61. Indy
SIXTY-ONE
INDY
It’s so early that the sun is still just a faint glow on the horizon when Nick drags me to the subway after him.
“Where are we going?” I ask again when we step onto the train. There are very few people out and about this early in the morning, and the ones who are all look half-asleep. Not Nick though. He just looks hot.
“Nicholas.” I flick his earlobe when he still doesn’t reply.
“It’s a surprise,” he says, and when I go in for another flick, he grabs my hand and holds it in his, and suddenly I can’t think about anything other than that.
My hand. In his hand. And he keeps it there.
He’s still holding it when he pulls me out of the subway car and when we walk up the stairs, and then we’re outside, and he’s still holding it, and what the hell is happening here?
He keeps pulling me after him, walking faster and faster until we might as well be running.
“Are we late or something?” I ask as we turn another corner.
He glances toward the horizon. “Not yet.”
“But we will be? Are you gonna tell me what for?”
We cut through the parking lot and head toward the waterfront. The air smells faintly of salt, and it’s all so familiar. The early morning. The sea.
I slow down, even though I’m not fully aware that I’m doing it yet. There’s a gut feeling. Something akin to fear.
He wouldn’t.
He would, though.
There are a set of metal storage racks near the water.
I jerk to a stop, my hand slipping from Nick’s.
He turns around and raises his brows at me.
“Blue?”
What do I say?
Don’t break me?
It’s too late to ask that. It’s also unfair to ask that, considering everything.
I force myself to move.
“What are those?” It’s a relief that I sound pretty much normal.
“Boat racks.” He raises a brow at me because it’s clearly a stupid question since I know what they are.
I stare at him. Swallow. “Um, sure. Uh, why are we here?”
He doesn’t answer, just sends me a look, a smile on his lips, his eyes shining.
He walks over to one of the racks. A chain secures a blue tandem kayak in place and just above it, attached to the same chain, is a single shell. He unlocks the chain, and I step closer automatically to help him get the kayak off the rack, and then we lift the kayak together.
“Whose are these?” I ask.
The water glimmers in the darkness while the faint gold line on the edge of the horizon glows.
“Mine,” Nick says distractedly. “There.” He nods in the direction we’re headed, and I follow him with my heart in my throat.
We put the kayak in the water and get in.
The paddle feels foreign and familiar at once.
So does the water and the gentle rocking beneath me.
I remember it all. It’s as if all my early mornings out on the bay back home have been rolled into a ball and stuffed back into my brain, so it’s a lot of memories all at once.
I’ve spent so many early mornings out on the water like this, so all the things I grew to take for granted back then, I now notice.
And I’m also suddenly very aware of how much I missed it.
This indescribable peace of being out here before the rest of the world is awake.
Sometimes life changes all at once. With a bang. Kaboom.
But sometimes change is so gradual you don’t realize it until a lot later, when something forces you to acknowledge that there’s a version of yourself you haven’t seen in a very long time. That somewhere along the way you’ve lost something integral that made you you.
I dip the paddle into the water.
“Ready?” Nick asks.
I nod and pull the paddle through the water. The kayak moves forward smoothly. We find the rhythm like no time has passed at all, and then it’s just him and me and the endless expanse of water.
Freedom.
There’s a lump in my throat that lodges there tightly and makes breathing just a bit more difficult.
The kayak cuts through the water, and we head toward where the sun is slowly rising over the horizon. Once it’s up, we stop and rest the paddles across our laps, just looking around.
“You’re very quiet,” Nick says.
I glance at him over my shoulder. Sunshine is painting his skin golden, and his eyes shine in the early morning light.
I dip my fingers into the water.
“Don’t even think about it,” he says sternly. “It’s cold as balls out here.”
I grin and keep my hand in the water for a bit longer to feel the waves playing against my skin.
“Wuss,” I say when I lift my hand out and shake off the water.
“You start splashing me and I’ll have to retaliate. And we’ll both end up in the water, you know that. And then my junk will break off because it’ll freeze solid.”
I turn my face toward the sun and close my eyes. “I’d lick you like a Popsicle.”
He sighs. “Great. I’m hard again.”
And I laugh. I laugh so hard I nearly fall overboard, and Nick has to grab my forearm to steady me.
By the time we get back to the marina, the sun is high in the sky and we’re both shivering with cold.
We put the kayak away, and once Nick’s locked the chain, he holds the key out to me.
I stare at the key, then him, not really getting what he wants me to do. He locked up already, didn’t he?
He takes my hand and presses the key into my palm, closing my fingers around it.
“I want you to keep it. Use it.”
I’m already shaking my head. “I can’t.”
“Yeah, you can. You love it out there, Blue. Use the key.”
“But… it’s yours.”
He waves me off. “I’ll go with you. Whenever you ask me.” He shrugs. “So keep it safe for me.”
I press my lips together and stare down at the key in my hand before I look up at him again.
Everything crumbles inside me. Years of work. All my rules. Every wall. Every boundary. It’s all swept away in a storm this stupid, stupid key unleashed in me.
I’m not over him.
Never was.
Never will be.
In a way, it’s almost a relief to finally admit it to myself. I’ve spent so much time trying to convince myself it’s over, and I’m exhausted. I’m giving up. Going down with the ship.
It will never be over for me.
He’s it for me, and I fucked it up beyond repair a long time ago.
“It’s just a key, Blue,” he says.
Only it’s not.
Somewhere in the last six years I convinced myself that surviving without him meant I had learned to live without him, but it’s not the same thing at all, is it? And I’m only now understanding the difference.
“I have to get going,” I blurt. “I have to… Work. I have work. And I’m…
Thank you. For this. I haven’t… It’s been a while.
I didn’t remember…” I drag my hand through my hair and let out a slightly manic sounding laugh.
“Thank you. You didn’t have to. But you did.
” I blow out a breath. “I really have to go.”
It’s safe to say panic has set in.
I just need to get away from him for a bit and let my emotions settle, and then I can stuff them back in the box and shut the lid tighter this time. Maybe get a better lock. Scratch that. Definitely get a better lock.
I just need some space, and I can pack all those feelings away again, nice and tidy.
“Bye.” I whirl around and hurry away.
“Blue,” he calls after me, but I wave without looking back, and I’m just grateful I manage to turn the corner and get out of sight before I start to run.