“Wow, there are soooo many yachts,” I said while taming my long hair whipped into a frenzy by the sea breeze.

It was the next day, and the tender ship that fetched us from the cruise ship made its way to the shores of Catalina Island, bouncing gently over the waves. The other passengers and I gazed at the waters accented with lots of parked boats mostly organized into rows. I think I spotted a couple of dolphins. There were also some people on jet skis.

I hadn’t been to this island before, but I knew what to expect. I researched about it yesterday when a complicated and probably stupid plan occurred to me while I was with Jubjub and Imani. Catalina Island was going to be the place for a gamble, mind games, and taking the initiative.

A true vacation.

Given that I’ve started planning for after Red Island, trying to befriend Yara and stuff, it occurred to me that I should’ve planned for what to do there. I got nothing beyond killing everyone and destroying everything. No specifics. I should prepare some ingredients.

Mise en place, as they say in fancy restaurant talk.

The waters around Catalina Island were super clean and blue. Going inland, sandy beaches turned into concrete, bricks, and wood, the beautiful buildings looking right out of a postcard. As a backdrop to the community by the beach, mountains rose, ringed with tiers carrying more buildings. Lots of fancy houses. Could be considered mansions, probably. I read that the cost of living here was far from cheap. Above the buildings on the mountainside was all earth and patchy grass accented by shrubs and trees. Not much shade.

Interesting that the island wasn’t foresty like those in the Pacific. It looked more like the desert grasslands of California turned into rolling hills and mountains. I didn’t like that very much, but it suited my plans. The beaches looked nice though.

Soon, there’d be bitches on the beaches—I was referring to Deen and me if that wasn’t clear. Lame pun.

“Do you have a yacht?” I asked Deen.

She shook her head. “Why would I have a yacht? Those are for sailing and, uh, hosting parties. Mostly the second one. I don’t do the former and barely any of the latter. I don’t think I’ve hosted a party since I started law school.”

“Oops, wrong question. Does your family own yachts, with an ‘s’?”

“I don’t know how many. Like, we have two or three docked at the La Esperanza Yacht Club. My sister stays at one of them sometimes.”

I rolled my eyes. Deen said it in such a matter-of-factly way that it wasn’t even bragging. And I expected as much. “You don’t even know how many of your family’s yachts are there in La Esperanza?”

“I don’t go to the Yacht Club,” Deen said, shrugging. “I might run into my sister doing some business with her boyfriend or boyfriends, with an ‘s’.”

“The number of yachts that your family owns and the number of boyfriends your sister has—the last two unsolved math problems of our day.”

We reached a pier that extended from the island like a ship’s bulbous bow or the male organ Reo liked to compare it to. A gangplank was lowered—wow, I know boat terms—and we got out of our ship. It was only Deen and I with this batch of passengers because our rooms were much more expensive, so we got to leave first. The rest of the hero wannabes—the peasants—will come with the next tender ships.

There wasn’t an actual class system for going to Catalina; it was just by decks. It so happens that some decks have more expensive rooms than others. The really VIP people had separate ships taking them to the island. Reminds me of the Titanic, where the first-class people had dibs on the lifeboats.

Dunno if that was what truly happened or if the movie took liberties.

From the pier, we strolled along the promenade going to the heart of the small town of Avalon—cool ass name. Birds chirped and dozens of boats lolled gently on the waters to our right. Besides passengers from the cruise ship, there were also people coming on ships from Long Island. This was a very touristy place.

“Why do rich people love yachts so much?” I asked Deen. “Are they like diamond rings which were artificially pushed to—”

“I don’t know,” said Deen. “I’ll buy you a yacht if you want to test it out, but for now, are you sure about contacting Yara?”

“We’ve been over this already. No danger here, especially with you along with me. We’re going to join Yara for lunch, maybe a tour around the town. Be best friends. She’s going to… that place we want to go to, and we need the schedule of their departure. This is just a modified ‘Bianca plan’. I’m the Adumbrae, which I really am.”

“Shush on that,” Deen hissed, pinching my arm.

“And you’re the sidekick,” I said, giggling. “For once. Just a joke, of course. I don’t think you’re legally allowed to be a sidekick. Maybe if we’re in Mexico, because of like international laws and—”

“You’re not taking this seriously, Erind. You’re being reckless here.”

“Reckless? I don’t think so.” I wriggled my nose at the salty air. Deen was being a helicopter parent again. I thought all this shit through. And more.

“You’re so relaxed despite the danger. Like, you have no hesitation at all putting yourself in these situations.”

Here we go. “What are you talking about?”

Deen lowered her voice as a couple of tourists pulling large luggage bags passed us on their way to the pier. “Erind, I dare you to deny you didn’t have anything to do with Reo finding out where the ships going to the Red Island were hidden.”

“I had something to do with it because I was there when—”

She grabbed my arm like I was a misbehaving child. I was so thin that her hand fully encircled my arm like a manacle. “You know what I’m talking about,” she furiously whispered. “Did you investigate on your own beforehand so you knew to lead Reo there?”

“Nooo…” I said in a tone that made it obvious I was lying.

Deen narrowed her eyes.

I matched her gaze. I didn’t bother denying it because it was obvious anyway. This thing with Yara was also suspicious. Deen and Dario were definitely thinking about the same thing: I set it up in some way.

Deen broke off our staring contest and looked left. I knew she was pissed that I kept secrets from her. This must be why she was a grouch the entire evening yesterday. But I had to do this—I couldn’t stay timid—not only to bring the hero wannabes along for the Red Island ride but also my facial development. I’d find a better term next time.

Like the protagonist following the three-act structure, my face was transforming from meek Erind to somewhat assertive, confident, and active. That last part was important. We were past the mid-point of the movie—there was no turning back here. The main character, yours truly, was going on the assault after being only reactive in the first part of the movie. I couldn’t continue with my background character face as to Deen—and Myra and Johann, to some extent—because of my growing powers and the experiences I’ve been through that she knew about. Character development was required.

This was going to be difficult to keep track of my faces presented to many people.

We walked past a playground with slides and swings, and then a basketball court. The guys playing hoops stopped for a moment to look at Deen, who was still sulking. Deen ignored their attention and looked forward.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

What did she expect to happen by giving me the silent treatment? I wasn’t like a boyfriend who’d come to her on bended knees begging for forgiveness.

“Deen, I had a plan,” I said, following her as she veered away from the waterfront, taking the left path at the fork. We walked down a road parallel to the promenade. “That’s not being reckless. And it turned out to be a success. We found the way to Red Island.”

I expected her to pry about what exactly happened. I was preparing a fake story, but it turned out that wasn’t her issue.

“I know you don’t need me,” she said, dramatically turning to me.

So that’s what this was about? I linked our arms together despite my disgust of human touch. A slight sacrifice for my friend. My pawn.

“Deen, don’t be like that,” I softly said. “That’s why I keep on trying to get us paired. I’m going to face a lot of dangers. I can’t avoid them. Time to face them head-on. And I can’t do it without you by my side.” Bile was rising; a vomit threatened. If the earth opened up and sucked me straight to hell for such I cheesy line, I couldn’t complain.

But it made Deen feel better. She smiled as she said. “I’ll be there for you. You may be stronger than me now, but I can do things you can’t.”

“Like, become a model?”

She lightly squeezed my arm. “Seeing the future.”

“Yeah… I can’t do that.”

“Um, Erind. Do you feel yourself… changing? I’m not talking in a physical sense. Mentally.”

I blinked. I am changing. For one, I was having fun as a not-so-human anymore. But I knew that Deen was talking about something else.

“I’m not changing, Deen,” I said. “I’m reacting—not sure what word to use—to my changing circumstances. My… our surroundings are getting more dangerous, but I’m also becoming powerful. Plus, I’ve survived this far. I have more experience. It follows that I’m less worried about what life throws at me. Very justified confidence isn’t recklessness.”

“I understand that. But you should still exercise prudence. Be more careful because of your changing circumstances. Not care less.”

“I know, Deen. Thanks for the advice.” Getting lectured was annoying. I wanted to call her ‘mom’ and turn the situation into a joke, but I wasn’t going to poke fun at her when she was this serious. I supposed I should appreciate her concern. “What about you then?” I asked as I tried to disentangle my arm from hers. She wouldn’t let me. I gave up. “Shouldn’t you feel safer and confident because of your future-seeing pet?”

She sighed. “I feel more paranoid.”

“I can see that happening. Though, is it really paranoia if this or that dangerous thing was set to happen if you didn’t avoid it?”

“I guess not. Still very stressful. Sometimes it’s better not to have spoilers.”

I patted her arm. “As your best friend, I promise to not contribute to your stress. Let’s focus on this mission, okay? I’ll listen to your warnings, I promise.”

“Dario didn’t stop us pairing up this time,” said Deen. “Should we be worried about that?”

“That’s cuz he didn’t have a legit reason to oppose it,” I replied. “You’re the perfect security blanket for me.”

“I’m not a blanket. Unless you let me hug you.”

“No way. It’s too hot for a hug.” I squinted at the sun. No clouds. Perfect for my plan. “Maybe we can buy an umbrella or those beach hats with wide brims.” Or a flashlight, I added in my head.

“We can do some shopping before our—oh, hang on.” Deen let go of me so she could get her phone from her purse sandwiched between us. “Someone’s calling. It’s Myra.”

I stared at the stores selling touristy stuff while Deen talked to Myra, wondering where I could get a flashlight. This town should have a hardware store. Maybe I should buy a hat too. A portable shade would be a good addition to my ingredients.

I could tell from snippets of Deen’s conversation that it was about Dario. While she was occupied on the phone, I took the lead and made a turn back to the shore. We came to a short strip of the beach that was full of people. There was a funny-looking seal statue. Were there seals around these parts?

“Jubjub is probably on her way,” said Deen after the call ended. “Myra saw Jubjub and Imani head to the lower deck to board the tender ship. Myra couldn’t risk checking the departing passengers without Jubjub seeing her, so she just waited after the ship left. Only Imani was left there.”

“That’s as good a confirmation as any. Jubjub could’ve turned into her shadow form to board the ship, so watching that wouldn’t matter.”

“Your suspicion is right.”

I nonchalantly shrugged. “It just makes sense. No way Jubjub’s staying on board to investigate the bow like she was assigned during our meeting. I’m sure of that. What about Everett? Did he leave on that ship with Jubjub? Or anyone else?”

“No. The rest of our group is coming on the next tender ships.”

“I see. Dario’s going to ask about our location later. He’ll say it’s for Everett to find us—I mean, that too—but it’ll really be for Jubjub.”

During our team meeting yesterday evening, Dario agreed that Deen should go with me. Even if Imani betrayed us, Dario still had to play to Reo and Everet. And maybe Johann—not sure if Dario was aware Johann was with us. I was a normal human in their eyes and Deen was the perfect protection. The Bianca mission was precedent.

Everett was assigned to shadow us as a backup if things got hairy. Reo was teasing Everett about wanting to see Deen in a bikini on the beach, and Dario pounced on it, laughing as he joined in on the joke.

That rang alarm bells. Dario barely jokes. The more serious the situation, the fewer jokes. I couldn’t recall him joking or even laughing during this cruise.

Jubjub was the logical choice for a tailing mission, but Dario didn’t send her. Why?

Dario reasoned that Jubjub’s assignment was infiltrating the bulbous bow of the ship, staking out the special elevator until it went down to the secret level. Technically, a good idea. But Jubjub could’ve done it that same night and tailed us now. Dario added that he was staying on the ship today too, just in case Jubjub needed backup.

That clinched my suspicion. Dickhead Dario wanted to fool us into thinking that he and Jubjub were staying on the ship today. He assumed I’d feel safe enough to do some shenanigans on Catalina while Jubjub spied on me.

He’s not wrong.

“Still a couple of hours until we meet Yara,” said Deen. She stretched her shirt out to show me the straps of her bikini top beneath it. “You promised me we’ll get a tan.”

“What-? Really?” Did Domino promise her that? “But I’m not wearing a swimsuit.”

Deen cupped a hand around her right ear. “Hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“That’s the alarm for shopping time!”

----------------------------------------

I stared at the sign above the counter that said ‘Gus’s Steakhouse and Seafood.’ “I really don’t like an apostrophe and an ‘s’ after an ‘s’. Just feels wrong. Is that even grammatically—? Hey, what are you doing?”

Deen held my arm as she examined it. She gingerly scratched my skin. “I don’t think you got even one percent tanned. We should’ve stayed under the sun a little longer.”

“I already kept my promise,” I said, taking my arm back.

To keep Deen placated and cooperative, I agreed to sunbathe on the condition that there should be no one around. I thought it could be a way out, but Deen said she knew of a spot, having been to this island a few times. Too fucking bad.

While Deen was distracted picking a swimsuit for me, I went to the next store to find a flashlight, mumbling that I was looking for a beach hat. I managed to find a keychain flashlight. Small enough to hide; I just hoped it was strong enough to be useful. I also bought a magnifying glass, a keychain one too. Not sure if this would help.

We rented a golf cart—for some reason, there were barely any cars on the island—and drove to the foot of a random hill. Some hiking later, we reached an outcropping ringed by bushes. I was ready with my excuse of not having sunscreen, but Deen pulled out a bottle from her purse. I took it from her before she could offer to apply it to me.

The sunbathing part wasn’t so bad. I used the time to go over my plans while Deen listened to music.

“I got a bit of shade,” said Deen, this time checking her arm. “But you didn’t.”

“We already stayed there for twenty minutes,” I said. “Maybe my regeneration has something to do with it?”

“I think so. That just means we have to do it again.”

“You’re not going to turn me into a sun-dried tomato. That was enough—oh, look. He’s here.” I nudged my head to the beach.

We were seated by a balcony, shaded by a thatched roof. Down below, standing next to a fruit shake stand was Everett. We told Dario we were at the meeting place a few minutes ago. That should mean Jubjub was around here too. I told Deen that we should talk about my inhumanness so Jubjub wouldn’t suspect anything.

“And here’s Yara.” Deen pointed at the stairs as a platinum blonde head popped up.

I looked at the clock on the wall. “Right on time. I thought she was going to be late. Bet she was scared to offend me.”

“You and your crazy plans,” Deen said, shaking her head. “We’ll have to talk about—”

“Later, later. It’s time to do a Bianca two-point-oh.”