Cam gasps like I’ve finally taken things too far.
I close my eyes, tipping my head back like the sun on my face can infuse me with patience. Or some good sense, maybe, as all mine seems to disappear when I’m with this girl. She should not be able to make my blood boil with frustration while also making it pump faster with the incomprehensible urge to lunge forward and kiss her all over again. Since I do have enough sense not to do that, I look over to her and offer into the silence one quiet concession: “Eclipsewasn’t so bad.”
Cammie drops backward in slow motion, until she’s flattened against the rocky ledge, save for her legs, which still dangle by mine. I don’t realize that my gaze has trailed down her bikini-clad body and come to rest on her bare, freckled stomach until it starts to quake. My misbehaving eyes dart up to her face, which is now split open with a soundless fit of laughter. Her eyes narrow to slits, mouth wide open, whole body heaving with the kind of breath-stealing hysterics that only come on rare occasions, when she finds something exceptionally funny.
I used to consider it my proudest achievement to earn this kind of laugh from Camilla Lovett.
I also always found it impossible not to fall apart with her, and it seems that hasn’t changed. I drop onto my back at Cam’s side and give in. I have no idea the last time we shared a laugh like this, but it feels, more than anything, like relief. Like finally coming up for air after years of holding my breath.
Cammie’s giggles interspersed with gasping inhales are music—they’re art. I want to record them so I can start everyday with a listen, a better way to invigorate me than any caffeinated beverage.
“Why are we…such a…mess?” she laugh-cries.
“Hey,” I chuckle with mock offense, swinging my leg sideways to kick playfully at her foot with mine. “Speak for yourself. All I see on my end is a respectful, rule-following guy who was trying to figure his shit out before he got villainized by a girl who forgot her own stated boundaries. A sad tale.”
“It honestly is,” she says through a hiccup.
I clear my throat and reach up to scratch the back of my neck but find that the action doesn’t quite relieve the itchy feeling there. So in a more serious tone, I offer, “But honestly, Cam. I’m sorry I didn’t fight even a little bit harder for our friendship. Had I known you wanted that…I mean, all this time, we could have…” A frustrated breath gusts out of me as I think of all the ways I could finish that sentence.
But Cammie doesn’t let me. Bumping her foot back against mine, she says, “I know. But I can’t think about the sad side of it—all that could have been, ‘if only’—or I’ll cry, and I’m so done crying over you. So I think we have to laugh at our own past ridiculousness if we’re going to move forward.”
A few more hiccups interrupt her before she can get all the words out, which does not help either of our laughter subside. What does, however, is a voice shouting from somewhere nearby, “Jacobs cousins, is that you?”
We both sit up abruptly and find that straight ahead, floating in deeper water where rocks under the surface aren’t a threat, is Paolo on his boat, carrying all our fellow passengers,who’ve already redressed in cover-ups, clothes, and life vests. I scramble to my feet while Cammie waves, calling out, “Oh god, yes, sorry!”
Paolo waves back, “It is all right, just lost track of you—but I’ve received word that there is no wait at the Blue Grotto, so we must hurry if we are going to see it.”
Cam accepts the hand I offer and I help her stand. Eyeing the way we climbed up here, I grimace, saying for her ears only, “I don’t love the idea of making that trek with an audience.”
“Time to throw ourselves off the cliff, then,” she answers cheerfully, not an ounce of sarcasm or anything else in her tone to imply she’s joking. When I look at her incredulously, she gestures toward the boat below. “Come on, it isn’t that bad. And it’ll be much faster.”
I peer over the edge of what suddenly feels like a high-dive platform on the moon. “Won’t we hit the rocks down there?”
“Nah, it’s deeper than it looks,” she counters with a confidence I know doesn’t come from real knowledge. “We just have to jump out as far as we can, and we’ll be fine. Here, let’s go together.”
Cammie holds a hand out toward me, and I don’t know what possesses me to take it. Probably my desperation for any excuse to touch her. So desperate I will actually risk my one and only life for it, because deep down, some part of me thinks it couldn’t be the worst way to go, if I’m holding her hand.
“Ready…” she says as she steps scary-close to the edge.
“Not in the least,” I answer, belied by my slow approach at her side.
“Steady…”
“I know you can feel me shaking.”
I meet her blue eyes, glimmering under lashes still wet from her laugh-tears.
“Gooo!”
“OhmygodCamillaohmy—”
My stomach lurches when, as one, we leap. Every part of me is weightless for a beautiful half second while we fall, an adrenaline rush unlike any I’ve experienced in years. It’s terrifying and exhilarating and I can’t decide if one outweighs the other before I’m plunging into the chilly water. I pull my knees to my chest as I sink, my descent slowing until I extend my legs and find I’m just close enough to the bottom to give myself a push back up.
That’s when I realize I’m still clutching Cammie’s hand like my life depends on it, now dragging her back up with me. When we break the surface, I hear the nearby cheers of our boat companions, but I can’t tear my eyes from the girl beside me, catching her breath while giving me the biggest smile I think I’ve ever seen on her face. She’s as bright and radiant as the sun itself, and makes me wonder how I lived for so long in the shade.
“I feel like I should get a souvenir to remember this day,” Cammie muses as we shop in a touristy kiosk by the marina on Capri. “You know, something other than a name to possibly add to my birth certificate.”
I snort out a laugh. “What’s that saying? Take only photos, leave only memories.”
