T.J. waited while I dry-heaved, and then I grabbed one edge of the blanket and helped him drag Mick to the grave and lower him into the hole. We covered him with dirt and stood up.

Silent tears rolled down my face. “He was already dead when we hit the water.” I said it firmly, like a statement.

“Yes,” T.J. agreed.

It started to rain so we went back to the life raft and crawled inside. The canopy kept us dry, but I shivered. I pulled the blanket over us – the one we’d now be sharing – and we slept.

When we woke up, T.J. and I gathered breadfruit and coconut. Neither of us said much.

“Here.” T.J. handed me a piece of coconut.

I pushed his hand away. “No, I can’t. You eat it.” My stomach churned. I’d never get the image of Mick out of my head.

“Is your stomach still upset?”

“Yes.”

“Try some of the coconut water,” he said, passing it to me.

I lifted the plastic container to my lips and took a drink.

“Did that go down okay?”

I nodded. “Maybe I’ll just stick to this for a while.”

“I’m going to get some firewood.”

“Okay.”

He had only been gone a few minutes when I felt the trickle.

Oh God, no.

Hoping for a false alarm, I walked in the opposite direction from where T.J. had gone and yanked my jeans down. There, on the white cotton crotch of my underwear was the proof that I’d just gotten my period.

I hurried to the lean-to and grabbed my long-sleeved T-shirt. Back in the woods, I tore off a strip, balled it up, and shoved it in my underwear.

I need this miserable day to be over.

When the sun went down, the mosquitoes feasted on my arms.

“You must have decided being cooler was worth a few bites,” T.J. said, when he noticed me slapping at them. He had put on his sweatshirt and jeans as soon as the bugs came out.

I thought of my long-sleeved shirt, hidden under a bush I only hoped I’d be able to find again.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Chapter 10 – T.J.

We ate nothing but coconut and breadfruit for the next eighteen days and our clothes hung on us. Anna’s stomach growled in her sleep, and I had a constant ache in mine. I doubted the rescuers were still looking for us, and a hollow, empty feeling that had nothing to do with hunger joined the pain in my gut whenever I thought of my family and friends.

I thought it would impress Anna if I could spear a fish. I managed to stab myself in the foot instead, which hurt like hell, not that I let her know.

“I want to put antibiotic ointment on it,” Anna said. She dabbed it on the gash and covered it with a band-aid. She said the island humidity was perfect for germs and the thought of one of us getting an infection scared the crap out of her. “You’ll have to stay out of the water until that heals, T.J. I want to keep it dry.”

Great. No fishing and no swimming.

The days passed slowly. Anna got quiet. She slept more, and I caught her wiping her eyes when I came back from collecting firewood or exploring the island. I found her sitting on the beach one day, staring up at the sky.

“It’s easier if you quit thinking they’re coming back,” I told her.

She looked up at me. “So I should just wait for a plane to randomly fly overhead someday?”

“I don’t know, Anna.”

I sat down beside her. “We could leave on the life raft,” I said. “Load it with food and use the plastic containers to collect rainwater. Just start paddling.”

“What if we ran out of food or something happened to the raft? It’d be suicide, T.J. We’re obviously not in the flight path for any of the inhabited islands, and there’s no guarantee a plane would fly over. These islands are spread over thousands of miles of water. I can’t be out there. Not after seeing Mick. I feel safer here, on land. And I know they’re not coming back, but saying it out loud seems like giving up.”

“I used to feel that way, but I don’t anymore.”

Anna studied me. “You’re very adaptable.”

I nodded. “We live here now.”

Chapter 11 – Anna

T.J. yelled my name. I was sitting next to the lean-to, staring off into space. He ran toward me, dragging a suitcase behind him.

“Anna, is it yours?”

I stood up and raced to meet him halfway. “Yes!”

Please let it be the right one.

I threw myself down on the sand in front of the suitcase and yanked on the zipper, then flipped open the lid and smiled.

I pushed my wet clothes aside and searched for my jewelry. I found the Ziploc bag, opened it, and poured everything out. Sifting through it, my fingers closed around a chandelier earring, and I held it up triumphantly for T.J. to see.

He smiled, studying the curved wire the earring hung on. “That will make an excellent fish hook, Anna.”

I took everything out of the suitcase: Toothbrush and two tubes of regular toothpaste, plus a tube of tooth-whitening Crest, four bars of soap, two bottles of body wash, shampoo and conditioner, lotion, shaving cream, and my razor and two packages of replacement blade cartridges. Three deodorants - two solids and one gel - baby oil and cotton balls for taking off my makeup, cherry Chap Stick, and – thank you Jesus – two boxes of tampons. Nail polish and polish remover, tweezers, Q-tips, Kleenex, a bottle of Woolite for hand washing my swimsuits, and two tubes of Coppertone with an SPF of 30. T.J. and I were already so dark I didn’t think the sunscreen would make a difference.

“Wow,” T.J. said when I finished sorting all the toiletries.

“The island we’re supposed to be on didn’t have a drugstore,” I explained. “I checked.”

I’d also packed a comb and brush, hair clips and ponytail holders, a deck of cards, my datebook and a pen, two pairs of sunglasses – Ray Ban aviators and a pair with big black frames – and a straw cowboy hat I always wore to the pool.

I picked up each item of clothing, wringing the water out and spreading it on the sand to dry. Four swimsuits, cotton lounge pants, shorts, tank tops, T-shirts, and a sundress. My tennis shoes and several pairs of socks. A blue REO Speedwagon concert T-shirt, and a gray Nike one with a red swoosh that said Just Do It on the front. They were size large, and I wore them to sleep in.

I threw my underwear and bras back in the suitcase and closed the lid. I’d deal with those later.

“We’re lucky this is the suitcase that washed up,” I said.

“What was in the other one?”

“Your text books and assignments.” I’d made careful lesson plans, organizing all the work T.J. would need to complete. The novels I’d planned to read over the summer were in that suitcase, too, and I thought longingly of how much they would have helped pass the time. I looked at T.J., my expression hopeful. “Maybe we’ll find your suitcase too.”

“Not a chance. My parents took it with them. That’s why I had some clothes and my toothbrush in my backpack. My mom wanted me to have something with me in case we got delayed and had to spend the night somewhere.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh. Imagine that.”

***

I gathered up everything I needed. “I’m going to take a bath,” I said. “You can never go down to the water when I’m down there. Are we clear on that?”

T.J. nodded his head. “I won’t. I promise. I’m gonna see if I can make a fishing pole while you’re gone. I’ll go when you get back.”