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9

DRAMATIC TEENAGERS

Through the slats of the white vinyl blinds, I could see palm trees. They rustled in the wind, backdropped by an impossibly blue sky. Big puffy white clouds chased one another across the window and out of view. Somewhere nearby a bird chirped happily. Where the hell was I? Why was the window on the wrong side of the bed? What was that incessant beeping and why wouldn't it stop?

The brightness of the sun was too much. I turned my head away from the window and felt a tug on my neck, like something was stuck to the skin there. I reached my hand up to inspect and froze. Sitting at the end of my bed--a hospital bed, I now realized with a jolt--was Sawyer Hathaway, his hands clasped together under his chin. He was wearing a tuxedo shirt open over his bare chest, along with a pair of blue scrubs. His light blond hair was a tousled mess, as if it had air dried hours ago and not seen a comb since.

"Sawyer?" I croaked.

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His gray eyes popped open and relief flooded his face. "You're awake." He stood up and moved so close to the head of the bed that I could see the flecks of brown in his irises. "Are you okay?"

As if that was even worth discussing. I simply stared up at him. "You saved my life."

Ablush lit his chiseled cheeks. He gripped the metal guardrail at the side of my bed, his knuckles white. "How do you feel?"

"What's this thing on my neck?" I asked, lifting my hand.

I winced in pain and my arm dropped back down again. My muscles felt like lifeless bags of flour, as if I'd spent an entire day in the weight room at Easton. I tried to move my legs. Same thing.

"I can't move," I whimpered, closing my eyes.

"You were treading water for three hours," Sawyer said.

"Three hours?" My eyes popped open again. "How did you even find me?"

Sawyer pulled his chair from the foot of the bed and sat right next to me. He clasped his hands and rested his elbows on his thighs, leaning forward.

"When Upton couldn't find you at the party he got worried and sent everyone out to search the boat," he explained. His voice sounded pinched. Like he was fighting for control. "No one could find you anywhere and Noelle lost it. Her dad insisted that the police send out search boats, and we all grabbed whatever boats we could find and searched too." He unclasped his hands and rubbed them over his knees. "I was in a boat with Noelle and my dad and brother, so it's not like it was just me who saved you."

"Please," I said, my heart welling as I remembered the fear, the

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sadness, the resignation. "I was just about to give up. If it wasn't for you ..." I took a deep, broken breath. "Thankyou, Sawyer."

His face lit up. For a moment it looked like he was trying to squash it, but the smile won out. Sawyer Hathaway looked me in the eye and smiled. It was only the second time I'd seen him do that since I'd arrived on the island. It was a very nice smile.

"You're welcome," he said simply.

"What time is it?" I asked. "Actually. . . what day is it?"

Sawyer smirked. "It's December twenty-seventh. And it's a little after three. You've been sleeping all day."

I took a deep breath. I felt like I could sleep for ten days.

A hefty nurse with dark skin and long black hair stepped into the room, wearing a starchy-looking pink uniform. She widened her eyes at us, then angled her head back into the hallway.

"She's awake!"

When she walked back into the room, she was followed by two police officers, one of them black, the other white. They were both tall, the black man broad and muscular, while his counterpart was more wiry. Both had stern, no-nonsense looks on their faces that made me instantly feel as if I was in trouble. They wore light blue polo shirts with blue shorts that showed their knees and leg hair, and sort of undermined their authority. I glanced at Sawyer, who had sat up straight at their entrance. His gaze was fixed on the cops.

"Good afternoon, Miss Brennan!" the nurse said in a Caribbean accent, walking around to the far side of my bed, across from Sawyer. "We are very happy to see you up and awake!"

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"Thank you," I replied, keeping one eye on the cops while she wrapped a blood pressure gauge around my upper arm. I realized for the first time that I was wearing a thin hospital gown, underpants, and nothing else. No bra to speak of. Then I realized with a start that when Sa


Tags: Kate Brian Private Young Adult