Prologue

Prologue

Funny how much she could love swimming, but hate boats. Delia's stomach lurched in opposition to the yachts gentle roll on the waves.

"Cordelia, I need you to change into your dress for dinner." Margo Abney directed her younger daughter, with a short glance. Victoria, the elder of the two daughters, stood in all her glory primping in front of the full length mirror of the small cabin.

"Can I have some more drammamine?" Delia asked, rolling to her side to face her mom.

"Margo checked the watch on her thin wrist and calculated the number of hours that had passed. She sighed. "It's about 30 minutes too early, but I want you at the dinner table. Better give it time to kick in. " She handled Delia a pill and water bottle off of the dresser.

She quickly swallowed the pill before it dissolved into nastiness in her mouth. The conversation between Margo and Victoria turned to the usual "who's who and why we care", followed by the ettiquette and other miscellaneous instructions from Margo.

At 16 Victoria Abney was about as boy crazy as they came, though Delia was pretty sure her older had only made out with a few guys. Tori was a goody-two-shoes, too. Her stories and antics didn't quite inspire her younger sister to the level of adoration Tori would have liked but Delia was just completely different. They got along fairly well though, as long as they each had their own space.

Tori was currently fishing for information on the boy that was on board, which made sense and seemed inconspicuous because he was the only one near their own age. Delia was usre he knew plenty about him already. Either she had gotten to know him pretty well over the course of the day, or he had shown no interest and she was trying to get a clue as to what made him tick.

This trip to the Cayman Islands was all business deals. Today had been the wrap up of the merger of two technological and software companies, and for some reason warranted a day on this horrid boat. Delia thought it was stupid how everyone had to act so stuck up and pretentious. She had spent most of the day on the small bunk in the cabin, content to doze and clutch her stomach. For the dinner, though, her mom felt her presence was mandatory. It was Delia's personal opinion that no one would care to look at a green 13 year old girl, but who was she to argue?

"Ten minutes, Delia." Her mom shook her shoulder. "Your dress is hanging on the dor, and there is some lip gloss on the dresser. I'll be back to get you, ok?"

"Ok" She pushed herself into a sitting position, then immeadiately ducked her head to her knees as her head swirled. A few minutes later everything seemes to settle into place and she began changing. She didn't get too far once her shirt was off. A sports bra wouldn't work under the sundress, and a quick toss through her mother's bad yielded no alternative source of support. Sure, there wasn't much up there, but that didn't mean she felt comfortable going without one. Her mom would be back shortly, she wouldn't be happy, but what else could she do? Delia thought it was stupid to have a fancy dinner on a boat and get all dressed up. Everyone had spent all day in their shorts and swim suits. Why make a huge deal about changing now?

When the 15 minute mark hit, Delia got uncomfortable. Even if her mom had decided to give her a reprieve from the dinner, sho would have come and told her. Delia peeked into the hallway, hoping to catch a glimpse of her sister or parents. If she remembered correctly there was a small bar on deck. Maybe they were still sipping concktails. Stepping into the hallway she lurched to the right as the boat dipped. So much for the dramamine. The boat's movement seemed to affect her worse than before. Clutching the rail she struggled up the narrow stairs to the deck. the sky had darkened to the murky blue that heralded a storm. In the distance flashes of lightening flickered in the clouds.

A new wave of nausea swept through Delai, but it was not just motion sickness but uneasiness. A feeling near panic seemed to paralyze her. Her mother wouldn't be happy if she puled on the Switzer's nice boat, she thought, and looked to see if anyone was around as she stumbled to the railing and heaved.

"What are you doing?" A voice spoke in her ear as simultaneously an arm wrapped around her waist. Reflexively Delai whipped her head back, startled. The force of her pulling back was aided by another roll of the boat, and they were knocked down and slid along the deck at a good 30 degree angle. A deck chair caught her shoulder as it flew by, resulting in a stinging pain.

As they slid to a stop and the boat leveled he hauled her back to himself, but they were quickly clutching at things to keep from sliding back the other direction. For a few minutes the managed to hold on to the table that was anchored to the deck.

"What's happening?" Delia tried to raise her hoarse voice over the wind and the spatter of large droplets that seemed to be picking up speed.

"I think the captain had a heart attack or something." She turned and got a glimpse of the head above the shoulder she was tucked into. He leaned down closer to her ear. "We are definitely off course!"

Delia shivered as the rain soaked her skin and clothes. Stomach definitely not settled, but adrenaline had kicked in and she no longer felt like heaving. "Can you swim?" He leaned down again, and she nodded. "Swim team!"

From the corner of her eye she saw him nodding, as if to fortify himself. "I'm going to get my dad to help pull down the sails. " He started to pull away, unwrapping his arms from around her waist and the table, but she clutched him again as the crested another big wave.

A crack split the air, leaving their ears ringing for a second before the sounds of the storm came rushing bacnk. One of the masts creaked as it seemed to hesitate in which was it would fall as the boat was tossed about. Suddenly it crashed across the deck, splinters flying. A series of creaks and snaps sounded off like a string of fire crackers.

Delia watched, frozen, as the boat seemed to disintegrate before her eyes. A rhythmic tapping on her cheek knocked her out of her stupor and brought her eyes to his. He pointed to the waves, gesturing widely. "Here to... swim..." His voice was stripped by the waves and only snipptes registered. She nodded numbly. She wasn't sure why they fought against the wind to get to the railing, but she wasn't sure she could voice the query, let alone be heard.

"Out... way... debris!" Somehow he managed to read her mind.

One second they were on the precipice of the boat, and the next they were in the water. Somehow he managed to keep ahold of her arm, but then she couldn't swim as they bobbed back to the surface. She soon relaized there was little they could do but bob with the oceans rolls and she became lost in the instinctive attempt to catch her breath whenever possible.

Eventually the roller coaster slowed to a more rhythmic rocking sensation. A piece of decking floated not ten feet away and he broke her reverie. "Swim!" He made direct eye contact and she nodded.

As short as the distance looked it felt longer to her exhausted muscles and the motion of the ocean pushed it away even as they progressed. In irritationshe pushed her legs to kick harder, her arms to stroke faster. She grasped the edge awkwardly. He took her arm and gave her the boost she needed to pull her upper body onto the boards.

Time rolled by as they clung to the wood. It was maybe one and a half by three feet, and they could do little more than use it as a floatie. Gradually the sky tinged with pink as the sun lit the sky. Delia's eyes scanned the horizon. there was very little wreckage left floating, but what was there seemed to be bits of wood. Then her eye caught on something more stationary. She stared until her vision focused. It took a few tries to get her stiff elbow to move the inch or two to knock against his. He was dozing adn her throat was dry. She tried to work up some spit.

"Hmm?" His voice was rusty as well.

She nodded to the spot as his attention turned to her. He grinned.

"Looks like land," he croaked. "Think you can kick?"

"Yeah."

They turned themselves in the direction of the spot and began kicking. this time the waves aided them.

"Tide" He said.

The sky had lightened up to a pale blue as the horizon solidified and widened.

"Break," Delia rasped, her legs burning from the use.

He nodded shortly, adn they let the tide carry them toward the shoreline. After a few more rounds of propelling themsleves to the shore the land raised up pit of the water.

"Did you feel that?" He asked, turning to Delia. She shook her head. A few feet further her toes brushed the sand of the ocean floor. Gravitiy took effect as they tried to stand up out of the water. Delia stumbled and fell to her hands and knees, and a wave crashed over her head, then lapped back in her face. She sputtered as he hauled her back to her feet. His arms supported her as they floundered to the dry sand and collapsed.

The bouyancy felt in the salt water was replaced with the heaviness of gravity and bone deep muscle ache. They lay there for an indefinite amount of time in silence. The sun rose higher and the heat intensified. It felt wonderful. She was chilled from the hours spent in the water.

She woke to him shaking her shoulder. "We need to get out of the sun."

Shakily she pushed herself into a sitting position, then grabbed the hand he offered. She staggered a bit and he grabbed her shoulders, steadying her.

"Oh!" She groaned, her right shoulder stabbing in pain where he gripped it.

+++++++

Jonathan tightened his grip as she swayed again and groaned. He shifted so they were hip to hip, and slid his right arm around her waist then proceede to guide her to the shade.

He looked her over as she sat, slumped over her propped up knees. He was pretty sure her name was Cordelia, the younger daughter of the Abney's. He had only caught a few glimpses of her yesterday , and even then he wasn't really paying attention. Anyone could tell that she had no sea legs.

Thank goodness she wasn't wearing a silly dress, he thought as he took in her tank and cargo shorts. Her wavy light brown hair hung to her shoulders in clumps and her skin was already pinkening from the time they had laid on the beach in exhaustion. He caught a flash of red as her hair fell forward, standing out from the pale blue of her tank top.

He cautiously knelt next to her to get a closer look at the nasty gash across her right shoulder blade. It was only about three inches long, and not actively bleeding, but there was and in it from the beach.

Jonathan's mind raced. What could he use to clean it? Salt water would be painful. What if it got infected? They both had wrinkled hands and feet from being in the water for so long, and needed fresh water. One thing at a time. Who knew how long it would take for some one to find them. He assumed that they were still on the private island they had been staying on and had set sail from. It wasn't in U.S territory or waters so the coast gaurd wouldn't be patrolling anywhere near them. It all depended on how long it would take the staff to become concerned and alert someone. They were supposed to have gone back last night, so surely it wouldn't be long.

He couldn't remember the size of the island, but he did remember their host, Greg Chandler, boasting about all the varieties of tropical fruit that grew there.

He shook her arm gently. "Hey, I'm going to see if I can find any food or water."

"I'm coming." She grabbed his hand.

Jonathon held her gaze and nodded. "I'm Jonathan."

Her weary eyes blinked at him. "Yeah, I figured that. Torie was going on about you."

He blinked. He thought maybe she expected him to be impressed, but he had no interest in her older sister. He had thought that the younger one would be a brat, but he was rethinking that assumption.

"I'm Delia." She brushed the sand off her seat and shook her legs. "Sand sure isn't sexy." She stated blandly, causing Jonathan to bark in unexpected laughter.

Delia glanced up and blushed, muttering. "You know, the drink: sex on the beach."

"Yeah." He was still smiling as they began walking.

"How's your shoulder?" He asked a few minutes later, and watched as she reached back to scratch.

"It kind of itches- ow!" she gasoed as she made contact. "I didn't know I hurt it."

"I'm not sure that salt water helped. We need to try and clean it, and probably cover it." He tried to mask his concern so she wouldn't freak out. "Lot's of bruises too."

She glanced down at the blooms of color on her limbs, shrugging. They moved on.

After a short while they ventured off the beach into the trees and foliage. Jonathan had never seen so many ferns and fronds, and he tried to hold some back to prevent them from slapping Delia as the walked.

"Hey, are those coconuts?" Delia leaned back, shielding her eyes from the sun's glare.

He squinted to where she was pointing. "Yeah," his gaze followed the trunk of the tree down. "But I don't know how we would get one. Maybe one has fallen off. Wanna check the ground?"

"They train monkeys to harvest them." Delia sighed. "I dunno if they-" She gasped and began hopping in a small circle, then fell on her butt. "My toe! I was wrooong!" She wailed, clutching her foot, as Jonathan looked on in confusion.

"I found one you dodo!" She growled.

The irony of the situation hit Jonathan and he started laughing . He sat down next to her, earning a swat to the arm. "Now where is it?"

Delia sighed, adn shifter to her knees and reached her arm out combing the space in front of her. Though she was aggravated, he could tell she had a pleased gleam in her eye that she had managed to find something in their search. She sat back and held the cocont aloft like a trophy over her head.

The hunt, or gathering maybe, yielded an additional two mangos, or papaya? And they made their way back to the beach.

"Ooh!" Delia scurried back a few steps. "That sand is freaking hot!"

Jonathan sighed. One more bothersome thing. The sun was directly overhead, so the day was only half over. "Guess you'll have to hot foot it to the water, or stay back here in the shade."

Delia gazed at the water, deliberating. It would be nice and cold, but she had enough of it last night. She plopped down where she stood.