Chapter 19 January 12th Avery is already up when I wake up the next morning, sitting on the beach with her legs in the water as it washes up and around her. When I look closer, I see she's giving herself the only bath we have these days, so I leave her to her privacy and work on collecting the water from our makeshift system instead. There's not much, but something is better than nothing, and since we've been largely relying on the heavy dew since it hasn't rained since we got here, the deficiency isn't new. But it is worrying. I take a small drink, just enough to wet the membranes in my mouth so they aren't sticking together and save the rest for Avery. I don't know how much longer we'll be able to go on at this pace, but I shove the thought aside for now. It's not worth thinking about because, like it or not, there isn't a solution. "I'm done," Avery calls, noticing me up here and realizing I've been purposely avoiding her. I carry the hydration bag down to her and hold it out, but she shakes her head. "No, I'm good. You drink extra until you feel like you've gotten enough, and then I'll take what's left." "Avery-" "Henry, do it. You've been allocating most of the water to me this whole time, and it's starting to catch up with you. Your lips are chapped, and your eyes are sinking in. You're majorly dehydrated. Drink." Rather than arguing, I comply. For one thing, she deserves the courtesy, and for another, I'm starting to feel like I'd do anything she asked, just to make her happy. I'm not just noticing her now-I've always noticed Avery Banks. But this island has painted a complete picture of the woman she really is in a way our lives at home never could. Don't misunderstand. I don't think she's different. She's still entitled and on her own schedule and work-averse in an almost startlingly selfish way. She flirts her way through town and sweet-talks her daddy into giving her more money and puts herself above others a fair amount of the time. But beneath the surface, she's always been soft in the center, a veritable statue in a blowing wind of friendships and life and circumstances. For all her quirks, she's still one of the most reliable people I've ever known and never begrudges you the space to feel your feelings. She doesn't judge, even as she's judged relentlessly. There's a reason her friendship with June transcends decades and a reason her family would do anything for her, and it isn't because they've all got their heads in the sand. These are smart, caring people. And they pay enough attention to know Avery is too. Being here has acted as a highlighter, emphasizing her compassion, humanity, and humor over the rest of it. I hope I can be what she needs until someone finds us. I hope...someone finds us. Thirst finally satisfied-but stopping before making myself sick-I hand her the pack, and she drinks until there's a small amount left for later. When she finishes, she closes the top, tosses it up onto the sand by our always-smoldering fire, and turns around to face the infinite water, stretching her limbs. She's skinnier than she used to be-not that she was plump to begin with-and her skin is nearly tawny. I step forward and wrap my arms around her from behind, pressing my chest to her back, and she falls into the gesture with ease, leaning her head back on my shoulder and sighing. "You know, this place would be beautiful if it weren't such a shitty situation." I nod. "I wonder how far outside of the realistic search grid we are," she remarks then, her voice flat. I shake my head, burying my lips in her neck. "Don't go there." "It's hard not to at this point," she argues, pulling out of my arms to face me, her expression as serious as I've seen it in a long time. "We're approaching two weeks, Henry. That's a long freaking time to be searching for someone and not find them. At some point, they're going to give up." "We're a long way off from that. Your family?" I shake my head. "They'll look forever." She snorts. "And to what end? Will we be alive when they get here?" My jaw grinds. "Yes." "But you don't know that!" she explodes, the frustration of being out of control getting to her. I don't blame her. For as good of a front as we put on, we're both ticking time bombs of anxiety and unknowns. "You don't know that they'll find us, and you don't know that we'll live! You can't! Just admit it." She smacks my chest hard, and I grab her wrist as tightly as I can without hurting her. "Avery, stop." "Admit it, Henry! Fucking admit it!" she yells, pulling at my grip with noticeably weakening strength. Her muscles are eating themselves, and so are mine. My chest explodes, the mountain of pressure I feel to make this right without an ounce of ability crushing me. "Of course! Of course, I don't fucking know! Is that what you want to hear? That I'm just as terrified as you? Because I'm fucking scared. Fucking scared I won't be able to protect you. Scared I'll injure myself and burden you even more than I already have. I'm fucking petrified, okay?" Avery steps forward and puts a soft hand on my shaking arm, the jump in my heart rate sending my already strained nervous system into a spasm. "A burden?" Her voice is a whisper. "How can you say that about yourself?" I shake my head, and my voice is undeniably hoarse. "I planned that jump. I insisted on it being part of the trip. I teased you that morning until you agreed to get on the plane, and if I hadn't..." "You'd be here by yourself, and I'd be terrified at home. Sick and scared and still very much out of control. I'd have to wonder where you were or if you were okay." "Avery..." "There are no winners, losers, or burdens here, Henry," she says and moves her hands to my face, locking our gazes together. "It's just you and me, fighting for our lives together." "Avery," I say her name again, the sting of available tears piercing a pain into my dry eyes. An unspoken line of three little words sits at the tip of my tongue, one I can't bring myself to say, no matter how much I'm feeling it. I love you. We've shared a lot of truths with each other that no one else knows. This one, though, I don't know that I'm even ready to share with myself. I go to sleep at night with Avery in my arms, and I wake up wanting to stay there. And every day we're here, the feeling only gets stronger. Avery pushes into my arms and up to her toes to seal her lips to mine, and I dig a soft hand into the back of her wild hair. We clutch each other tightly, willing ourselves to hold on to each other and hold on to hope as we wait. Wait for a rescue we're not sure will ever come.