was."

Ross tilts his head, his pale blue eyes glowing against the black night. "Where would you rather be?"
I search my mind but come up blank. And I thought I was the one who asked the hard questions. I can't imagine anywhere I'd like to be right now except maybe home, but I don't even have a home.

"That's a-a really good question."

How can I be discontent with my life when I can't imagine any place I'd rather be? I want to be independent of my parents and on my own, but not alone. I want the freedom to pursue my nonexistent dreams but the security that comes from belonging. Are they mutually exclusive? I wouldn't know. I've never had either.

"But it doesn't matter," I say, deflecting the question. "I'm stuck here."

"So you might as well make the most of it."

"Are you always such an optimist?"
"I'd call myself a realist. You can't do anything about the fact that you're here, so why be miserable?"

I roll my eyes. "Well, I work at a pizza shop all the time, I almost drowned in the ocean, there a thousand tourists with screaming kids, I don't know anyone--"

"That's not true," he interrupts. "You know me."

I scrunch up my nose. "I really don't. I didn't even know your last name until an hour ago."

He tilts his head to look at me. "There's more than one way to know a person."

With electricity buzzing in my ears, I realize we've come to a stop in the middle of the beach with no one else in sight. Wind catches in Ross's hair, sending a blonde curl dancing across his tanned forehead. I think I know what he means. I couldn't tell you Ross's favorite color or the name of his dad, but I've learned things more meaningful than empty facts. He has a restless soul that longs to escape, yet he remains tied to this island.

There may be more than one way to know a person, but I'm certain I know Ross.

A sliver of fear slices through me. I'm getting too close to this charming boy with the kind eyes that look towards lofty dreams. I turn away from him suddenly and keep walking, sand spraying my legs.

Ross catches up with me. "So you'll give the island a chance?"
My gaze jerks to him. "I never said that."

"C'mon, Riley. What could possible go wrong?"

"Oh, I don't know. I could drown. Catch hypothermia. Spray ketchup all over myself."

"Think about it this way: How much worse can your summer get?"

Despite my best efforts, I feel a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. He does have a point. I don't hate the island half as much as I pretend and there's no point looking forward to an empty future.

"I mean, it could probably get worst, but I don't want to be pessimistic."

"That's the spirit."

We walk in silence as we go, and I can't help but keep looking at Ross with his deep dimples, blue eyes, and long lashes. Even though he seems relaxed, there's something beneath his cool facade that I can't quite figure out. Why is a twenty-something guy with his wit and looks stranded on a tiny island working in a warehouse and as a lifeguard? What sorrow ties him to the island?

"We should probably head back soon," Ross says, interrupting the peace of the night.

Do we have to? There must be something wrong with me because I'm choosing socialization over sleep. Nothing ever comes before sleep--except, apparently, Ross Montgomery.

"Holy crap." Ross checks his phone. "It's almost one in the morning."

I grin at him. "Time flies when you're having fun."

Even though I lace the words with sarcasm, I realize I actually mean them. Against my best efforts, I'm enjoying myself.

"So I guess I'll have to start eating pizza more often if I want to see you again."

My heart beats into overdrive at the words--he wants to see me again.

"If? I figured my delightful company would have charmed the pants off you by now."

By the time I've thought through what I'm saying, it's too late. Charmed the pants off him? You wish. Ross just raises his eyebrows, a grin playing at his lips.

"Not yet."

I turn away, my face burning. I have a sinking feeling that I haven't seen the last of Ross Montgomery; in some ways, I think I've barely seen the beginning of him.

"Tell you what, since you obviously love spending time with me, we should make a trade."

It's my turn to raise my eyebrows at him. "What kind of trade?"

"I'll show you all the reasons I love the island and try to convince you to love it too. In return, you show me pictures and postcards from all the places you've been so I can live vicariously through you."

My heart swells at the thought of spending more nights like this. It's not just the charm and the jokes; it's the deep questions and soul-burning looks traded through the darkness. These moments under the moon-lit sky intoxicate me and transform me into someone I don't even recognize. Someone curious and alive and maybe even happy.

"What do I get out of this?" I cross my arms over my chest.

"The delight of my company." I roll my eyes. "Seriously though, this island is more than it seems. Let me prove it to you."

As I stare up at him, I find that I couldn't care less about the stupid island. Ross himself is more than he seems, and he's what I really want to explore.

"Why do you care so much about where I've traveled?"

"I've never been anywhere, but you've been everywhere. You've lived the life I've always wanted."
I picture the album in my luggage full of postcards from the places I've been. I never saw much value it as any more than a sentimental keepsake, but in Ross's eyes, it's a treasure.

"You've always wanted to move eighteen times and be abandoned by your parents on a desert island?" I say, cynicism barbing my words.

I'd trade places with Ross in a minute. At least he has a family, a real family. At least he has friends and history and memories tied to a home. My memories are scattered across the globe, disassociated snapshots of where I've been. Nothing in my past tells me who I am or who I will be. I'm adrift at sea, flotsam and jetsam left to the will of the waves.

"Riley, I don't just want to know where you've been. I--I want to see it all through your eyes."

I shiver, but not from the cold. No one's ever wanted to understand my point of view before. My guidance counselors couldn't figure out why I was so bright but so disconnected from everything. My parents didn't understand why I threw fits when they were late to pick me up or I came home to a locked house. My friends never cared why I started crying every time they were busy with their families. If I'm honest, no one has ever taken more than a passing interest in me. I'm a nothing, a ghost on the outside of society, the sort of person you see without seeing.

"Why don't you go and see the world yourself?"

"And miss out on your colorful commentary? Never."
I want to ask Ross why he hasn't left the island, but I remind myself I've only known him for three days. You have all summer to find out.

"Fine, it's a deal."

"Do you work Wednesday morning?" he asks.

"At ten."

"Perfect. I start at nine. Meet me here at seven."

"What are we going to do?" I ask, itching with curiosity to know where he'll take me.

I wonder if he'll invite Javier and Lucy and the others, but I secretly hope he doesn't. I don't know them yet, not the way something inside of me knows Ross.

"You're terrible at surprises, aren't you?"

"The last time I got a surprise, my parents told me I was living here for the summer."

"By the end of this summer, that'll be the best surprise you were ever given."

Ross and I reach the stairs that lead back to the rest of the island, and I realize I have to come back to reality, full of pizza sauce, too much dough, and filthy dishes. I like the reality of the wind and the waves and Ross so much better.

Instead of walking up the stairs, Ross stops and stares at me, his eyes intent and warm against the black, starlit night. There's a kindness to his face with the deep, permanent dimples and laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. In some ways, he looks so much older than his twenty-something years.

"What do you see when you look at the ocean?" Ross asks suddenly, looking over my head to gaze at the sea.

"What sort of question is that?"

"It's no weirder than you asking me my favorite dinosaur."

"Fine." I close my eyes for a moment and picture the expanse of the sea, frothing and foaming with the undulating tides. "I see--I see mystery. A deep, impenetrable enigma with the power to destroy someone in a moment. It's...it's desolate and powerful and dangerous."

I open my eyes again and Ross draws closer to me, eyes thoughtful as he nods. "All I see when I look at the ocean is--is something larger than myself. A reminder of how little I am, how insignificant and unimportant. That I have only a few short years to try to make something out of my life, to do something or be someone worth remembering."

His words reflect the difference between our outlooks on life. Where I harbor fear, Ross's idealism and curiosity and bravery grow. I see danger; he sees opportunity. But I see timidity in Ross's answer too; while I'm afraid of being destroyed, he's afraid of his own insignificance. In all reality, compared to the ocean, we're nothing more than two grains of sand.

A gust of wind rips between us, drawing strands of my hair into Ross's face. He reaches for the wind-whisked tendril and tucks it behind my ear, his touch burning a trail behind it. His hand lingers on my face, framing my chin.

When I try to speak, my voice trembles. "Wh-what do you want to do that's worth remembering?"

"I want to live," he murmurs under his breath.

And I realize this is what we have in common; we've walked through our lives as shells, never actually living, and for some reason, being around him makes me want to wake up from this sleepwalk.

"I want to live too," I whisper.

And so I do. I lean up and kiss Ross, our lips first brushing and then savoring and then devouring each other like we've become each other's oceans. There's a tidal wave in my chest that threatens to overflow, pushing me closer and closer to Ross as he swallows me whole.

~~~~~

Surprise! What'd you think of this chapter and what's happening between Riley and Ross? What about their trade to share the island and the world with each other? Thanks for reading! 

~ Hannah