compromised.
Corinthe waded back to the boat, circling it to get a closer look at the motor. In the darkness, she reached her hand underneath and found two pieces of exposed metal side by side. Each was the size of a playing card, with a small circle cut out of the center. Remnant pieces of string were still threaded through the circles.
Remnants of the string she had just broken.
She pulled and pushed the pieces of metal every which way, but she couldn’t get the right grip or angle to jump-start the ignition. When the string was pulled, the two circles lined up perfectly and slid the respective metal pieces into place. She needed a chain or string, thin enough to fit through the circles and strong enough to help click the two metal pieces into place.
Would every part of her plan have some unexpected complication? She slapped the surface of the water, hard, and felt a sting travel up her arm. It was as if the Unseen Ones had sent the wind themselves, testing her resourcefulness.
She balled her hands into fists and immediately felt regret. Of course that wasn’t true; the Unseen Ones believed in order, in efficient execution. The wind hadn’t been sent by divine forces. It had just been bad luck—something that happens to humans all the time. And hadn’t she been here to double-check, then triple-check, that everything was in order? It was better to find out sooner rather than later, once the girl was in position.
She walked back to the beach and wrung her hair out, then finger-combed it as best she could. She picked up the dress she’d left behind on the sand, slipped into it, and dug her phone out of her pocket. It was 11:35 p.m. There wasn’t much time left. She ran down the beach and up the rickety wooden staircase that hugged the cliff and led up to the party. At the top of the stairs, a sandy path wound around a gazebo that opened up into the backyard.
A pool was lit up by underwater lights, and girls were just starting to peel off their glittery tops and skinny jeans to jump in, some having thought to bring bathing suits and others wearing only their underwear and bras. Their heels littered the edge of the pool, andCorinthe could see that one had even fallen into the nearby Jacuzzi. On the far side of the pool, a crowd of bodies gyrated to the thumping beat coming from the speakers set up in the gazebo.
Corinthe popped into the little hut, certain she’d find an auxiliary cord—but there was none. The music was being played wirelessly, likely from someone’s phone, and the only cord in sight ran between two speakers. To test her luck she tugged at it, and the music went silent.
People on the dance floor groaned and shot glances in her direction. Casey Herman, part of the AV crew, hopped out of the pool and started to dry off.
“What happened?” he asked. He had red hair and a crooked grin. He plugged the cord back in and the music started up again, followed immediately by cheers and squeals.
“Sorry,” Corinthe said. “I was just looking for something.…”
She scanned the crowd, noticing all the necklaces, dangly earrings, and shoelaces—but then her gaze settled on Ava. The pretty brunette was standing with two other girls on the patio near the bar. She was wearing a silky black maxidress and a cropped gray sweater, her wavy hair braided loosely to the side and tied with a silk ribbon. Her friends were shorter, and one of them teetered on platform wedges, twisting her curly black hair. The other, in a short, flouncy pink dress, was telling them an animated story, her eyes wide. Ava sipped from a clear glass bottle while feigning interest in what the girl in the pink dress was saying. Even from a distance Corinthe was certain it was sparkling water—Ava’s favorite. She knew it the way she knew Ava wanted to major in law and volunteered at a senior citizens’ center in the Mission on Tuesday afternoons.
Since enrolling at Franklin High last week, Corinthe had made a habit of studying
Corinthe waded back to the boat, circling it to get a closer look at the motor. In the darkness, she reached her hand underneath and found two pieces of exposed metal side by side. Each was the size of a playing card, with a small circle cut out of the center. Remnant pieces of string were still threaded through the circles.
Remnants of the string she had just broken.
She pulled and pushed the pieces of metal every which way, but she couldn’t get the right grip or angle to jump-start the ignition. When the string was pulled, the two circles lined up perfectly and slid the respective metal pieces into place. She needed a chain or string, thin enough to fit through the circles and strong enough to help click the two metal pieces into place.
Would every part of her plan have some unexpected complication? She slapped the surface of the water, hard, and felt a sting travel up her arm. It was as if the Unseen Ones had sent the wind themselves, testing her resourcefulness.
She balled her hands into fists and immediately felt regret. Of course that wasn’t true; the Unseen Ones believed in order, in efficient execution. The wind hadn’t been sent by divine forces. It had just been bad luck—something that happens to humans all the time. And hadn’t she been here to double-check, then triple-check, that everything was in order? It was better to find out sooner rather than later, once the girl was in position.
She walked back to the beach and wrung her hair out, then finger-combed it as best she could. She picked up the dress she’d left behind on the sand, slipped into it, and dug her phone out of her pocket. It was 11:35 p.m. There wasn’t much time left. She ran down the beach and up the rickety wooden staircase that hugged the cliff and led up to the party. At the top of the stairs, a sandy path wound around a gazebo that opened up into the backyard.
A pool was lit up by underwater lights, and girls were just starting to peel off their glittery tops and skinny jeans to jump in, some having thought to bring bathing suits and others wearing only their underwear and bras. Their heels littered the edge of the pool, andCorinthe could see that one had even fallen into the nearby Jacuzzi. On the far side of the pool, a crowd of bodies gyrated to the thumping beat coming from the speakers set up in the gazebo.
Corinthe popped into the little hut, certain she’d find an auxiliary cord—but there was none. The music was being played wirelessly, likely from someone’s phone, and the only cord in sight ran between two speakers. To test her luck she tugged at it, and the music went silent.
People on the dance floor groaned and shot glances in her direction. Casey Herman, part of the AV crew, hopped out of the pool and started to dry off.
“What happened?” he asked. He had red hair and a crooked grin. He plugged the cord back in and the music started up again, followed immediately by cheers and squeals.
“Sorry,” Corinthe said. “I was just looking for something.…”
She scanned the crowd, noticing all the necklaces, dangly earrings, and shoelaces—but then her gaze settled on Ava. The pretty brunette was standing with two other girls on the patio near the bar. She was wearing a silky black maxidress and a cropped gray sweater, her wavy hair braided loosely to the side and tied with a silk ribbon. Her friends were shorter, and one of them teetered on platform wedges, twisting her curly black hair. The other, in a short, flouncy pink dress, was telling them an animated story, her eyes wide. Ava sipped from a clear glass bottle while feigning interest in what the girl in the pink dress was saying. Even from a distance Corinthe was certain it was sparkling water—Ava’s favorite. She knew it the way she knew Ava wanted to major in law and volunteered at a senior citizens’ center in the Mission on Tuesday afternoons.
Since enrolling at Franklin High last week, Corinthe had made a habit of studying
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