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27. Neavh

"Do you want to go surfing today?"

I blink at David where he's sitting on the couch. My eyes still haven't fully adjusted from leaving the darkness of my room, and the midmorning light streaming in through the window is blinding.

"Huh?" I say, my voice groggy.

After napping until the early afternoon once David got me into bed yesterday, I returned to my slumber shortly past 9PM and proceeded to sleep a solid twelve hours straight last night.

Turns out insomnia can really do a number on you.

David does his best to muffle a laugh as I continue to blink at him. I can only imagine how I must look, squinting like a disoriented bat. I haven't looked in the mirror yet, but I can tell my hair is an absolute bird's nest, and my pajama shirt is on inside out.

"Do you want to surf?" he repeats. "You've got the morning off, and I don't have anything pressing at the bar today, so I thought we could drive up to Tofino and rent some boards. You can show me all the sick moves you picked up in Australia."

I scoff. "I've been surfing, like, six times in my life."

He tilts his head. "So you're saying you don't have sick moves?"

"Whoa now." I hold a hand up. "I didn't say that."

He grins. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

He jumps up off the couch and nods at his open laptop sitting on the coffee table.

"I checked the surf report for Cox Bay. If we leave in the next twenty minutes or so, we should get a couple nice hours in."

I raise my eyebrows. "You checked the surf report? Since when did you become such a beach boy?"

He rolls his eyes. "I live an hour's drive away from the most famous surf town in Canada. I know how to check a surf report, okay?"

I make a hang loose gesture and do my best impersonation of a dopey Cali surfer guy. "Rock on, gnarly dude."

He walks over and flicks my head before I have a chance to defend myself.

"Ow!" I screech even though it barely hurt.

"Do you want to go or not?" he demands. "I thought we could do something fun together today, but if you're going to be a brat about it…"

"Noooo!" I moan. "I wanna go!"

I make a pleading puppy dog face while he glares at me. We only keep the exchange up for a couple seconds before we both burst out laughing.

Things feel lighter between us, like we're cousins goofing around at boring holiday dinners again. The tension of this past week has evaporated, and while the rest of my life might feel like a trembling Jenga tower missing a few too many pieces, this part right here is solid and strong.

This is a part I can build from while I figure out the rest.

"Thank you," I say once our laughter has passed. "It would be really great to do something fun just the two of us."

I hurry through my morning routine and scrounge up some breakfast before stuffing a bathing suit and a few other beach supplies into a small backpack David lends me.

We both gear up in motorcycle-proof pants and long sleeves before piling onto David's bike. I whoop loud enough for him to hear me over the rumble of the engine as we pull out of the driveway, my helmet knocking against his when we hit a couple bumps.

"Watch it!" he complains with a fake stern glare.

He still whoops along with me when we hit the highway and speed out of River's Bend, heading up towards the coast.

I lean back, gripping the edge of the seat behind me, and stare up at the treetops high above us. The sun is darting in and out of the large clumps of clouds dotting the blue sky, streaking the highway in dappled pools of shadow and light.

The wind whips at my clothes, stealing my breath as I stretch my lungs with the deepest inhale I can manage. The fresh, earthy scent of the forest fills my nose, and the reverberations of the bike's engine rumble through me like thunder.

This island is pulsing with life, bursting with it, every second here a magnificent wonder as ancient as the plates of the earth deep beneath the ocean and as new as the chirping baby birds tucked in their nests high above our heads.

I feel ancient and new too, like I've seen far too much of this life and somehow also next to none of it.

So much is waiting for me. So much is calling. So much has yet to unfold.

We drive for an hour straight, the dense forests giving way to rocky coastlines and then, finally, the dusky sands of the beach.

The parking lot is already full, but David manages to squeeze the bike into an unofficial spot at the edge of the pavement. He says something about getting our boards and wetsuits, but I can barely hear him. My focus has already turned to the ocean.

The beach is dotted with spectators perched on towels and blankets, their eyes glued to the surfers bobbing in the waves like lazy seals. I watch the hypnotic dip and rise of their boards as they sit facing the horizon, waiting for the next wave worth catching. Some of them even lay stretched out on their stomachs to let the dark neoprene of their wetsuits soak up the sun.

Above the call of seabirds and the shouts of a few kids running around on the beach, I hear the constant crash and whoosh of the tide. The water beats a steady rhythm against the sand. The air is laced with the sharp scent of brine, and as soon as the smell hits my nose, I'm running.

I pry the helmet off my head as I tear across the beach, warring with gravity itself as the heavy sand threatens to slow me down. I keep pushing, my muscles straining and my blood pumping fast and hard as I make a beeline for the dark strip of sand where the ocean meets the earth.

I don't stop until I'm just a few steps away. Then I dump the helmet and yank my socks and shoes off in a hobbling frenzy before surging forward into the surf.

I shriek when the frigid water splashes up my ankles and calves. My jeans are soaked in an instant, but I don't care. I wade all the way out to my knees and let the waves swell around me.

There's nothing but sea and sky on the horizon, the perfect line of blue on blue broken only by the bobbing shapes of the surfers. I watch as one, then two, then a whole dozen of them whip their boards around to face the shore. They flip onto their stomachs and begin to paddle, slow at first, but then the wave cresting behind them nudges the tips of their boards, and their arms blur into a flurry of movement as they dig in hard for a few final strokes.

Some don't even make the pop up to their feet. They fall behind, letting the wave rush past them to carry the others on. Some stand for only a fraction of a second before tipping over and tumbling into the cold water.

A few of them make it.

A few of them find their stride, knees bent at the perfect angle, feet splayed at the perfect distance. They glide in harmony with the water, rocking and rolling in time with the rhythm of the wave all the way into the shore.

I shoot my arms up in the air and cheer at the top of my lungs. I whoop and clap like I'm watching my best friends out there, and when I'm done, I laugh.

I tip my face up to the sky, and I laugh like I haven't laughed in years.

I laugh like I'm free. I laugh like no matter how many bumps in the road seem to indicate otherwise, I know I will always be okay.

"What are you laughing at, you maniac?"

I glance behind me and find David waiting on the sand, his arms crossed as he shakes his head and grins at me.

"I don't even know!" I shout over the sound of the waves, beaming at him.

I turn back to the ocean, and I let myself feel everything: the colours, the shapes, the smells, the sounds. I let it fill me up, let it all seep into me like sunlight, and as I charge out farther into the salty depths while David yells about me soaking my only clothes, I realize it's possible to run without running from something.

It's possible to run just because sometimes, running feels really fucking good.

"What do you say?" David asks as he bobs on his board beside mine. "One last wave before we pack it in?"

We've been out here chasing waves for at least a couple hours. David's meticulous top knot has turned into a matted mess hanging down into his eyes, and I'm sure my own hair looks just as ridiculous. Our faces are flushed with exertion, and despite the icy water, I'm panting and tugging at the tight neck of my wetsuit.

"Yeah," I answer. "One more sounds good."

I'm dreaming of a pile of fries and an ice cold Pepsi from wherever the nearest snack shack is, but I order my stomach to hold out for one last ride.

David and I scan the horizon alongside the rest of the surfers, squinting against the glittering reflection of the sun as we search for the first hints of a wave worthy enough to take us into the shore.

David and I aren't exactly the world's greatest surfers, and we've only had a couple rides longer than a few seconds today, but I still have hope.

I have hope.

The feeling grows with every breath I take, with every drop of water that splashes against my skin. The whole world seems brighter, closer, like I've peeled back a layer of thick plastic I didn't know was separating me from my own life.

"There!" David shouts.

I follow the line of his finger pointing out to sea, and I spot the wave that's got a few of the other surfers excited too. We wait for it to come closer, watching to see if it will continue to grow. When all signs point to yes, we join the ritual of turning our boards and getting into position.

I start to paddle, tuning all my senses to catching the exact right moment. I hear the whoosh of the wave, and I paddle harder, fighting the tug of the water as it begins to draw me backwards. I dig my right hand in hard, then my left, before I grip the board and pop up to stand.

My feet land exactly where they're supposed to, my weight centered and my gaze fixed to the shore. I don't wobble at all as the wave propels me forward, sweeping me along at top speed while it barrels towards the beach.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see David topple over and land with a splash, but I don't break my concentration.

I breathe deep, making small adjustments with my hips to compensate for the bumps of the wave as I get closer and closer to land.

It's the longest ride of my life.

I make it all the way until my momentum runs out and I'm able to take a gentle hop off the board, landing in water that reaches halfway up my shins.

I hear cheering behind me, and I turn around to find not just David clapping for me where he's out walking his board into shore, but a few of the other surfers as well. They stick their thumbs in the air, nodding their approval, and I beam at them as I nod back.

"That was sick!" David shouts once he's close enough for me to hear him.

"Thanks!" I shout back.

"I knew you must have picked up some sick moves in Australia," he says after tucking his board under his arm and coming to join me in the shallows. "Your balance is crazy."

I shake my head, still grinning. "Nah. I think I picked my balance up here."

We spend the next twenty minutes getting our boards and wetsuits dropped off at the rental stand. My jeans are a sopping, sand-coated mess, so I opt for wearing a towel as a skirt instead. David won't stop laughing at how ridiculous I look while we make the short walk up the road to the snack shack.

I pull my phone out of my backpack to check the time and freeze when I see I've got a message from Clover.

"What is it?" David asks, spinning around when he realizes I'm no longer walking beside him.

"She texted me."

I haven't even unlocked the phone. All I can do is stare at the notification while water drips down from the tips of my hair to dampen my t-shirt.

"Who texted you?"

I look up at him with wide eyes. My heart is booming like a bass drum, and I've started breathing hard.

"Ohhhh," David says, a knowing look on his face as he assesses the state of me. "What did Clover say?"

I look back down at the phone. "I don't know. I haven't read it."

I keep staring at the screen while beachgoers trailing to and from the snack shack swerve around us.

"Are you…going to read it?" David asks.

Part of me is so nervous I'm considering sprinting back to the beach so I can chuck the phone in the ocean and ignore the message forever, but the rest of me is burning to know what's in the text.

I haven't heard from Clover at all since she messaged to say she was leaving River's Bend for a few days. I brace for the worst as I pull up our text conversation. My jaw is clenched so tight my teeth ache, and the letters swim in front of my eyes for a few seconds before I'm able to read them.

Then I shriek.

"What?" David yelps. "What is it?"

"She said she misses me!" I shout. "She wants to meet up as soon as I can!"

David's confusion morphs into a dopey-looking smile.

"Fuck yeah!" he shouts, punching the air.

A mom passing by with her two small kids gives him a dirty look.

"I mean, uh, heck yeah!" he amends.

He comes over to slap my hand with a high five. I'm so shocked I barely feel it.

"This is good, right? Like, if it was bad, she wouldn't have said she misses me? Right?"

David plants his hands on my shoulders. "It's good, Neavh."

"Right." I nod way too many times. "Right."

"Why don't you tell her to come meet you here?"

I gawk at him. "Here? Now?"

He lets me go and shrugs. "Why not? She said as soon as you're available, right? You're at the beach. It's a beautiful day. Why don't you see if she can drive up and meet you?"

I wrack my brain for any compelling reasons why that's a terrible idea, but aside from the way my heart is still racing with nerves, I have to admit he's making a lot of sense.

"You know what?" I say. "Why not? I'm gonna text her."

I let the adrenaline high carry me through typing a quick message and hitting send.

Then my stomach flips.

"Oh god. I did it. What have I done? I have to take it back!"

Before I can type anything else, David plucks my phone out of my hands and holds it high above his head.

"No, you do not," he commands. "You will come to the snack shack with me. We will get fries, and I will not return your phone until Clover has answered."

He keeps holding the phone aloft like a trophy as he leads the way up the path. I've got no choice but to follow, whining requests for him to give it back the whole way to the shack.

We've just put our order in and claimed a seat on a nearby weather-beaten log when I see my phone light up in David's hands.

"She answered!" I shriek.

I lunge for the phone, and David practically chucks it at me to avoid being tackled.

"Oh my god!" I yell, unable to speak at a normal volume despite the continued dirty looks we're getting from a couple families nearby. "She's coming! She's driving over right now!"

I'm not sure how I manage to get through the next hour of waiting without going so crazy I end up casting myself into the sea. I consider it a few times, but I settle for munching through my fries despite the fact that I can't taste anything.

David suggests we take a beach walk once we're done eating. We're still down by the shore when Clover texts to tell me she's arrived.

"That's my cue," David says after I've shrieked the announcement. "Good luck, cuz. Go get your girl."

"W-wait," I stammer as he begins heading up the beach. "You're leaving?"

He chuckles. "Do you really want your cousin here for this?"

"Uh…"

I try to think about how I'd explain that to Clover.

"You'll be fine," David says with another chuckle. "Call me if you need anything. I'm assuming she's giving you a ride home."

I sputter out a few more protests, but he's already turned around. I watch as he makes his way across the sand to the parking lot. The crowd has thinned now that the surf has died down, but there are still enough vehicles parked that I can't spot Clover.

With my hands trembling, I begin to type out a message to let her know I'm down by the water. My fingers are shaking so bad I keep making typos, and it takes me a minute before I'm ready to hit send.

Just as I'm about to do it, I hear a shout from across the beach and look up.

Clover is making her way towards me, sandals in hand as she passes hopeful sunbathers waiting for the clouds to disappear. All I can do is stand and watch as she makes her way to the deserted stretch of shore I've claimed for myself.

She looks stunning.

She looks like the sun itself, descending on the beach to bask us all in her glow. Her copper hair gleams where it hangs in two loose braids, and even in some old cargo shorts and a Three Rivers tank top, she's enough to turn heads—or at least, I assume she is; I can't spare even a second to look at anyone besides her.

There's a shy smile on her face, and when she steps up in front of me, her gaze flicks down to the sand before she meets my eyes.

"Clover," I breathe.

It's all I can say. Her name almost feels like an incantation, like a spell to keep her here so she doesn't fade away.

We've been apart for less than a week, but I marvel at the sight of her like it's been years.

She rocks on her heels, that nervous smile still flickering on her lips.

"Hi," she says.

She glances at my outfit, and my face burns when I remember I'm standing here in nothing but a t-shirt and a towel with my bare feet stuffed into my damp, sand-coated sneakers. My hair is caked with saltwater and drying into a gnarled mess.

"Were you…swimming?" she asks.

"Surfing."

Her eyes widen. "I didn't know you surf now."

I huff a laugh. "I barely surf."

I'm going to leave it at that, but the memory of my last ride today surfaces in my mind, and for some reason, I'm hit with the urge to tell her about it.

"But I did pretty good today," I add. "I think I beat my own record with the last wave of the day."

All the hesitation leaves Clover's face. She beams at me with the full force of her smile, and even though I've never been much of a photographer, my hands twitch with the urge to whip my phone out and capture this moment forever.

She's so goddamn beautiful.

"I wish I could have seen that," she says.

I might be imagining it, but I swear there's almost a wistful tone to her voice, like she really does regret not being here.

"So you…you, uh…" I stammer, scrambling to find something normal to say. "How are you?"

It's possibly the most un-suave thing I could have gone with, but her smile doesn't drop.

"I'm good," she says. "Actually, I'm great."

I realize I'm smiling back at her. I have no idea what's happening or where this is going, but if Clover is great, there's a part of me that will always be happy about it, no matter the circumstances.

"That's great," I say. "That's so great."

"I quit school."

My jaw drops so fast I'm surprised it doesn't hit the sand.

"What?"

She nods, still beaming. I wonder if I need to clean my ears out. There's no way Clover Rivers looks that happy about not going to school.

"Yeah," she says, her cheeks turning a little pink. "Sorry for cutting right to the chase, but, uh, that's the big thing I wanted to tell you. Well, one of the big things."

I'm not sure how much bigger things could get. I'm still not convinced I heard her correctly.

"You're…not going back to school?"

She shakes her head and rocks back on her heels. "Not for the time being. I officially dropped out of my Master's program today."

I know I must be gaping at her like a fish, but I can't get my mouth to close.

"What? Why?"

She presses her lips together for a moment before she answers, dropping her voice to a murmur. "Because you were right."

I blink. "Me?"

"Yeah, you," she says with a low chuckle. "You were right about me. I wasn't being honest with myself about what I wanted. I wasn't being brave."

Regret churns in my stomach as I think back on that day at the yurt.

"Clover, I'm so sorry. I never should have said any of that. I—"

"No," she interrupts. "You should have. Nobody else was going to, and I…I needed it. So thank you."

The revelation finally sinks in, and it nearly sends me toppling over into the sand.

She's telling the truth. She's leaving school.

"What are you going to do?" I blurt.

"I want to travel." She pauses to glance out at the ocean for a moment before adding, "I want to travel like…like we planned."

This time I really do have to take a wobbling step backwards to keep myself from collapsing.

Like we planned.

I have no idea what that means. It can't be what I think. It can't be what I hope.

"I want to see the world," she continues, "and I don't want a predetermined timeline for doing it. I just want to see where life leads me for a while."

My stomach knots, and I do my best to keep from wincing.

She doesn't seem to want to go with me. That shouldn't matter. I should be happy for her. She's following her heart. There was never any guarantee her heart would lead her to me.

"Clover, that's…that's amazing," I choke out. "I'm so happy for you."

She gives me a soft smile while the wind whips at the ends of her braids.

She's so beautiful it hurts.

"What about you?" she asks. "Something is different about you too. I can tell."

I have to look away. I'm going to fall apart if I keep staring at her.

"Oh, um, I called my parents yesterday," I answer without thinking.

She gasps. "You did?"

I nod, still staring down at the sand. "Yeah. It…did not go well."

She drops her voice to a consoling murmur. "I'm so sorry, Neavh."

I shake my head. "That's okay. It was still…good?"

I should probably resist over-sharing, but now that I've started, I can't keep the words from tumbling out.

"It felt…necessary. It felt like a change. I said some things I've needed to say to them for a while, and I realized…well, I realized you were right about me too."

"Huh?" Clover squeaks.

"I have been running," I explain. "I've been trying to see the world, but I don't think you can really see the world until you're ready to see yourself, and the truth is, I didn't want to see myself. I was afraid of how much that might hurt."

She takes a step closer to me. I fight the urge to reach out and touch her. My body is begging to have her arms wrapped around me.

"It did hurt," I say, "but not in the way I thought. I thought I wasn't good enough to fix my parents, but I think I'm realizing…you can't fix anyone. You can help them. You can support them, but they have to be willing to do it themselves. My parents aren't ready to face that, but I am. That hurts, but it's the truth."

She lets out a quiet sigh, the sound echoing the retreating waves of the sea. "Oh, Neavh…"

Saying all this out loud has helped to steady me. I ball my hands into fists and plant my feet firmer in the sand.

Maybe I've missed my shot with Clover. Maybe the tide is dragging us apart again, but that doesn't mean I'm losing everything I've gained the past few days. That strength is mine to keep.

"It'll take work, of course," I say, staring out at the waves. "I have a lot to learn and figure out, but I'm done being stuck. I'm done thinking I'm broken. I'm done running away from…from people I care about."

I manage to keep my voice from cracking, but I still sniff when I'm done. I keep watching the waves, hoping the noise of them is enough to mask my sniffling.

"That's beautiful."

I see Clover take another step closer out of the corner of my eye. We're just a few inches apart now, standing shoulder to shoulder as we observe the endless blue in front of us.

"God, you're gonna have so many amazing adventures out there," I say.

In that moment, I don't have to force it.

I'm happy for her.

"Neavh."

She says my name with a force I wasn't expecting. She almost sounds annoyed. I look over and find her squinting at me.

"Yeah?"

Her eyes search my face for a moment before she speaks again. "I want to go with you."

My breath catches, my whole system freezing up like a malfunctioning computer.

"W-what?"

She angles herself between me and the ocean, so I've got no choice but to stare deep into her gold-flecked eyes.

"I want to travel with you, just like we planned all those years ago. Was that not clear?"

I blink a few times, replaying the conversation, desperate to figure out what the hell is going on.

"Uh…no?"

My ears are ringing, and my skin burns like I've got heatstroke.

"Well, then let me make it clear."

She grabs my hand, gripping me tight, and begins to drag me out into the water.

I take a few fumbling steps before I manage to kick my shoes off. The next wave surges up to splash our feet with icy droplets and bubbling foam.

Clover keeps going, only stopping once we're up to our shins with foam spraying in the air around us. She lets my hand drop and then cups both my cheeks with her palms. My heart rate spikes, my pulse thumping loud and fast in my ears.

"You," she says, her eyes locked on mine, "are one of the most frustrating, challenging, and fucking amazing things that has ever happened to me. Knowing you changed my life back then, and it's changed my life all over again now. We didn't get to finish our story before, but we have the chance to write the rest of it now."

Trembling, I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment. When I open them, she's still there.

She hasn't moved. She hasn't left. She hasn't disappeared.

"You really wanna go with me?" I ask, my voice thick.

She smoothes my hair off my forehead and nods. "I really do."

She brushes the tip of her nose against mine, and the gesture is so sweet, so intimate, so loving that there's no way for me to hold back my tears.

The salt from my eyes trickles down my cheeks to join the salt of the sea.

Clover catches a tear with her thumb and brushes it aside.

"Listen to me," she says, leaning in even closer. "The second that eight grand drops in your bank account, we're both buying tickets to Peru, okay?"

I'm shocked straight out of crying as I let out a surprised laugh.

"Peru?"

Then it hits me.

"That's where we were going to go."

That was our plan. She'd finish her first year of university, and we'd take off for South America together, starting in Peru with no definite destinations after that.

We were going to let life make the plans for us.

"That's where we're going," Clover urges, "if you…if you want, that is. I'd understand if you needed to say no. I guess if I haven't even asked if you're still planning on travelling. I—"

I can't stand the doubt in her voice. I can't stand the way her lip trembles.

I can't stand another second of this woman thinking there's even a shred of a chance I'm leaving her behind again.

"Clover." I reach up to lay my hands over hers where they're still cupping my face. "I've seen more of this planet in twenty-two years than most people get to see in their whole lives, but none of it held a candle to you. Of course I want to go with you. I'm ready to do it all for real now. I'm so fucking tired of the past dragging me down and taking things away from me…"

I trail off for a moment.

I wait for the voice in my head to tell me all the reasons I can't promise her this, all the reasons she'd be better off with someone else.

I wait as one wave surges past us, then another, and another.

No voice comes.

The only voice that's speaking now is mine.

"So let's get the hell on a plane to Peru," I tell her. "There is no version of my life's story that doesn't include you."

I don't wait again. I don't hesitate.

When it comes to Clover Rivers, I'm never waiting again.

I kiss her.

I kiss her so hard I forget how to breathe. I kiss her so hard the earth spins in reverse and all the oceans crash and collide. I kiss her like I'm trying to call every star down from the sky.

I don't need to keep chasing stars, though. I don't need to keep wishing for more wishes.

As I wrap my arms tight around the girl who I'm pretty sure has turned out to be the goddamn love of my life and send us both toppling over into the Pacific, shrieking and laughing as we fall, I know I've already been granted the best wish I could ever make.

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