My head is splitting. I got so drunk that I barely remember what I said when I went to talk to Kai. But I do remember throwing up and him carrying me to my bungalow.
Jesus. I embarrassed myself again. More importantly, I feel like I did exactly what I had four years ago—lost control and ended up with my face down.
And Kai took care of it.
I search for him around the beach as we eat breakfast. I want to find him and apologize, but he is nowhere to be seen.
Ty is trying to make small talk with Dani. She never says much, nor does she say anything when I ask her about the mainland. No family—surprise-surprise. But there is something else. And there is Ty, smiling and chatting her up. He clearly likes her.
It’s our third day here, and I already feel like we are blending in. Shorts. Tank tops. Bikinis underneath. I have two. The one I am wearing is lime green with strawberries. It makes me smile and feel guilty. The tropical island has that effect when you know what the rest of the world looks like.
Maddy, Kristen, Ya-Ya, Katura, Dani, and I go to the garden, where we help weed and collect vegetables. The lunch is a salad with everything possible mixed into it.
“We buy protein powder from town. It helps to substitute for the lack of meat. Meat is expensive,” Maddy explains. She is the one who talks most of the time. The rest of the girls just study us.
“Are there wild animals on the island?” Katura asks.
Ya-Ya, who looks like the queen of hip-hop with her big afro twisted into a large bun on top of her head, snorts. “What, you gonna run around like Katniss?” She rolls her eyes at Katura, who ignores her.
Maddy smiles. “We are notthatefficient here.”
No sign of Kai. I ask Ty about him. He shrugs.
“Check the workshop,” he says.
“What’s the workshop?” Katura is curious.
And when we finish washing dishes, Ty takes me, Dani, and Katura for another tour.
We walk toward a large shed that’s separated from all the structures by a patch of palm trees.
“It used to be a utility building,” Ty explains. “We use it to build things, make repairs. Kai is great with his hands. We all learned to be. Jeok takes care of the solar panels and wiring. Guff is in charge of any construction. We also make weapons.”
“Weapons,” Katura echoes, her eyes lighting up with curiosity.
“Yeah.” Ty smiles. “Ask Kai. That’s his hobby. He’ll tell you all about it. Ladies…” Ty bows gracefully as he opens the shed door to let us in.
It’s dim inside, and it takes me a moment to adjust my eyesight after walking in from the bright sun outside. And when I do, there he is.
Kai sits on a stool next to a desk and sands a piece of wood.
He is shirtless, with his back to us, his tattoos rippling from the movement, smoke curling in the air around him.
Dave Mathew’s Band trickles softly from a speaker. It’s one of his favorite. He likes rock music. He likes building things. His dad was a handyman who also used to repair and build cars and remodel houses and taught Kai all sorts of things since childhood.
I know all that because I used to be obsessed with trying to find out everything I could about Kai. He was an outlier. From a middle-class family. Scholarship to Deene because he was a wrestling prodigy.
That was what got him into Archer’s circle. Archer always gathered the best around him. Usually, the richest too.
Kai was not. He drove an old sports bike instead of an Audi or a Porsche like the rest. Archer, of course, drove his favorite Aston Martin Vulcan. Kai wore expensive clothes, provided by sponsors, but didn’t have the gadgets or a fancy crib in California or a condo in Manhattan.
But here is the thing about Kai—he never tried to fit in, didn’t ask for company, didn’t seek attention. If something wasn’t up to his taste, he let you know. He came into Archer’s circle effortlessly, didn’t chase the elite gang, didn’t follow the stupid trends, and more often did things on his own instead of following the wind.
I think that was why he and Archer became so close. Archer, who was used to others’ ass-kissing and bowing in his presence, found something in Kai that couldn’t be bought or traded for favors—honesty and unbiased friendship. Something hard to come by in the world of wealth and fame.
Until a girl came between them.
And here I am.