9. Ziggy

Chapter nine

Ziggy

T he sky was clear blue, and the bright morning sun rose, sending reflections, like diamonds, across the gentle waves in Whistleport Harbor. Kade and I waited together for the ferry to Stormbreaker Island.

I'd invited him to join me, and my stomach nervously churned. For the first time, we would have hours of one-on-one time away from the town's prying eyes. This thing with him, whatever it was, was suddenly way too real.

I had an orange backpack slung over my shoulders as we walked across weathered planks to the ferry landing. It held provisions for a picnic on the island, where concessions were scarce.

Kade turned toward me. "Ready for our big adventure?"

I shook my head slightly. "Ease up. It's just a tiny rock with a lighthouse. Don't expect a carnival. I think they have a bar/restaurant/B&B at the landing with a tiny store and maybe five houses."

While we boarded the ferry, he touched my pack. "What's in there? Are you bringing hockey pucks and protein shakes?"

I chuckled softly. "I suppose that's for you to find out… later."

The ferry's engine chugged to life with a roar and a lurch, while we moved away from the dock. Whistleport grew smaller and less distinct behind us.

While my nervousness didn't surprise me, the subtle sense of relief did. Considering why I felt that way, I concluded that it was because away from Whistleport, we could be ourselves. We could set the local college hockey hero and rich boy from away identities aside.

We were just Ziggy and Kade. Still, the change brought along a specific responsibility. It was time to face whatever was growing between us.

As Kade stood at the railing facing out to sea, the wind whipped through his hair. He looked somehow different already—more relaxed.

I nudged him with my elbow, and I couldn't resist some good-natured teasing. "First time on an ocean-going vessel?"

He rolled his eyes. "Please, I've been on plenty of boats in my lifetime. They were just… well, bigger, with waiters."

When we settled onto a bench on the bow, Captain Hank appeared. His grin highlighted the creases in his weathered face. "Well, look at that. It's young Mr. Knickerbocker and his new shadow. Does that mean trouble on the way?"

Kade extended his hand, "Morning, sir."

I watched Kade's hand disappear into Captain Hank's grip. "Sir, he says. He's a good man, Ziggy. Has manners." The good captain ordered us to be friendly. "You can call me Hank. Everybody does."

With a churn of the water behind us, the ferry pulled away from the dock. Captain Hank continued the conversation with a more probing question. "Is there something you boys are looking for out on Stormbreaker on a beauty of a day like this?"

I tugged my backpack further up my shoulders. "Just showing the new guy the sights, Cap. Figured I'd educate Kade on something other than hockey for once."

Captain Hank smiled. "To be young again, exploring my world. Just watch your steps out there. Stormbreaker's got a few nasty cliffs. If you fall, I'm not as good at scrambling over the rocks on rescue missions as I used to be."

Kade leaned against the railing, staring out toward the island, still a thin line of greenish-black against the horizon. "Have you been running the ferry out here long?"

"Quite a bit longer than you've been on this planet, son. Started on my first regular trips out to the island when I was just a young boy, helping my old man. Seen so many things come and go through the years. You never know who might have a reason to head this way—tourists, locals, and even a few celebrities."

Kade raised an eyebrow. "Have you got some good stories to share?"

Captain Hank grinned. "Wild stories that'd curl your hair. There once was a Nor'easter on the way with a whole wedding party heading out to Stormbreaker. I suggested they camp out on the mainland until the storm passed, but they insisted on going anyway. The ocean waves dumped on the ferry, soaking the bride's dress. It was so heavy, I thought it'd sink the boat."

We laughed. Captain Hank had the kind of stories I'd heard around Dad and his friends my whole life. I was happy to see Kade fit so easily into the conversation.

Hank shared another story. "Then there was the summer of '85. A Hollywood movie crew decided the island would be a good place for a film. I think I showed up in two seconds of the final cut of the flick."

Kade eagerly asked questions and encouraged more storytelling. While watching him interact with Captain Hank, I saw my home through new eyes. Seeing Kade soak it all in, I suddenly remembered why I used to think the place was magic. It was funny how it took an outsider to remind me.

When we neared the island, the scent of the tall pine trees carried out over the waves. "Ziggy, make sure you show your friend the view from the old lighthouse. You can see clear to Nova Scotia on a day like today."

I nodded. "Sure thing, Cap'n." I knew it was impossible to see Nova Scotia, but I Ioved Captain Hank's earnest exaggeration. "And thanks for the ride."

Hank called to us while we headed off the ferry to set foot on the island. "Remember, back 15 minutes before the last ferry leaves, or you're swimming home. No exceptions made."

I called back over my shoulder. "Got It. We'll be here."

The ferry pulled away from the dock, and we strolled the twenty yards or so to the rocky island's shore. Kade turned toward me. "Captain Hank's quite a character. Is everyone in Whistleport a storyteller?"

I laughed. "Yep, I think it's pretty close to that. If you're here long enough, you'll likely end up as part of one of his tales yourself."

The island was like a patchwork quilt with rocky cliffs, groups of scrubby pine trees, and the narrow path connecting them to the lighthouse. It stood like a sentinel on the opposite end of the island. I'd been to Stormbreaker several times before, but somehow, with Kade at my side, it felt different, ripe with opportunities.

I gripped his elbow briefly. "C'mon. I know a good spot."

As we hiked, the air was full of the crunch of gravel under our feet and the distant cry of seagulls. I glanced at Kade and wondered what he was thinking. Was he nervous, too?

We reached a secluded cove with smooth stones and a narrow sandy beach. I'd discovered it years earlier while hiking around with Eric Callahan. I came back once alone, and it soon became my favorite secret hideaway.

Kade kicked off his sneakers and stood, flexing his toes, in the shallow water. "Not bad, Ziggy. Maybe you can try for a career in vacation planning if the whole hockey thing doesn't pan out."

I snorted. "Yeah, it can join the list of backup careers. I've already got professional puck polisher and lobster whisperer as options.

Sitting on a driftwood log, I pulled an old thin quilt out of my pack and spread it on the sand. I'd had some help with the food I brought. Mom knew what she was doing when it came to packing a lunch. We had ham and cheese sandwiches on homemade sourdough bread with a container of fresh strawberries dusted with sugar.

Kade joined me and surveyed the bounty. "And here I assumed you'd throw together protein bars and energy drinks."

"Hey, I might be a small-town guy, but I know how to eat." I tossed him a sandwich. "Give it a try."

After the first bite, his eyes opened wider. "Okay, taking it back. This tastes amazing."

The island was breezy, and the salt of the ocean hung heavy in the air. I watched Kade out of the corner of my eye. It was incredibly comfortable as if we'd been taking little trips together for years. A few weeks back, sharing a getaway meal with one of my biggest hockey rivals would have sounded laughable.

Kade swallowed water from one of the plastic bottles I brought along. "Well, now it's time to tell me the real reason you brought me out here. I'm not complaining about the food or the company, but my senses tell me there's more…"

My heart started to pound. The moment had arrived. Rubbing an old stain near the edge of the quilt, I took a deep breath. "Well, one thing is… I… I wrote a poem. It's kind of about the summer so far."

To me, I suddenly sounded like I was fumbling over all of my words.

Kade sat up straight. "A poem? About us?"

"Well, not only about us. It's more about everything. We've been through a lot it seems. There's the heatwave, Dad and me, and the arena competitions." I slowly tugged a folded paper from my jeans pocket. "You don't have to listen to it or read it if you don't want to. I'm no William Carlos Williams."

Kade chuckled softly. "Of course, I want to hear it."

I unfolded the paper and cleared my throat. Like always, I worried I was exposing too much of myself, including the internal parts, to the bright light of day. My voice was shaky at first, but it grew stronger by the end.

"Summer in Whistleport, a cauldron of change, Where rivals meet and reform in the sweltering heat. Ice gives way to sand, confidence to questions, As the tides of familiar shores recede.

In the thin gap between seasons and selves, We skate on thin ice, searching for solid ground. Each day a new drill, each night a new dream, Of who we were, who we are, who we might become.

The lighthouse beam sweeps across shore and water alike, Illuminating paths we never dared to tread. In the space between our breaths, between checks and goals, We find ourselves balanced on the knife-edge of opportunity."

A slight tremor swept through my body as my voice fell silent. I couldn't bring myself to look at Kade. Instead, I focused on a tiny crab scrambling toward a hole in the sand. Although I'd become more used to sharing my poetry during the year at UMaine, it was still hard when the audience included people important to me.

"Ziggy, that was… incredible. I love reading poetry, but I've always sucked at writing it."

I glanced up at Kade before looking down again. "And this didn't suck?"

"Way beyond that. I loved it."

I raised my head, surprised by the intensity in his eyes. "Yeah?"

He moved closer. "Nobody told me you could write like that. You didn't share anything at the poetry night. Surely, you have before. This was like you snatched the emotions right out of my chest and put them into words."

Kade's hand found mine, and our fingers intertwined like they'd been searching for each other all along. My heart raced, and the world tilted on its axis.

"Kade, I—"

He didn't let me finish the sentence before leaning in and kissing me. The taste of strawberries lingered on his lips. For a moment, I froze, feeling his soft lips resting on mine but not responding. Then, seconds later, I wrapped my arms around him, feverishly returning the kiss.

It was even better than our first because I expected it. At least, I thought we were likely to have another one, and I would have been shocked if Kade didn't feel the same.

I was a little dizzy when we finally parted, and my lips tingled. A giddy warmth bloomed in my chest. It spread to my face and formed what must have been the world's goofiest grin.

An emotion I can only describe as pure joy bubbled up inside. "Well, that's one way to critique a poem."

Kade grinned, but then he suddenly appeared serious. "Was that… okay? I know what we have still feels a little… undecided."

"So much more than okay." I squeezed his hand as my pulse pounded in my ears. "But… wow. I didn't expect it to blow me away… so much."

"Yeah… like…" He struggled for words. "So, I'm going to ask a stupid question, and slap me if you think it's bad. Anyway, have you ever—"

I interrupted him. "No, you're the first guy I've kissed." Admitting it made me feel vulnerable, but Kade smiled so gently, I had to continue. "Telling the truth, I've been so lost in hockey and poetry and nervous about what looking at guys on porn meant that I never really dated anyone. Sheesh, does that make me sound pathetic?"

He raised both eyebrows. "Are you serious? Damn, Ziggy, you're so good-looking and fun to be around. I thought they'd be lining up."

I laughed. "My buddy Eric has said he thinks they are, but I don't notice. He says I'm nice to the entire world and distant when it comes to getting… close."

"Well, I know that territory of having it be hard to figure things out. My parents' money makes some girls want to get in my pants, and I can't handle that. So damn hard to figure out who wants me for me. Make sense?" He picked up a small stone and tossed it out into the waves.

"Have you dated?"

He reached up and raked his fingers through his wind-tousled hair. "Yeah, I've dated, but only the right kind of girls. That means country club girls that meet my parents' approval." Kade stared out over the water. "None of it ever felt real. It was always like I was playing a part in a movie of my life, not living it."

"Now, the big questions for you. Are you ready for this?" I gripped his hand tightly and looked into his soulful brown eyes. "Guys? Yes? No? Dated?"

Kade took a deep breath, but I couldn't read his expression. "I've thought about it a lot more than I've ever admitted to anyone. I'm a porn watcher, too, but I've never had the guts to do anything in real life. Too afraid of what it would mean about me. So… then you crashed into my life."

His willingness to be so open with me was stunning. I couldn't think of what to say for a few minutes. Finally, my tongue was able to form words again. "I get it. Damn, man, I get it. The whole idea of not being who everybody thinks I am… scary stuff."

"Welcome to the Langston Lifeboat." Kade laughed. "Any conclusions?"

"Well, I mean, I love hockey, and my decision to be a lit major is my big rebellion against my dad, but this… it's beyond. It's a whole other part that no one would expect, at least I don't think so, not even Eric. Oh, maybe Rory would get it."

Kade squeezed my hand again. "And writing poetry? Have you written about guys in any of that?"

Somehow, that question made my shoulders relax, and I laughed louder. "I've got a box for those in the far corner of my closet. It's almost full. Poetry is my escape. I can let the feelings run wild without acting on them. But now… I think they caught up to me."

"Even scarier now because it's finally real… right?"

I smiled weakly. "Yeah… so what do we do?"

Kade breathed deeply as he gazed out at the horizon where the sea met the sky. "Don't know, but I think I want to find out. Do you?"

A smile spread across my face. "Yeah," I said, squeezing his hand. "I do."

Sitting there, I knew everything had changed, but I still wasn't sure what to call Kade's new role. Friend? I swallowed hard. Boy friend?

I broke the silence between us. "A month ago, if someone told me I'd be sitting on a beach holding hands with Kade Langston, I would've laughed in their face."

Kade chuckled. "Understand. If somebody told me I'd be kissing Ziggy Knickerbocker, I would've checked them for a concussion."