Chapter Six
Three Years Earlier
Danny
“There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and the music in its roar.”
-Lord Byron
Some days the ocean is the best friend you’ll ever have. Some days, the ocean is out for your blood, and you never know what kind of day it’s going to be until it’s too late to make a damn bit of difference.
No matter how good a swimmer you are, how savvy you get at reading the waves, or how careful you try to be, the ocean is better, savvier, hungrier. Mother Ocean will give you joy, hope, and comfort, but she will also drag you low, strip you bare, and make all your nightmares real.
The ocean is where all the oldest nightmares were born, and where they still live, washing in and out on the tide, waiting for humans to drop their guard and step into the water…
I learned about the ocean’s dark side my first year on the island, when I got smacked in the head by a surfboard, got so dizzy I didn’t know which way was up, and nearly drowned. If Sam hadn’t been there to tow me to shore, I might not have lived to see my fourteenth birthday.
The violence of the ocean shouldn’t take me by surprise, but when I look up from the book I’m reading—a mystery about aliens taking over the earth I wouldn’t have touched if Sam hadn’t put it in my hands but that now I can’t get enough of—to see Sam struggling against the current a few hundred feet from shore, I can’t believe she’s really in trouble.
But she’s the strongest swimmer I know, flits through my head even though I know that doesn’t mean anything.
The ocean doesn’t care if you’re Hercules with a side of Thor. If the ocean’s decided to fight you, the best you can hope for is to live long enough for it to lose interest.
I know this, but still I sit on my ass for a good thirty seconds after I see her, some stupid part of my brain refusing to process that Sam is fighting like hell to get back to the beach in between sets of punishing waves that toss her farther out to sea every time they roll her under. By the time I throw my book to the towel and surge to my feet, she’s already ten feet farther out.
By the time I race like hell for the ocean, snatching some kid’s abandoned boogie board off the sand as I run, Sam is getting slammed by a shoulder high wave so hard that when she goes under she doesn’t come up again for a long, long time.
I hit the water at a sprint, muscles burning as I fight my way past the shore break, heart lodging in my throat until I see her dark head surface in the trough, her shoulders heaving as she pulls in a breath.
“I’m coming, Sam!” I scream as I shove out into the deep water, using the boogie board like a kick board and kicking like crazy toward her, hoping the board will be enough to keep us both afloat until we can get out of the rip tide.
I scream her name again, but I’m not sure she can hear me over the roar of the surf and I need all the oxygen in my lungs to keep kicking like hell as I duck under waves that are curling hard overhead, clawed fingers determined to scratch through skin and draw blood. It’s a brutal swim, but I make good time and I’m almost close enough to touch her when a double wave catches the front of my board and flips me hard.
If I’d taken the time to leash the board to my wrist, I would have been able to let go and use my arms to fight free of the roll, but I didn’t. If I let go of the board now, I’m never going to get my hands on it again, and Sam and I might both die because of it. I’m a strong swimmer, but not as strong as she is, and definitely not strong enough to tow her to shore without something to help me stay afloat.
I tighten my grip on the boogie board and concentrate on holding my breath while I’m spun like a top and punched down toward the bottom of the ocean. Finally, after seconds that stretch on forever, with nothing but the darkness behind my eyes and the muted rumble of the water frothing above my head to keep me company, the wave decides it’s done with me and spits me back up toward the light.
The second I break the surface, I suck in air and shake the hair from my eyes, blinking as I scan the water around me, trying to orient myself and figure out how far I am from Sam.
“Danny!” she screams. “Over here!”
I spin in the water, spotting her not five feet away. Our gazes lock as another monster wave bears down and then we’re both pulling in air and dropping beneath the curl.
The moment of eye contact lasts less than two seconds, but in those two seconds everything that needs to be said passes between us. I tell her to hang tight and I’ll be there as soon as the wave passes over. She tells me that she’s scared to death, but she can hold on for a few more minutes.
Ever since we were kids, I’ve been able to read everything I need to know in her eyes. How to give her comfort, how to give her pleasure, when she wants me to tease her into talking about the shit that’s bothering her, and when she wants to sit next to me and share a silent moment. I never have to ask Sam what she’s thinking. I never have to wonder how something I’ve said made her feel.
And I’ve never been more grateful for that than when I break through the surface, scissor kick to her side, and slide the boogie board into her hands. I know without either of us wasting a breath that she’s okay now, and we’re going to get through this together.
We duck under another wave, but by the time the next one is rolling toward us, Sam is on the boogie board in front of me and I’m leveraged above her, holding on tight as we catch the swell and ride the crest diagonally toward shore. We get pounded once or twice, but we stay together, hold on tight to the board, and within ten minutes we’ve team boogie boarded back to water shallow enough to stand in.
We lock hands, and I squeeze her fingers tight as we struggle out of the water and collapse onto the sand, gasping for breath.
“Shit,” Sam says after a moment, her breath still coming fast. “I thought I was going to die.”
“I thought you were, too,” I say, the words making me laugh for some crazy reason.
“Shit,” Sam repeats, laughing along with me. “That’s the word that kept going through my head, over and over again, shit shit shit shit shit. I thought I was going to die and my last words were just one long stream of profanity. I’m so disappointed in myself.”
I put my arm around her shoulders and pull her against me while we both continue to laugh. Her skin is cold and damp, but it has never felt better to have her in my arms.
Before today, I wouldn’t have said I take being able to touch Sam for granted, but as I press a kiss to her forehead and hug her closer, I realize I do. I take for granted that she’s going to be waiting for me every summer when I fly back to the island and that this perfect thing we have is always going to be perfect and no one will ever be able to take it away.
I feel invincible when I’m with her, but nothing is invincible, not even a love like ours.
“I’m going to think of you,” I say when we’ve finally stopped laughing and are sitting, staring at picturesque Hamoa Bay where Sam might have died if I hadn’t looked up from my book in time.
“I was thinking of you, too,” Sam said, understanding what I mean without me having to explain. “I didn’t want you to have this beautiful beach ruined for you forever.”
“It would have been more than the beach.” Something deep in my bones recoils from the thought of Maui without Sam. “I would never have come back to the island. Ever.”
“Don’t say that.” She pulls back to look up at me. Her face is still pale, but her eyes are sparkling with their usual life. “I love this island, and I love all the memories we’ve made here. I wouldn’t want you to stay away from places that remind you of good times because one place reminded you of something bad.”
“You dying would be worse than bad, psycho.” I brush my thumb gently across her cheek, rubbing away some of the sand stuck to her skin. “I can’t imagine anything worse. I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you, too,” she says, eyes shining when she smiles. “Thanks for saving my life.”
I return her grin. “Well, I figured I owed you from the time you saved mine. But the next one’s going to cost you.”
She arches one damp brow. “Oh yeah? Should I start saving my pennies?”
“I prefer to be paid in kisses.” My breath catches as she leans into me and her breast presses again my arm. Her bathing suit is freezing cold, but her softness against me still makes me hot all over.
“Then I’m good to go.” She’s close enough that her breath warms my lips. “I’ve got all the kisses you’ll ever need.”
I murmur my agreement as our lips meet and we kiss like we barely avoided witnessing the end of the world.
Because in a way, we did.
Sam and I both have our own separate school year lives, families, and friends. We have dreams that are ours alone, and hopes for the future that don’t revolve around the day we’ll finally be able to stop loving long distance and be together all the time. But in every way that counts, Sam is my world, and I’m hers. Dying would be preferable to trying to figure out who I am without Sam around to love.
We take our time climbing the steep asphalt drive up to where we parked Sam’s van and aren’t in a rush to get back to the campsite. We stop in Hana, get ice cream and more ice for the cooler, and eat our Nutty Bars on a park bench overlooking Hana Bay. When we get back to the campsite at the black sand beach park, we roast hot dogs, linger over dinner while the sun sets, and take a walk around the lava tubes in the purple twilight.
And when we finally climb into our tent and get undressed, we make love like it’s the first time, only better.
I’m not fifteen and so eager I have to remind myself to slow down every five seconds anymore. Now I’ve got the self-control to spend a full hour kissing every inch of Sam’s skin, telling her with every caress how much she means to me, how much I love her, and how glad I am she’s still here with me. By the time I finally slide inside her, I feel like I’m about to cry and tears are slipping quietly down Sam’s cheeks.
It’s that perfect, so good it hurts, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.
Realizing I’m going to lose Sam someday twists my gut in knots, but it also makes me even more aware of how precious and irreplaceable she is. I’m not going to waste a moment of the time we have together, however long that might be. I’m going to love her even more than I did before, and on the day death eventually catches up with one of us, I won’t have any regrets, only wishes.
Even if we live to be a hundred, I will still wish for more time.
And more nights like these.