He looks away, but his mouth twitches. “You want to give it a try?”
He’s never asked me before. He’s always just done it himself.
“Yeah, I do.”
A few minutes later, he nods toward the water near me. “Left. By that rock.”
I follow his line of sight. At first, nothing. Then a flicker near the surface.
I tighten my grip. Wait. Then strike.
Water splashes up around my knees, and for a second I’m not sure I hit anything. Then I lift the spear, and a fish twists at the end.
I blink down at it, proud of my catch. “Well, would you look at that.”
Dane glances over and smiles. “Well done.”
I pull the fish free and toss it onto the sand beside the one he caught. “I like this—actually helping instead of just watching.”
“You’ve always helped.”
I glance at him. “It doesn’t feel like it.”
He looks back out over the lagoon. “You gather fruit and water, do most of the cooking, keep the fire going. You figured out how to braid the fiber rope that doesn’t fall apart after two days.”
I study him for a second. “I didn’t think you noticed.”
His eyes meet mine. “I notice more than you realize.”
Something sparks at that—quick, quiet, and not easy to shake.
Dane looks away and wades a little farther out toward the rocks where we keep the traps wedged between two stones. The rope floats just under the surface, tied off to a chunk of coral so the tide doesn’t carry it away.
He grabs the line and pulls. The trap breaks free with a heavy splash, water spraying across his shoulders as he hauls it up. Itdrags for a second with the weight before he brings it into the shallows.
Two large crabs thrash inside.
“Nice catch.”
He glances down. “They’ve been getting smarter lately.”
“Dane… they’recrabs.”
“Exactly.”
He tips the trap and gives it a shake. The crabs tumble onto the sand, shells knocking together as they scramble across the wet ground. One of them makes a quick dash for the water.
“Nice try, mate.”
He catches it easily from behind before it gets far. The other one follows, snapping its claws in protest. Both go into the bucket, where they rattle noisily against the sides before settling.
“Breakfast just got better,” I say.
“Yeah, it did.”
He lifts the trap, resetting it before placing it back between the rocks. I’ve seen him do this a thousand times. Still, I find myself watching.
Something small twists low in my stomach, unexpected enough that I look away, focusing on the water instead.
