Rafe had offered to drive them up Bayrum Hill in his dad’s Jeep, and Aurora happily invited him into the house. Her mom must not have heard about his reputation, Esti thought, or she wouldn’t have left them alone so soon on the balcony. As Rafe grinned at her behind his glass of juice, however, Esti couldn’t help wondering why they had never reconnected after she moved to Oregon. He was a walking dream; even his eyelashes were long and perfect.

“I start at UCLA next fall,” Rafe said. “I’ve been working in Los Angeles since I got out of high school last year, until I quit my job a couple of days ago. I can make better money at my uncle’s restaurant, and I don’t have to pay rent at my parents’ house. You want to go snorkeling in the morning?”

“I can’t swim.” Taking a sip of juice, she smiled at him.

“You haven’t seen the reefs yet?” Rafe didn’t hesitate. “You gotta come with me, then. We can stay in the shallows until you get the hang of it.”

Private lessons from Rafe Solomon. Tomorrow morning she would drown, never again to play Juliet. All because of a good-looking boy she’d known in fourth grade. What would Alan think of that? She studied Rafe for a moment longer, trying to decide whether he was flirting or treating her like a long-lost friend. The hopeful look in his eyes gave it away.

“No, but thank you,” she said.

“You sure?” Rafe said in disappointment. “Well, think about it anyway. The water’s super warm this year, and I got plenty of snorkeling gear.” Undeterred, his face quickly lit up again. “So, what are you doing on Cariba? When my dad told me you had a bit part in the school play, I didn’t believe him. Of course, Juliet isn’t any bit part. I thought Danielle had that all wrapped up for herself. And what’s with the name Esti?”

“Don’t you remember? You called me S.T., for Serene Terra.” She briefly glanced up at a whispery wail in the breeze, not sure what to make of Rafe’s barrage of questions. Although Manchineel Cay wasn’t visible in the darkness, she could barely discern an uneven drumbeat. The island doth protest too much, she thought absurdly.

Ignoring the sounds, she turned back to Rafe. “I always liked the name, so now everyone calls me Esti.”

“You changed your name because of me?” Studying her face, he slowly smiled again.

With a deep breath, she looked back out at the sea again, twisting the necklace around her fingers. Despite Carmen’s warnings, Rafe’s smile did something disturbing to her heartbeat. A warm boyfriend would be awfully nice.

“I thought about you sometimes,” he said. “No, a lot, actually. Especially whenever your dad had a new movie coming out. And I saw you a couple of years ago on TV. I bragged to my buddies that you were my girlfriend in fourth grade.” Before she could answer, he gave her a rueful grin. “I was too embarrassed to try and track you down. I didn’t think you’d remember me, but then my dad told me you’re staying here in the Bayrum house.”

Esti seriously doubted that he’d been too embarrassed to find her. More likely he was too busy chasing girls. “I remember you doing my math homework for me,” she said.

“You know what I remember,” he said earnestly, “is you speaking in Shakespeare, like some foreign language. You were always in total control, and I couldn’t understand a word you said.”

“Control?” Was that really how he remembered her? “Not even close. It was all an act.”

“So to speak.”

Esti laughed. “Honestly, I didn’t understand much Shakespeare either, when I first started. I just memorized the sounds.”

“That makes me feel better.” He gave an exaggerated sigh. “You’re still so good, I’m surprised you’ll even talk to me now. After watching Juliet tonight, I don’t know if I have the nerve to ask you out.”

As Esti raised her eyebrows, the corner of his mouth slowly turned up in another smile. When her body responded with a delightful tingle, she shook her head. He was very good at this game, but she wouldn’t go out with him. She had no reason to doubt Carmen’s list of troubles behind that stunning smile, and her heart was focused on Alan.

Rafe’s eyes became serious, intently searching hers. “Please tell me you’re not dating Greg Timmons.”

“Of course not.” She shook her head again. “He’s a jerk.”

He leaned forward. “Are you seeing someone else?”

“Yes.” Her skin tightened over her scalp as she thought about the delicate necklace resting against her throat. She had never seen Alan.

“Of course you got a boyfriend.” Rafe scowled. “How dumb can I be?”

“Well, he’s . . .” Another tingle swept through Esti as Rafe’s eyes again grew hopeful. When he nudged his chair closer, she quickly turned away. “I’m not available.”

They were both quiet for a moment, the silence only broken by trade winds swirling around them. Finally Rafe cleared his throat. “Let me know if that ever changes.”

Although his words left the future open, the resigned tone of his voice seemed real, for the first time all evening.

Esti looked at him again, unable to resist a teasing smile. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” He met her eyes with an abashed grin. “You sure you don’t want to go swimming tomorrow? For what it’s worth, I’m a certified instructor. I am capable of being completely professional.”

“Promise?”

He sighed. “If I have to.”

“Because a girl can’t live on a Caribbean island without knowing how to swim. Right?”

“Still in control.” Shaking his head, he began to laugh. “You haven’t changed at all.”

“My uncle owns a dive shop, so I actually know what I’m doing.” Rafe adjusted the face mask to fit her head.

Although the warm water felt nice, the ocean looked huge from this far out in the shallows. Esti had never been in past her knees before, except from the safety of a boat. She couldn’t imagine anything beneath the surface worth risking her life for, and she felt vulnerable in her skimpy black swimsuit, reeking of coconut sunscreen.

“You’ll be fine,” Rafe added. “The best thing about snorkeling is how you can just let go and stop worrying. Let the sea take control, while you relax and enjoy the show.”

Esti slowly draped the mask over her head. “You’re telling me it’s all about being out of control.”

“It’ll be good for you, honest.” He gave her a mischievous look. “So, here’s how you work the snorkel.”

Clamping down on her fear, Esti copied Rafe’s movements, wrapping her lips around the mouthpiece and biting. It felt as absurd as it looked, and she tried not to hyperventilate at the concept of breathing underwater. The idea of deliberately not being in control was as scary as it was compelling.

“The best reefs are out by the cays,” Rafe said, spitting out his mouthpiece to talk, “but Manchicay Bay is a great place to see fish. Put your face down until you’re under the water, and the top of your snorkel will stay in the air so you can breathe. I’ll be right beside you if you need help.”

She felt his hands on her shoulder and her waist, light and restrained. Clutching the mouthpiece in her teeth, she lifted her feet and sank into the water with deep, sucking breaths. She was about to drown, for the privilege of seeing a few fish.

To her surprise, the fish were beautiful. A large yellow and black striped angelfish hovered beside her, long fins and tail streaming gracefully from its body. As it darted away, she saw hundreds of bright blue fish dancing and turning in perfect harmony; the slanting rays of the morning sun caught them like iridescent sequins sparkling in the water. The nearby rocks rose from the sea floor like underwater mountains, covered with swaying seaweed and bright coral in alien shapes.

She was flying, she thought in astonishment, magically suspended on the undulating surface of the sea. When Rafe’s face appeared beside her, she laughed out loud. Water immediately filled the mask as her smiling cheeks broke the airtight seal. Lurching upward in panic, she tried to speak, and the sea rushed into her mouth as well. Rafe yanked her out of the water, pulling the mask and tube away from her face.

“It’s okay,” he said. “The bottom’s right here, just put your feet down. Nothing to be afraid of.”

Esti grabbed him, spitting salty water and choking for air. He wrapped his fingers firmly around her waist, holding her steady as she became aware of the heat from his hands. As electricity raced through her body, she instantly pulled herself away. Although the water barely came above her hips, she hoped he would think her rapid breathing was due to nearly drowning, rather than the breathtaking proximity of their bodies.

“Sorry about that,” she said without looking at him. It had occurred to her that the biggest danger today might have nothing to do with the sea.

“You’re doing great!” he said enthusiastically. “Most beginners glue their feet to the bottom, but you were floating on the first try.”

“It felt like flying.” She gave him a quick glance as she brought her breathing under control. “Flying in the sea, while watching an alien ballet.”

“Yeah, mon,” Rafe said with a smile. “That’s exactly how I feel.”

When her body tingled again, she lifted her chin in determination. “I’m ready to start over.” Rafe had promised to stay professional, and Esti would make sure of it. “I had no idea how pretty it was down there.”

“Yeah.” His eyes hadn’t left hers. “Makes me wonder what else is hiding beneath the surface.” He looked away before she could, untangling the masks he had draped over his arm. “Keep the mask tight against your face once you’re underwater. No smiling this time. But we’ll only float for a few more minutes. As soon as you’re ready, I am going to teach you how to swim.”

She readjusted the snorkel against her face, fiddling with her mask until her heartbeat returned to normal.

First he showed her how to relax, letting her body float while she watched the fish. Then he swam circles around her while she kicked with rubber fins. Best of all, he taught her how to move her arms and legs in deeper water so she stayed up even without a snorkel and fins. “You’re swimming,” he pointed out as she tried to get used to the idea of keeping her head above the water. “I knew it wouldn’t take long.”

When they finally flopped onto their beach towels, Esti was exhausted. “Thank you,” she said, studying a pretty seashell Rafe had plucked from the ocean floor for her. “If this is being out of control, maybe I like it.”

Rafe laughed, rolling onto his side and propping his head on his hand to look down at her. “That’s the thing,” he said. “When you swim, the sea takes over. Nothing in the water gives a rip about you and your problems. Not that you have any problems, but it sure keeps my head on straight.”

Esti smiled at the bizarre notion of having no problems.

“If you want more lessons,” Rafe added, “let me know. By the end of Christmas break you could be racing me across the bay. I need someone to go diving with.”

“Scuba diving?” She raised her eyebrows. “You mean, in deep water?”

“We’d start easy and hang out near the cays. Their corals aren’t as damaged as the reefs close to Cariba.”

“Not that cay, though.”

Rafe snorted as she gestured toward Manchineel Cay. “Of course you’ve heard the legends.”

She attempted a poor imitation of Ma Harris’s voice. “I hear so much ting about jumbee dem.”

“Dey jumbee dem stay away from you when I’s around, babe,” Rafe shot back. “You sweet too bad, an’ I ain’t gon stand for no jumbee threaten you and thing.”

She burst into laughter. “That’s right. You used to have an accent. You sound just like a California boy these days.”

“I learned how to turn it off in L.A.” He grinned. “Most of us turn it back on when we talk to each other. West Indian dialect has a great rhythm, and it’s a sign of respect when we talk real to each other. If you heard me and my parents talking, you wouldn’t understand a word. Just like when you used to hit me with your Shakespeare.”

“I always liked the way you talked.” The memory made her strangely happy. “How often do you come to Cariba?”

“Every Christmas.” Rafe stared out at the water, his expression content. “And most summers. My family’s been here forever. The Solomons and Harrises—you know Lucia—were slaves on the old Manchicay plantation. Now my uncle owns three restaurants and a dive shop, and my cousin’s a senator. This time I’m staying for a few months, like I told you. I gotta save up some money for college next year, and I’m hoping . . .” He paused, then gave her a quick sideways look. “. . . you might decide to learn how to scuba dive. I’m a certified instructor for that too.”

Esti thought about the beautiful secret world hiding within the sea. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it sounds appealing.”

“Very appealing.” He clearly wasn’t speaking about scuba diving, and the flirting words played her like a light switch, the charge pulsing all the way to the tips of her toes.

She instantly looked away, rolling over to sit up on her towel.

“Completely professional,” Rafe added dryly. “I promise.”

I could talk you out of that, Esti thought in confusion, disturbed by how easily he was able to turn her on. “Do you teach scuba diving at your uncle’s shop?” she asked.

“Nah, I make better money bartending. Continentals are annoying unless they’re throwing big tips at me while they’re drunk.” He gave her his irrepressible grin. “When I’m flying in the water, I’d rather do it with someone I like.”

It was all Esti could do to keep from reaching out to stroke her fingertips along the smooth black cornrows braided over his head. She wanted to touch him and feel his hands on her again, and it was unsettling. Very deliberately, she dropped his seashell into her beach bag, then lifted her fingers to touch Alan’s necklace. “I’m a Continental.”

“Not really. You already got a reputation on Cariba, you know.”

“I have a reputation?” she asked flippantly.

“Even you.” Rafe managed to keep a straight face. “’Tis a small island, babe.”

She tried to imagine the things Danielle might have said about her. “And what would my reputation be?”

“Everyone says you got de gift. Most West Indians never met a white girl who talks to jumbees.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Of all the gossip she might have worried about, it had never occurred to Esti that the crazy jumbee rumors were spreading beyond Danielle’s little clique. “I don’t know anything about jumbees, except what Ma Harris told me.”

He laughed. “Ma Harris has her own ideas. Everyone on Cariba is afraid of her.”

“Great.” Tightness crawled up Esti’s spine and along her scalp, like a keening wail from Manchineel Cay. Alan couldn’t have touched her if he weren’t real. Zombies didn’t go around giving girls necklaces. And he wouldn’t have done it unless it meant . . . something.

As Rafe leaned back down on his towel, still smiling, her restlessness grew. She scooped her fingers into the sand, wondering what exactly she had with Alan. He’d finally admitted that he liked her, even if his weird paranoia kept him in hiding. Her time with him was sheer magic; their minds seemed to meet perfectly when they were together.

But she clearly needed someone she could see and touch. She wanted a face to look at; she craved warm hands holding her waist. And she couldn’t help wondering what it felt like to kiss a boy—not a rehearsed moment in front of an audience, but for real.

Aware of Rafe’s eyes on her, she scraped her fingers through the sand, wondering if she really was going crazy. What normal, sane girl would fall in love with a disembodied voice in the dark anyway? When Aurora finally heard the wild rumors—which she would, even in her seclusion—Esti was going to have a lot of explaining to do.

No. It was Alan who had some explaining to do.

Esti abruptly wiped the sand smooth. It was time for him to prove the rumors wrong. She did want to be with him, and if he could give her a necklace, he could give her more. This time she wouldn’t back down.

She looked up at Rafe. “We should go. I need to start getting ready for tonight.”

“Okay.” He seemed amused, undoubtedly aware of the turmoil he’d been wreaking in her body all day. He’d probably been through the same thing dozens of times. When he held out his hand to help her up, she shook her head, scrambling to her feet by herself.

Undeterred, he scooped up her beach towel and flung it over his shoulder to carry for her. “Can I give you a ride to school?”

Esti nodded, suddenly impatient with herself. Whatever his intentions, Rafe was being very nice. She had no right to jump to conclusions, especially since part of her secretly wished he would try for a kiss.

“Sure,” she said with a smile. “I appreciate it.”