Her CRV was a decent size, but Kekoa took up every bit of space in the front seat. He seemed ready to overflow it, his left arm brushing the invisible dividing line that bisected the car – but he stayed carefully in his own space.
Even with the windows down, the air felt crowded with so many things left unsaid. Laurie didn’t know how to give voice to everything that was inside of her. She couldn’t verbalize it in her own head, much less communicate it.
For someone who lived in a world of text, the inability to verbalize anything – and especially something so important – felt intensely frustrating. It made her want to get out and run, to dive into the ocean and swim until she had shaken off every sticky feeling of worry and doubt.
She needed time in nature to be able to think clearly again.
Maybe Kekoa did too.
It was only a few minutes to the trailhead, and they didn’tspeak.
Once they were on the trail, Laurie set out at a jog. That was a normal pace on this muddy jungle hike, despite all its uneven roots and slick inclines; anything slower, and the mosquitoes were quick to storm.
She had been too sedentary lately, and soon she was breathing hard.
Kekoa kept pace just behind her.
When she glanced at him, his face didn’t betray the slightest effort – but the day was warm, and sweat shone on the smooth planes of his face and neck.
After a while, when the stitch in her side felt like it was cutting into her lungs, Laurie veered off the jungle path and onto the hot black cliffs that ran all along the edge of Pualena.
Out in the strong midday sunshine, there were no mosquitoes at all.
She slowed to a walk, and Kekoa fell into step beside her.
“I don’t like how we left things the other day,” she said once she caught her breath.
Same, he signed, looking straight ahead.
“You caught me off guard.”
Same, he repeated. Emphatically this time. The barest hint of a smile flickered across his face, but he still didn’t look at her.
“I don’t know what to say,” she exclaimed with sudden frustration. “I’m no good at talking about my feelings. That doesn’t mean that I don’t have any.”
He stopped suddenly and turned to her. “I know you have feelings, Laurie. I need to know if you have feelings forme.”
She looked up at him, rendered mute by the full force of his attention.
They stood perfectly still for a moment, looking into eachother’s eyes, there in the oven of the Hawaiian sun and the hot black lava rock. Sweat dripped down Laurie’s neck.
He turned away and kept walking.
Frustration built in her chest, alongside a sharp fear that she was making an even greater mess of things.
When they finally reached the hidden beach, she dove into the sea without a backwards glance. The cold water swallowed the accumulated heat of the hike, all the mud and sweat and tears.
She swam underwater, arms in front of her, kicking her legs together like a mermaid. Finally, when she couldn’t last another moment, she came up for air.
Kekoa was right there beside her.
The water was too deep for Laurie to stand, but Kekoa’s feet were firmly planted in the sand. They were in a calm bay, completely alone – save for the sea turtles on the beach and the fish that swam around their legs.
Laurie kicked her feet lightly to keep her head above water.
Kekoa’s eyes moved over her face with a familiar intensity. “You’re like a–”
She didn’t catch the last word. He said it too quietly, his voice lost beneath the waves that crashed against rocks out beyond the bay.
