Free On the Island by Tracey Garvis Graves Page B

believe it will be October soon,” I said. “The leaves are probably starting to change back home.”
    I loved fall—football games, taking Joe and Chloe to the pumpkin patch, and feeling a chill in the air. Those were some of my favorite things.
    I stared at the palm trees, their green fronds rippling in the breeze. Sweat trickled slowly down the side of my face, and the constant smell of coconut on my hands reminded me of suntan lotion.
    It would always be summer on the island.

Chapter 14
    —
    T.J.
    The rain came down sideways. Thunder crashed, and lightning lit up the sky. The wind shook the life raft, and I worried it might relocate us halfway down the beach. I made a mental note:
Anchor life raft to something tomorrow.
    “Are you awake?” I asked Anna.
    “Yes.”
    The storm raged for hours. We huddled together with the blanket pulled over our heads. The thin nylon covering the roof and hanging down the sides of the life raft was all that protected us from the lightning, which was like having no protection at all. We didn’t say much, just waited for it to end, and when it finally did we went back to sleep, exhausted.
    The next morning, Anna brought back several small green coconuts blown off the tree by the storm. We split them open. The meat tasted sweet, and the water wasn’t bitter like the brown coconuts.
    “These are so good,” Anna said.
    The lean-to had fallen apart and our fire had gone out, so I made another one, this time using my shoelace. I tied it to the opposite ends of a curved stick. Making a loop in the lace, I threaded another stick through so that it stood perpendicular to the chunk of wood I rested it on.
    “What are you doing?” Anna asked.
    “I’m going to use this to spin the stick. That’s what the guy on TV did.”
    I adjusted the tension on the string and held the stick at different angles. It took a while before I could get the stick to spin fast enough, but once it did, I got smoke in about fifteen minutes, and flames pretty soon after that.
    “Hey,” Anna said. “That was a great idea.”
    “Thanks.” I piled on tinder and watched the fire grow. Anna and I put the lean-to back together.
    I wiped the sweat out of my eyes and said, “I hope that’s the worst storm we ever have.” I leaned the last stick up against the lean-to. “Because I don’t know what we’re going to do for shelter if it’s not.”

    Anna left to take a bath. I looked through her suitcase, trying to find her REO Speedwagon T-shirt. She told me I could wear it—and the Nike one, too—since they both fit me. I didn’t see the shirt, so I dug a little deeper.
    There were two boxes of tampons shoved under some shorts.
    What’s she going to do when those run out?
    I moved some things around and noticed her bras, folded and tucked into a neat pile. The black one was on top. I picked up a bottle of vanilla lotion, flipped open the cap, and sniffed.
    That’s why she sometimes smells like cupcakes.
    I opened a round plastic container. It had tiny pills inside, in a circle marked with days of the week. Five pills remained. It took me a while to figure out they were birth control pills. I found two more unopened packages.
    Anna wouldn’t mind that I was looking through her suitcase—I kept my clothes in there, too, because we used my backpack to carry firewood—but she probably wouldn’t want me touching all her stuff. I started to shut the lid but then I spotted her underwear. They were at the bottom of the suitcase, next to her tennis shoes. I looked over my shoulder, then grabbed a pink pair and held them up.
    I wonder if you can see through these when she’s wearing them.
    I put them back and picked up a black thong.
    Very sexy. But I bet it’s totally uncomfortable.
    I touched a red pair, and looked closer at the little black bow in the center of the waistband.
    Wow. Now that would be a hot present.
    Then I scooped up five or six pairs at once, buried my face in them, and inhaled.
    “What