The Storm (Part 1)

"Are you sure you know how to do this?"

"I've been sailing for two years," I sigh, stepping onto the boat, "I think I know what I'm doing."

"Okay, whatever you say." 

I glare up at her. She doesn't even notice. She's too busy waving at some sweaty, beefcake lifeguard. 

I didn't want to go sailing with Gianna. It's because of my mom. She met Gianna's dad earlier this summer. Ever since, they've been practically inseparable, going on date after date after date. 

I guess my mom wants Gianna and me to form a sisterhood of sorts before our parents inevitably get married, because lately, she's been insisting I take her everywhere with me. 

"You know what would be fun? If you took Gianna for ice cream." 

"What if you and Gianna went down to the beach together?” 

And just today, "Honey, the restaurant's low on fish. Go out and catch some more for me, will you? Ten pounds will do. Oh, and bring Gianna! She's never been sailing before. Imagine how much fun she’ll have!” 

Yup. Sooo fun. 

I hate Gianna. I hate her silky blonde hair. I hate her perfect teeth. I hate the way she pretends to like me when her dad’s around, then treats me like I'm some kind of alien when he’s not. And I hate the way that lifeguard looks at her, in her spaghetti-strap crop top and tiny shorts. 

"Okay, are you done flirting?” I say, beyond fed up with her. “We have fish to catch."

Gianna rolls her eyes so quickly it’s barely noticeable. "I guess."

She turns and waves to the lifeguard one last time. "Bye, Sebastian! We have fish to catch!" Her voice is dripping with sarcasm. I can hear Sebastian laughing from forty feet away.

I resist the urge to push her into the water, then kick the boat away from the dock, hoisting the sail. A gust of wind comes along, and we're off. 

Okay, let’s get this thing over with. 

***

"Hey. Those are some pretty dark clouds over there."

It's the first time Gianna's spoken since we left. I look behind me. Sure enough, dark storm clouds are beginning to form on the horizon. Weird. The forecast didn't call for rain today. 

"Oh. They're probably headed East. Don't worry about 'em." I reply.

"We've been out here for an hour,” She groans, “Where's all the fish?" 

"Dunno," I say. I check the nets, bobbing in the foamy water. "Must be off-season."

"Ugh, we're gonna be out here all day, aren't we?" Gianna says, messing with her ponytail. "I can't be out here all day. This wind is making my hair so frizzy."

“Yeah, well, there’s starving people in Africa,” I mutter.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” I say, a little more loudly this time, “Just that there are bigger problems in the world than your frizzy hair.”

“Um. You think I don’t know that?”

“I don’t think you care.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“It means, I think you're selfish, Gianna. I think you only care about yourself.”

She gasps. “Oh! I cannot believe you just said that. Do you honestly think I wanted to go sailing with you today? No! I did it for my dad. And here you are, saying I only care about myself!” She stamps her foot, rocking the whole boat. 

“Stop that! You’re scaring off the fish!”

“Oh, screw the fish! Turn this boat around. I want to go home.”

“No. Not until there's ten pounds of salmon in this bucket.” 

“Ugh!” She crosses her arms, turning her back to me. 

Silence settles over the boat. The sky begins to darken. Seagulls cry. A cool breeze twists past. A shiver ripples up my spine. 

"I really don't want to be your sister," Gianna finally says. "You are so mean. To my dad, and to me."

She turns to face me, all teary-eyed. "What did I ever do to make you hate me so much?"

I'm about to say something (or nothing, I don't know), but that's when I feel it; a raindrop. Followed by another. Then another. I look up at the sky. The storm clouds are directly overhead now. Jeez, how did they get here so quickly?

"Okay, uh, we've gotta go. Like, now."

I guess Gianna can hear the panic in my voice, because suddenly she's all alert. “Why? What's happening?"

"A storm's coming. We cannot be out in the middle of the ocean during a—“

A sudden gust of wind nearly knocks me over. The sail balloons out, pushing us farther out to sea. No, no, no, no. Desperately, I try to turn us around. "Quick!" I yell, "Lean to the left! It'll shift the boat's weight!" But it's no use. The wind has other plans. 

Rough waves slap up against the boat. Cold, hard rain hits my face, making it impossible to see anything. Whipping my head in every direction, I realize I can't find the island anywhere. I have no idea where we are. 

Needless to say, Gianna isn't taking any of this very well. She's panic-breathing, shivering, holding herself, seconds away from a full-blown meltdown. I kneel beside her, holding her face in my hands. 

"Hey, can you hear me?" 

She’s trying to say something, but her voice is too shaky. 

“Hey, listen. Breathe. Just breathe. We’re gonna be okay, I promise. Rescue boats are out on the water right now, looking for people caught in the storm. They will find us. We just gotta stay calm. Alright?" 

Her breathing slows a little as she weakly nods.

“That’s the spirit. Okay, I’m gonna try and—“

Another blast of wind. Before I even know it’s happening, my body hits the water. My vision goes dark. I can’t breathe. Frantically, I kick my way up to the surface, choking on seawater, gasping for air. 

Our boat’s been tipped over. And Gianna is nowhere to be found.