This moment wipes away the years of hurt, the years between the day after the Block Party and now.
It’s the moment that shows that I am not as strong as I thought, and my feelings for her aren’t as weak as I believed.
Dammit, Callie.
We finally break apart, not looking at each other.
I start the boat and slowly motor it out of the cave.
The sun is low over the island, but it seems too bright. It feels like I’ve been holding my breath for four years and just now exhaled.
“There are life vests under that seat,” I tell Callie, finally looking at her.
She sniffles, meeting my gaze.
Fuck, this girl is beautiful even with her face red and swollen from crying. Her blue eyes are even more luminous and sparkly with tears. The memory of how she felt in my arms makes my body want to wrap around her again.
“Will you save me if I start drowning?” she asks, chuckling and looking away.
I smile. And the sun seems to wink at me.
“Petal, that sounds easier than saving you from Archer Crone.”
We both smile and stare at the blue water that is calm and shimmering in the sun. The words bring back the memories, but they are not as hurtful anymore. As if a weight has been lifted off my chest.
Maybe we can be friends now.
She asks me to kill the motor, and when I sit on the bench across from her, she asks me about my family.
My dad. Lilly, my younger sister. Both gone.
So is her family.
We chat. And chat. And chat. Like the cave episode didn’t happen. Like we came out of some time warp that erased the horrible void between us.
We avoid talking about the Block Party like it’s a still a forbidden topic. We talk about the siblings we lost and the Change. She tells me about the world out there. I tell her about the island.
“You are lucky,” she says.
I shake my head.
“You know what the best thing about death is?” I glance at her.
She gapes at me. “Wow. I am surprised you put those words in the same sentence.”
“Yeah. Wow,” I echo, studying the horizon. “It’s when it strikes once and quickly. The worst part is when someone is dying slowly, miserably, in agony. When, before death, you face the ugliest side of human nature.”
I go quiet, remembering the night the Savages from the town attacked our village.
“It’s not all paradise here, petal. Shit happens.”
“Like what?”
I shrug. “Like hurricanes. Food shortages. The attacks of the Savages, who occasionally show up drunk or high. It’s…not pretty.”
Rape. Killings. Robberies.
I don’t say those words.