Chapter Five Luke #2
We keep walking toward the rocky outcrop and finally fall into light conversation.
Sera asks me about baseball, and I give her the highlights of the last couple seasons—our state championship win, the play my teammate and I made to close it up.
I catch her twirling a strand of hair around her fingers as she listens—something she always does when she’s concentrating.
If she’s comfortable enough to just be herself, then I should be the same.
I ask if she’s read the new prequel from our favorite series, The Soul Druid Chronicles, that just came out in January, and she lights up.
“Of course! I can’t believe she tied those two timelines together like that. I feel like I need to go back and reread everything.”
“I already am. Lori ordered new copies for me,” I admit.
“Really? I’m jealous. All my copies are in the basement down here, and they have a weird smell.”
“You can borrow mine,” I offer as we reach the rock. “If you want.”
“I know where you live.” She smiles for real this time, her eyes lingering long enough for me to wonder if I still have it wrong, before she turns and scrambles up the side of the rock ahead of me.
I follow her, using our well-worn hand- and footholds.
At the top, she hesitates for a second before offering me a hand up.
I take it, even though I don’t need it, happy for the small touch.
We walk to the edge of the long rock. Sera sits, dangling her feet over the water and watching the ocean slam against the rocks below.
I sit down next to her and lean back as we’re sprayed by the mist from another crashing wave.
The rock is warm under my palms, the breeze cool.
There’s a foot or so between us, and that space feels charged, a little dangerous.
I want to move closer, but instead I close my eyes and let the sun heat me up, try to ignore the threads in me that feel tied to her.
“I’m sorry about your parents,” Sera says suddenly. “My mom just told me this morning. I didn’t know.”
I freeze.
“I wish I’d replied to your message last year, when you reached out.” She clears her throat, not realizing that last year was just the final act. “I wish I’d been there for you—as a friend. You know?”
“Me too.” The admission is sour in my stomach, but true.
Sera used to be the first person I told anything to.
Which girls I was crushing on, whatever crazy idea I had for a new art project, or what prank we should pull.
But when I started to fall for her, well, I didn’t know how to tell her that.
And then my parents started fighting, and I just sort of retreated into myself.
Once I held back one thing, it just felt easier to hold back everything.
“Well, I’m here now.” She leans over and bumps me with her shoulder, the contact sparking unwanted goose bumps on my skin. “And I’ll be here all summer…so, like, if you need to catch me up on all the worst shit, I’m happy to listen.” She sounds hesitant. I look at her, holding her gaze.
“You mean it?” I ask.
“Yes,” she replies. “Friends?” She holds her hand out, and like no time has passed, we immediately move into our secret handshake.
We invented it when we were twelve in case we were ever suspicious that the other had been body-swapped.
Shake, slap palms, slap the backs of our hands, then touch just the tips of our pointer fingers together.
“Friends,” I agree.
“We can even switch up the universe if you need it.” She sweeps her arm at the sparkling water in front of us.
“I think I’ll stay in this one for now,” I admit. “It’s gotten a lot better in the last forty-eight hours.”
I brace for her to pull away, but she doesn’t. Her eyes flick to mine, and I take in her face, her glossy lips, the trail of freckles across her cheeks like a constellation. A heat tingles in my spine as she blushes. She bumps my shoulder again and stays there a minute. I lean back into her.
“It’s weird to be in Northport and not going to camp with you. We’re so old,” she jokes.
“Yeah, I’ll miss it,” I say. “I missed it last year too.”
“You didn’t go?”
I shake my head but don’t elaborate. We couldn’t afford it after the divorce.
The lawyer bills were crazy. But I was glad to help Mom, and it would’ve been too painful to be at camp without Sera anyway.
It helps that the work at the marina is physical, grueling, and kind of mindless.
Between that, working at the shop, baseball, and the girls who started making it so easy to lose myself, I had plenty to keep me busy.
“I’m actually going to be teaching there a few days a week while Miss Iris is away for a bit,” she shares.
“That’ll be fun.” I try to picture Sera in a teacher’s smock and can’t help but laugh. “But you’re going to be terrible at telling the kids to slow up on using materials.”
She laughs too, the sound dancing around us.
“What’s the camp going to do? Charge them?
They’re kids.” She shakes her head like we aren’t, and maybe that’s true now.
“Did you know the studio is open to staff? And I can bring a guest, so if you need supplies or a space to draw or anything…” She avoids my gaze. Is she asking me to come by?
“Oh, thanks.” I leave it there. Already this conversation feels like a gift out of time, something she might not repeat again this summer, or ever.
She lies back and rests her hands on her stomach.
I have the sudden urge to lean over and smell the crease of her neck, to see if she still smells like lemon sugar and paint.
I stand up instead, trying to shake it off.
The ocean is calmer, the tide almost peaked with the noon sun.
I pick my way to the back of the rock. I take off my shirt and jump around, loosening up my limbs.
Then, before I chicken out, I sprint the full length of the rock and leap into the water.
The icy chop sucks me right in, blasting all the thoughts from my head.
I surface, swipe the hair out of my eyes, and look up to see Sera leaning forward, mouth agape. I wave her in.
“No way!” she shouts. “It’s probably freezing!”
“It’s bathwater!” I shout back, even as my teeth chatter a little.
I turn and start to swim toward the shore, passing through patches of water that briefly feel warmer before the cold stabs up again.
When I feel my palm hit sand, I float the rest of the way in, rolling over out of the surf like a seal.
I can hear Sera laughing, and I feel lightheaded and giddy, laughing with her.
I finally get up and run to the beach tent to grab my towel.
I pause as I notice my phone light up. Lila, the junior I hooked up with at the bonfire.
I quickly shove my phone in my backpack before jogging back to the rock.
I can feel Sera watching me as I climb up, and for a moment I’m embarrassed, but then a little proud.
I’m not the skinny kid she grew up with.
Baseball training and work have filled me out.
My friends are always teasing me about how I’m hot now, and there have been plenty of other girls I’ve been with who seemed to agree, but there’s something about Sera looking at me that makes me feel like it’s true. Her gaze snags on the scar on my knee.
“Your turn, Watkins,” I say to distract her.
“Nope!” She jumps up and tries to sneak past me, but I stick an arm out to block her way, shaking the wet hair out of my face and grinning when she yelps.
She tries to fake me out, but she’s too slow and easy to catch.
She squeals as I wrap one arm, then the other around her, lifting her easily back toward the edge.
She’s strong, her muscles tensed against my arms as she leans back and then away, laughing.
“You’re freezing!”
I let her go and step away, heart racing.
“It’s not bad, I promise.” I lie a little.
“You get used to it.” My eyes flicker to her chest again, that scar to match mine.
“I think EBE would love it.” I wink and then race off before she can reply, flying through the air and diving into the water.
It’s still cold, but not unbearable this time.
I stay there, treading water, hoping she’ll join me, feeling like something hangs in the balance.
“Come on, Sera! It’s summer tradition!” My voice carries over the waves.
I swim back a little to give her space. I turn around just in time to see her fly off the end, her silhouette slicing through the blue sky.
When she surfaces, she lets loose an earsplitting scream that dissolves into gasping laughter.
I whistle, echoing her, and then watch as she pivots my way.
There’s a huge smile on her face, and her eyes are shining.
We tread water for a beat, looking at each other.
I want to swim to her, wrap my arms around her waist in the water.
But she’s already turning away from me, swimming back to shore.