Reborn, I Let Them Use the Poisoned Sunscreen

In my last life, my boyfriend's childhood best friend handed out jars of homemade sunscreen on the boat ride to the island. I'm a marine bio major — one sniff and I knew the mix had something in it that could drive the island's feral hogs into a frenzy. I told everyone to throw them out.

They did. But Brynn didn't look at the group. She looked at me. Eyes red, jaw tight. "You just can't stand seeing people appreciate anything I do, can you?" She turned and ran into the woods alone.

We searched for her all night in a storm. By morning we found her body at the bottom of the cliffs.

A week later, at her memorial bonfire on the beach, every person who'd gotten hurt during the search turned on me. My boyfriend ripped off his bandage and showed his stitches. "If you hadn't humiliated Brynn in front of everyone, she'd still be alive."

Someone said I should burn for what I did to her.

Then hands on my back. The fire. I burned alive on the sand while seventeen people watched.

I opened my eyes. Salt air. Engine noise. I was back on the boat — the morning of the trip.

And there she was. Brynn, standing at the bow with that shy smile, holding out a row of little glass jars.

"I made a little something for everyone." Handwritten labels, coconut oil base, that rehearsed softness in her voice. "All natural sunscreen. My grandma's recipe — coconut oil, aloe, lavender. Should keep you covered all day."

Callum draped his arm over her shoulders. My boyfriend. If you could call him that. "Brynn's grandma was the real deal. Made everything from scratch — medicine, salves, you name it. The whole town swore by her."

"For real?" someone asked.

"Dead serious." He grinned. "Brynn's the luckiest person I know. Everything she touches turns out fine. You want sunburn, or you want her stuff?"

People scrambled for the jars like they were free samples at Costco.

Callum held one out to me. "Here. Put some on."

I didn't take it. "I'm good."

His smile dropped. "You're good? Brynn spent all night making these and you can't even—"

"I said I'm good."

Brynn's eyes welled up right on cue. "It's fine... I know my stuff isn't what Elowen's used to. I just wanted to do something nice for everyone..."

"What's the matter, princess?" Callum stepped closer. "Her stuff not fancy enough? What do you use, eighty bucks a bottle? A hundred?"

My phone buzzed. I looked down.

NOAA Hurricane Warning — Category 4 — direct path — estimated landfall in 18 hours.

My blood went cold.

I shoved the screen toward Callum. "Forget the sunscreen. There's a Category 4 hurricane heading straight for this island. We need to leave. NOW."

He didn't even look at the screen. "Those forecasts are wrong half the time. Don't change the subject." He pushed the phone away. "You owe Brynn an apology."

The boat erupted.

"Seriously, Elowen? She spent hours making those!"

"Just because your family can afford the expensive stuff doesn't mean you get to crap on everyone else's."

Callum grabbed my wrist and yanked me forward. "Quit standing there and help hand these out."

He gripped my wrist, dragging me toward the bow where the jars were stacked.

My arm swung before my brain caught up.

Crack.

The engine had just cut — we'd reached the island. The slap echoed across the water in dead silence.

Callum's head snapped sideways. His hand released my wrist.

Every person on the boat froze.

I shook out my stinging hand and looked him dead in the eye.

"You want to rub that crap all over yourself? Be my guest. But don't you EVER put your hands on me again."

His pupils blew wide. He grabbed the front of my shirt. "Brynn poured her heart into those and you won't even touch them? You think you're better than the rest of us?"

I ripped his hand off my collar.

"Keep it. You'll need it more than I will."