Page 96 of Faking it For Summer

“Is this why you’re mad at me? Are you jealous?”

“No, I’m not jealous,” she interrupts me quickly. “I just thought we were best friends, and best friends tell each other everything.” She stops. “You know what? Whatever. Have you thought about the treasure map yet and what the clues might mean?”

“I have actually, and I think I am onto something.”

“What do you think?”

“I kept going through the lines of the poem that were on the map.”

“Yeah?”

“It said: A treasure awaits an island. / The island is big; the island is small. / A treasure awaits somewhere rocky. / Don’t trip, or you’ll fall.” I stop talking. “Gold, silver, bounty aplenty. Do your very best to come and find me.”

“Where’s the clue there?”

“Don’t trip, or you’ll fall,” I say.

“What does that mean?”

“Where are people constantly tripping on the island?”

“I don’t know.” She shakes her head. “Oh, wait. Down by the pier, where the rocks are. Tourists love to climb on them, and they always end up slipping. That’s why we locals call it Slippery Rock Beach.”

“Exactly. Tourists are always going down the pier to the beach and tripping over the rocks. They don’t see the moss on them at first.”

“You think that’s it?”

“All I know is that is what my brain is telling me. We’re here, we’re at the beach. We could go and check now.”

“Shoot, do you think I’m going to find a bucket of gold right now?”

“No. There were several clue numbers on the map. I think there are going to be several clues until we get to the end.”

“Then we’ll find a bucket of gold?” she asks hopefully.

“Maybe. I don’t know who set this up.” I very much doubt it, but I don’t want to burst her bubble.

She looks at me through narrowed eyes and grabs my hand. “Lukey, you would tell me if it was you, right?”

“What do you mean?” My heart pounds as she traces her fingers across my palm.

“Did you create this treasure map so that we could spend more time together, so that we could practice being a couple? Because you knew I was upset that you didn’t come early, like you were supposed to.”

“I wish I could say that I did”—I pause—“but I didn’t.”

She takes a step forward, and sand from her toes brushes onto my legs. She reaches up and touches the side of my face. I smell coconut from the suntan lotion on her skin and see remnants of salt on her body. She’s got a golden glow from her time in the sun and rosy-pink cheeks. She looks beautiful.

“You know I can tell if you’re lying, right?” She leans forward. Her lips graze against mine as she studies my eyes. “Tell me again.”

“Tell you what?” I say, barely breathing.

“Did you create the treasure maps?”

“I didn’t,” I say.

She steps back and frowns. “I can’t tell if you’re telling the truth or not.”

“I thought you could always tell.”