His pale cheeks stormed red.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see. I stomped out of the trailer and past people who had most definitely heard every single word of our fight. I jumped in the rowboat that Shoshanna and Eamon had commandeered when we first arrived in Killykeen and rowed out to the tiny island with its crumbling tower.
I stayed there until the sun went down. Alone with Eamon’s backpack—where I found his copy of Elementia, the same one I’d been leafing through on his brass bed the night before.
And I read it. Every word.
AS IT TURNS OUT, CALLING DOWN THE LIGHTNING IS EXHAUSTING
Eamon swam out to my little island when the sky was on the edge of dark. The lake was too cold for such ridiculously romantic behavior, and he was a shivering mess when he crawled up the weedy, muddy shore. “I’m here. I made it.” He was breathing hard but otherwise in good shape.
I wrapped him in my jacket, and we sat with our backs to the crumbling tower. “I’m shocked you did that.”
“My da swam the Channel. That was nothing.” He coughed and grinned. “I am fit.”
“You are,” I said, remembering how he’d deadlifted Shoshanna. “Despite being skinny.”
“Hey, I’m wiry. As in strong like wire.” I laughed and leaned my head on his wet shoulder. The sun crept down into a red sliver and the floodlights around the trailers and picnic area turned on with a pop. “We didn’t shoot the scene,” he said, rubbing a hand through his hair. “We’re going to try again tomorrow. Cate is held up with the studio execs. They’re not happy. How’d it go with your da?”
Thoughts streamed through my mind. I ran away again. My dad hated my playing. I told him off. I love you. I can’t believe you swam across the lake. You’re absolutely ridiculous. I read Elementia. I didn’t get it.
“Your lips are blue,” I finally said.
He got up and did some jumping jacks, his teeth chattering. When he sat back down, I crawled on his wet lap and pulled my jacket around both of us. “Your da left, by the way.”
“He did?” I sat up fast. “Did he take Ryder?”
“He left Ryder with Mr. Donato.”
“Oh, good.” I couldn’t contain a huge sigh of relief. “It’s not surprising. My dad taught me this whole run from hard stuff policy.”
“Did you tell him the truth? How’d it go?”
“Good enough for me to maroon myself,” I joked. Eamon half smiled, and I kissed him. It was a sad kiss. “We should go back before it’s too dark and you get hypothermia.”
In the middle of the lake—Eamon rowing in a way that showed off his arm muscles—I reached in his bag and held up his book. “I read it. All of it.”
He frowned. “And now you’re wondering what the big deal is?”
“Well…yeah. It was good, but I didn’t have an epiphany like everyone else. Cate discovered her driving force. Ryder forgave Moss. Julian fell in love with Nolan.”
Eamon paused rowing. “He what?”
“He thinks Nolan’s the best romantic role since Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You.”
“Ah, okay.” He kept rowing. “Let the story sink in a bit, Iris. Also, you’ve got to read the whole trilogy before you make any firm judgments.”
“Okay,” I said, but I flat-out doubted him. The book had been good, but it had felt like a story I already knew all the way through. Wasn’t it supposed to be groundbreaking? A feminist legend for the ages?
I think Eamon could read my mind. “You should talk to Cate.”
“What did you like when you first read it?” I asked.
“Well, I was eleven, so I thought it was exciting and strange and much better than this world. I also had a huge crush on Sevyn. I told Mam the girl I married would be like her, and she said good luck finding a girl like Sevyn who wants to be tied down to a silly boy.” He rowed, the wind ruffling his hair until it looked more like when I’d first met him. “Took a bit, but I found you.”
“I’m like Sevyn to you? Why? Because I electrocute people who get too close? Or I cause great grief for my family?”
“No. You’re headstrong and motivated. You’re clever and kind.” He saw me rolling my eyes and added, “Plus you’re so damn positive. My own personal ray of sunshine.”
“Ha! I’m a black cloud.”
“The kind that shoots out lightning?”
I pointed at him. “Watch it, elf.”
“Certainly, mistress.” He smiled, kept rowing. “You do remember you’re also the person who charged onstage in a foreign country and tore into a song like Chris Martin himself.”
“That was unusual.”
“So you didn’t verbally tackle that reporter for doubting the people working on this film?”
“That was a terrible idea.”
“How about when you singlehandedly saved the teaser trailer?”
“How about when I choked in the recording studio?”
“How about when you saved your brother’s life from a man in the middle of a psychotic break?” He stopped rowing. “Don’t discount your bravery just because it doesn’t always pay off, Iris.”
I folded my arms, wanting to believe him. “So wise, Eamon O’Brien.”
“Not wise. Irish. Genetically endowed with cleverness and freckles.”
I turned to the copy of Elementia. “You know the weirdest part? My dad kept me from reading this like he was guarding a wicked family secret, but I can’t tell what he’s so afraid of.”
“I think you have to ask him, then.”
“Yeah. That would go over awesome.” I rubbed my face, braided back my hair. The shore was close, and my brother’s dim-lit silhouette grew closer. The bottom of the rowboat slid against the silt and Eamon jumped out to haul us the rest of the way. I stepped out, and Ryder was hugging my waist before both of my feet were on the shore.
“I’m sorry, Ry,” I said. “I was mad. Had to take off for a few hours.” I ruffled his hair. When he didn’t let go, I knelt down to look in his
