“False, sharks don’t roar.”
Max’s eyes narrowed. “Mine will.”
“What, because your sharks are going to be special hybrids?”
“They’ll be badass! Just don’t sacrifice the goat!”
“I think I’ll buy a second goat, and send you picture texts of him in various states of rage in your house, so that you never have peace and—”
“Fine!” Max shouted. “I’m sorry, leave the goats out of it!”
“THEN DON’T LIE ABOUT SHARKS!”
“I like you.” Max nodded. “You fight fire with fire. I think if we ever get off this island and the world gets taken over by zombies, I want you as my second-in-command.”
“Aw.” I nodded. “Sweetest thing a guy’s ever said to me.”
“Comes from the heart.” He sighed and then yawned. “So about those girls.”
“I don’t know their names.”
“Sure you do.” Max turned me around and pointed at the beach. “There’s Angry, Grumpy, Sneezy, Dopey, and Doc. Not gonna lie—kind of on the fence about Doc.”
“We’re naming them after the Seven Dwarfs?”
“Tell me you don’t see the similarity!” Max pointed. The girl he’d dubbed Angry did have a permanent scowl. Grumpy just looked, well, grumpy, she had short hair and was using sticks to try to build a fire. Don’t ask me why. Dopey was frolicking across the sand. I imagined she also believed in unicorns and had a pet butterfly. And Doc, well, Doc . . . I tilted my head. “Why don’t we like Doc?”
“Nobody likes Doc.” Max crossed his arms. “He’s like the one dwarf everyone’s on the fence about, people don’t forget him because his name doesn’t even make sense—I mean what does he do?”
“He’s the doctor. I can’t believe I’m participating in this conversation.”
“Um, believe it, and do they ever come out and say oh, P.S., This is Doc, he’s the resident doctor for the dwarfs, oh, and he looks like a bazillion times older than the rest of them.”
“No, but—”
“Doc.” He pointed at the girl. “Her hair looks more white than blond, and she doesn’t fit in, she’s a bit sketch. Yeah, I’m going with Doc.”
“Well, now I feel bad, keep Doc.”
“Damn it.” Max hit the water with his hand. “The things I do for you, Little B, the things I do.”
I rolled my eyes. “And keep Angry, Grumpy looks like Eeyore and we don’t need an Eeyore in the group.”
“Aw, you’re using cartoons as examples.” Max clapped. “I’m so proud.”
“It’s the company I keep these days.”
“Badass company,” Max replied. “Okay, so that leaves . . . Sneezy?”
“Why is she Sneezy?”
“Oh.” Max pointed. “It’s not her, it’s me. Every time I walk by her I sneeze. I’m not saying it’s a sign, but come on, nature’s basically telling me I’m allergic to her, imagine what would happen if we slept together and—”
“And let’s just not finish that sentence.”
“Fine, so I still need three more girls, right?” Max’s eyes searched the beach. “Make that two: I’m going to keep Dopey as well. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and she’ll be shy. So that leaves . . .”
“Sneezy.” I smirked. As if on cue, Max sneezed and sent me a glare.
“Fine.” He huffed. “And the final seashell goes to . . .”
“Gina.” I answered. “I know you hate her, we all hate her, but here’s the thing, she’s tough. I mean, how many people can say they know how to build a fire with their bare hands? If we get stuck here forever—she’s our only ticket out.”
“So Gina’s our survival.” Max winced. “It feels wrong to put our lives in her nutty hands.”
“Guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do.”
“What? What do you mean?”
I pushed him toward the shore. “You gotta go kiss your girls, Max.”
“Just kidding. We so aren’t going to be partners in the zombie apocalypse!
“Pucker up!”
He flipped me off.
But honestly? It felt more like a high five between friends.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MAX
And to think I had totally been about to offer the position of best friend to Becca after she used the Eeyore reference! I stomped toward shore, my heart a little bit lighter after our conversation, and turned around to give her one last wave.
She lifted her hand, and it froze midair. Her smile turned to a look of horror and her eyes went so big I came to the only conclusion I could. She’d seen a shark.
Frantic, I looked around my feet, I mean I was in some shallow water but still there wasn’t a chance in hell that—
“Maa-aaa.”
I gulped and very slowly turned around.
A goat.
Was on the beach.
And the girls were petting it!
“Back!” I yelled. “Get back!”
The goat, clearly taking my terrified yell as a sign of aggression, chose that opportunity to charge toward me, and bits of sand flew underneath its hooves as it galloped in my direction. And I, being the coward I am, ran in the opposite direction.
Toward Becca.
“Remember that zombie apocalypse scenario we talked about?” I yelled, half running and half swimming toward her in the ocean.