“Did you do okay?”
“We lost,” Haven scowled. “By a hair. But most of
our good swimmers have graduated. And that's what I
wanted to ask you about. When you said you were a good
swimmer, how good did you mean?”
I looked at her with surprise. I'd expected more of her
subtle insults, but Haven seemed genuine. Her initial
standoffishness seemed replaced by a mercenary interest in
my swimming skills.
“You see, Mackenzy – I really want to win this year.
Going to Nationals is my best bet for a college scholarship –
that's what I tell all my girls. It's not just about the muscle.
It's about the money.”
I remembered what Varun had said about Haven –
she'd lost her best friend when Varun lost his old girlfriend.
I couldn't imagine going through something like that, and I
felt ashamed for how harshly I'd judged her earlier. Maybe
she wasn't jealous of seeing me with Varun on her own
behalf – maybe she was just protective of Jana.
Jana whom Chance had supposedly killed.
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“Well, I'd certainly not say no to a college
scholarship,” I said. Although, from the looks of things,
Haven certainly didn't need one.
“So you'll try out?” Haven nodded brightly.
“Sure,” I said, after a pause. Just because these girls
were overly made-up and too-expensively dressed didn't
mean, I thought hopefully, that they were as bad as the
popular crowd back home. Maybe I'd even manage to make
a few friends – and with all the romantic chaos going on in
my life right now, I figured that I needed a few shoulders to
cry on, girlfriend-style. And I probably needed something to
distract me from the sense of foreboding that grew worse
each passing day – the curiosity about the mysteries of this
island.
“I'm so glad!” Haven's new implied peace treaty
didn't seem to have mitigated the squeals in her voice. “Bye
Macken- zee!”
She skipped off, her coterie in tow.
Maybe she wasn't so bad, I thought, as I headed off
to my next class.
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Princes of Paradise (M.A.G.E. #1 )
Chapter 12
My first official date with Varun was everything I
imagined it would be. Varun picked me up at eight o'clock
sharp, brought flowers for my mother, introduced himself
with a handshake and perfectly chosen questions about how
my mother was settling into life at the Cutter Imperial, and
then whisked me away after a polite interval. The boat was
waiting on the beach lawn in front of the hotel, drenched in
moonlight. The seas were dark and cool, and he held my
hand as he expertly guided the boat over the waters. He had
brought enough food for twenty people, apparently unsure
as to what my favorite type of food was, and so by the time
we arrived at the cove, which was as secluded as Varun had
promised, we spread out what seemed like ten different
dinners on the rocks. We drank pineapple juice and coconut
cider, the island's specialty, a fizzy drink made from coconut
water. We ate fresh fruits – the taste of ripe bananas and
oranges sweet on my tongue – and Varun presented to me an
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enormous picnic basket filled with different dishes he had
stolen from the hotel's buffet dinner.
We watched the moon rise high in the sky. I leaned
into him, letting him stroke my hair and wrap his arms
around me. He kissed me gently, but despite our seclusion I
never felt unsafe – even my mother, I thought, would
approve of his brand of romantic approaches. Although I saw
the hot desire in Varun's eyes, it was nevertheless clear that
he thought of this as a first date, and indeed was almost
reluctant to get too physically close to me, lest it make me
uncomfortable in this remote spot. Every time he touched me
or kissed me, it was slightly hesitant, as if he were waiting
for my approval.
Oh, Varun, I thought with a smile. You don't even
have to ask.
He had me home by midnight, as he had promised
my mother to do. He walked me once more to the door and
kissed me quickly before heading back to his boat. My head
was spinning.
It had been the kindest, most respectful, most
romantic, most thoughtful date I had ever been on. He had
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Princes of Paradise (M.A.G.E. #1 )
brought food and drink, planned a romantic seaside cruise,
showed me a secret cove – he'd even impressed my mother.
So why was I still thinking about Chance?
I sighed as I tiptoed upstairs to bed – evidently my
mother trusted me enough not to wait up for me. As much as
I liked Varun, as much as I wanted to throw myself
wholeheartedly into the relationship, into his arms, I just
couldn't bring myself to forget about that feeling of
connection, that white flame-hot force of desire, that came
over me whenever Chance was in the room. Was I being one
of those typical teenage girls I read about, I wondered sadly
– ignoring the nice guys in favor of the jerk? Hung up on a
bad boy? But it felt different with Chance, somehow. I had
seen
