She caught her breath and swam back out to where Will was straddling his board.
“That wasn’t rock. I just had my hand in a fist,” he said, his arms crossed over his broad chest.
She sighed dramatically. “Such a sore loser.”
They spent the next hour falling into an easy rhythm. Lining up, yielding to whoever was closest to the peak, watching one take a ride while the other caught their breath. Lizzy’s muscles burned hot while the cool water kept her temperature balanced; her entire body felt flushed. She loved it.
By lunchtime, the surf began to settle. They sat on their boards, watching the steady rhythm of the tide, waiting to see if it had anything left. Seagulls circled overhead, and the only sound was their boards hitting each other, pushing them close like the current had a mind of its own.
“It’s odd,” he started, then seemed to think better of it.
“What?” she asked.
“I’m usually so laser-focused out here,” he said, staring out at the horizon. “It’s me versus the ocean. It feels like a battle I’ll never win but I need to keep fighting. Like I need it to remind myself where I fit in the world.”
“What’s weird about that?” she asked.
“I forgot how fun it can be.”
His eyes met hers then, as if waiting for her to tell him he was crazy.
But he wasn’t. Surfing was hard and scary, but it was also fun. When was the last time she had acknowledged that? Usuallyshe wanted to work her muscles and body so hard that she could think of nothing else. She wanted to be alone instead of being pulled in a million directions. She wanted to escape. But sometimes, it was good to escape with another person.
That’s when the realization struck her.I needed this, too.
“Why?” he asked.
Oh God. Had she said that last part out loud?
“There’s just a lot going on,” she said. “Stuff I need to figure out with the bakery. My dad. My sisters. But none of it ismystuff. I don’t even have time for my stuff anymore. And the more I neglect it, the further away it gets.” She let her eyes dart to the beach to avoid his gaze. But he still waited for her to continue. “I was supposed to start at Columbia a few weeks ago. If I hadn’t deferred, I would probably be in class right now. It was all so close, but now it feels impossible. Like I was delusional for even thinking it could happen. And maybe that’s just growing up, but it’s still hard to let go. You know?”
He nodded, then said softly, “Yeah, I do.”
She smiled, then turned to stare out at the horizon.
It was a long time before she noticed that her thigh was touching his, brushing back and forth against his leg as the current forced them closer. She knew she should move, start swimming to shore and head back to the motel. But she didn’t want to. And for a second, she let herself be selfish.
“Hey,” he finally said.
She looked over at him. His face looked calm under his wet hair, but his blue eyes were studying hers with a question.
“Are you hungry?”
She could eat.
Will didn’t ask why Lizzy had a set of dry clothes already waiting in her car, and Lizzy was thankful as she disappeared into the guest room downstairs to change. It had felt presumptuous before she drove here, and even more so now. But not enough to stop her from shoving the clothes into the passenger seat that morning. When she emerged a few minutes later, Will was waiting in a pair of worn jeans hanging low on his hips and a faded sweater with the sleeves pushed up his forearms. She hadn’t thought there was anything special about her jeans or the oversized cardigan covering her Smiths T-shirt, but he still stopped when she stepped into the foyer, staring at her for a long moment before clearing his throat and nodding toward the door.
Will insisted on driving, and Lizzy didn’t argue, relaxing into the soft leather seats and letting the music fill the car as they drove up to Gosman’s Dock. They ate lunch at a small stand near the water, sharing a selection of fried pickles and lobster salad and narrowly avoiding the seagulls swooping down to steal their fries. Afterward, when they piled back into the car and Lizzy was complaining she was so full that Will would have to roll her back into his house, it occurred to her that she was assuming she would be invited inside. He had only offered the beach to her to surf. There was no guarantee of anything else. Maybe he would pull up and say goodbye and that would be that.
By the time they turned down his long drive, she was trying to dissect her panic. The process was so distracting, she barely noticed as he parked and killed the engine, then walked to her side to open the passenger door.
“Want some ice cream?” he asked.
She was pretty sure that if she had some ice cream right now, she would burst. But she didn’t care. She smiled at him and said, “Sure.”
Ice cream led to sharing embarrassing stories from their childhoods, which led to Will giving her a tour of the house, down every labyrinthine hallway until they found themselves back in the living room. She attempted to play the piano, he tried to teach her, until she finally claimed ownership of a new musical genre called “classical improv.” At that point Will stood up and got a beer.
Lizzy didn’t know what time it was when they found themselves on the porch, sprawled out on neighboring chaises. She took a sip of her beer and watched the branches of the red cedars sway in the darkness.
