17. Sail

sail

. . .

S ail rolled over and quieted his alarm as fast as he could. He scrubbed his hand over his face and swore under his breath. It was early. Far too early to be up. Especially when he had Galvin’s naked body nestled against his.

Last night, they chatted about their relationship and he all but asked her to take him out of the friend zone. There was a brief moment when he thought she was going to tell him no. She hadn’t and he promptly kissed her while carrying her to bed. As much as he wanted to be with her, he resisted the urge to ask her. Sail figured she’d tell him when they were ready to take the final step.

Instead, they had intense rounds of foreplay, ate takeout in bed, turned on a movie on, and then he spent the night kissing and caressing every inch of her body.

Galvin mumbled in her sleep. “Ssh,” he said quietly. “Go back to sleep.” Sail kissed her forehead and slowly pulled his arm out from under her. Instantly regretting the early wake-up call. He had his eyes on the prize though. The fifty-thousand-dollar purse screamed his name. Winning was a longshot, but Sail had all the confidence in the world he could pull it off.

He just had to practice and that meant leaving the comfortable bed of his new girlfriend and braving the early morning cold, likely with wind.

Wind would be his friend.

“Where are you going?” Galvin asked sleepily.

“I’m meeting the guys for practice.” The guys being his brothers.

It was easy to convince Dune, who would’ve entered the competition if there hadn’t been an age limit. Tidal said he’d help, on occasion. While Crew flat out said, “Hell no.” Sail understood. Crew was still in high school and had his own practices to attend to.

After Sail dressed, he knelt on the bed and kissed Galvin goodbye. “I’ll see you later?”

She mumbled something unintelligible, but he thought it was cute. So cute he almost said fuck it and crawled back into bed. Doing so wouldn’t win him any money, nor would it prove to his dad that he can change his bad habits. That he has changed his bad habits.

Sail tiptoed through the studio, stopping at the counter to write his number on the notepad Galvin had on the refrigerator.

Call me later. Sail

It was far too early in their relationship, even as a friend, to leave her the ridiculous hearts he thought about drawing. As he reread his short statement, he contemplated adding Love, Sail, but then figured Galvin would freak out.

Honestly, the L word made him freak a little on the inside too.

As he left, ensuring he locked the door behind him, Sail couldn’t help but imagine the moment he would tell Galvin how he felt. From the moment he stepped into the diner, afraid to confront his father and only to find her there, Sail knew that Galvin was different from anyone he’d ever met, and certainly ever dated.

Staying over at Galvin’s allowed Sail an extra half hour of sleep because she lived so close to the marina. When Sail arrived, he found Dune and Tidal working on the dinghy he would use for the competitions. Tidal clipped the two poles for the mast into place and then flipped Sail off as he came toward them.

“Nice to see you made it home last night,” Tidal said to his brother.

“Bite me.”

“I’m sure she did.” Tidal laughed.

Sail rolled his eyes and went to Dune, who began unrolling the sail onto the grass. Sail hoped there wasn’t anything on the ground that could ruin the sail. Once they had it unrolled, Dune lifted the edge, while Sail threaded the mast through the opening. He could do this by himself, but having his brothers there made things go smoother. Not to mention, he liked the company.

“It’s a good thing it’s not windy right now,” Dune said as they finished rigging the sail.

“Except I need the wind,” Sail said.

“You’ll be fine once you get out there. That’s one of the nice things about Seaport, there is always wind, especially on the water.”

While they were adding the straps to connect the sail and mast, Jack arrived.

“Hey, Dad,” Tidal said first.

“Morning, boys. Sail, do you need any help?”

Sail froze for a moment and then nodded. He didn’t need help because he had Dune and Tidal, but he and his father hadn’t been on the best terms since Sail’s return, and he figured this was an olive branch. Sail needed to take it and extend his own. The four of them worked together, making the process much faster.

Normally, Sail would be the first to say, rig your own dinghy, but he trusted his brothers and dad explicitly. They would never do anything to hurt or put him in danger. Everyone worked seamlessly, knowing what to do and when.

Jack, being the patriarch, gave directions without criticism. He was calm and collected. Saying things such as, “this might work better if we spin this,” or “bring this line under to avoid hitting the sail.” The boys listened, deferring to their father who had more than enough experience.

While his dad and brothers finished up, Sail attached the rudder to the dinghy. Once he had it ready, Jack picked up the mast and brought it over to Sail. Together, they slid the mast into the dinghy carefully.

And then the wind picked up.

“There she is,” Dune said, clapping his hands. Sail shook his head and continued to tie his lines. The Carter men continued to work, each taking a section of the dinghy to focus on.

And then three of them stepped away, leaving Sail alone.

It was his turn to become one with the dinghy. He’d done this a million times during his competition days it was almost a rite of passage. His dad and brothers knew he needed this time to double check everything otherwise he’d never forgive himself if something failed while he was sailing.

Sail checked that all the lines—vang, outhaul, and cunningham—were rigged correctly and ensured the mainsheet ran smoothly through all blocks. He tested and retested before moving to the rudder and daggerboard. Both of which were secure.

Finally, he stepped back and shook his head.

“What’s wrong?” Jack asked.

“Nothing,” Sail said. “I just can’t believe I’m going to do this.”

Dune rested his hand on Sail’s shoulder. “If anyone can do it, you can.”

“The purse is huge,” Tidal said. “Are you sure it’s for a one-week competition?”

Sail had thought the same thing. He checked and doubled checked, but every chat board he found confirmed what he read on the website: one week of competition, all based on speed and points, grand prize was life changing.

He fiddled with the lines for a few more minutes before heading into the changing room at the marina. The wetsuit had been from when he last competed. It was tight in a few places but would do until he could get a new one ordered. While they had boating shops on the island, sometimes items like a wetsuit specific for dinghies weren’t always available when you walked into the store.

Before leaving the bathroom, Sail stared at his reflection in the somewhat cloudy mirror. No one had said anything about the scratch marks on his neck, and he hoped the peanut gallery would keep their mouths shut. Especially in front of their dad. Dune knew where Sail had stayed last night and Tidal definitely had his suspicions, but their parents . . . that was a conversation for later. Sail didn’t want to hear how he shouldn’t be with Galvin. Honestly, there wasn’t anything his parents could say to change his mind. He liked her. A lot.

A lot more than he’d ever liked anyone.

Exiting the bathroom, he adjusted himself best he could and made his way over to his family. The dinghy was light weight, and something he could move by himself, but his brothers helped him put it in the water.

“We’re going for speed and agility this morning,” Jack said as Sail stepped into the water. “Get reacquainted with the ebb and flow. Tomorrow, we’ll run some obstacles. I have people on standby to help us out.”

Sail blinked. “Th—” his voice caught, forcing him to swallow the lump in his throat. “Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it.”

Jack patted his son on his shoulder and offered a smile. “Let’s do this.”

Dune and Tidal hopped into the speed boat the Carter’s owned and trolled out of the marina. One of them would video Sail, giving them all something to critique and work on.

“Good luck, Sail. Stay focused,” Jack said as Sail climbed into the dingy.

Sail thanked him and hoped this competition would bring them closer or at least Jack would forgive him for being suspended and costing his father money. Sail took one last glance at his father and then headed toward the open water.

The morning air grew crisper the farther he moved away from shore, thankful to have his wetsuit on. A faint mist still clung to the water’s surface, but the sun began rising higher, promising to be a beautiful fall day.

It was quiet out there, just the soft lap of waves and the occasional squawk of a gull. The fishing boats had long left the harbor and barely a car drove across the bridge. Soon, the islands would come to life with people commuting to work and school.

Sail’s heart thumped with anticipation, and maybe a little bit of anxiety, the type that came right before a major competition. And eagerness. Sail wanted to win.

The wind fills the sail and the boat glides forward, rocking Sail gently. The mainsheet is rough, but familiar as he eases it out slightly. The boom shifts overhead as the breeze coming off the water hits him in the face.

Cool and steady.

Exactly what he’d hoped for.

And then the wind picked up.

His legs burned as his body stretched over the side. The dinghy responds, slicing through the water with purpose and grace.

“Yes,” Sail let out an exhilarating scream. He’d missed this, his true passion.

“Stay flat and balance out,” he muttered as his thighs wailed in agony. Sail was out of shape and had little time to work out, but he would. He’d find the time.

The muscle memory quickly returned. Each maneuver was like second nature to him. Sailing wasn’t just about one or two good moves, it was about stringing them together, feeling the rhythm of the wind and adjusting to the water.

Sail practiced tacking until his arms were heavy and wobbly, and blisters formed on his palms. It’d been far too long since he felt the sting of the ties trace across his skin.

After a while, each tack smoothed out and his movements came more instinctive. He was now the ebb and flow, guiding effortlessly around buoys, much to the pleasure of his brothers. They cheered. Encouraged him when he picked up speed.

Sail’s adrenaline spiked as a gust of wind hit. Salty ocean spray whipped his face, and he hollered in excitement. He didn’t care if he was cold, this was worth it.

“Hold her steady,” he said to himself. “Treat her right and she’ll love you back.”

He’d always been good to his equipment, taking pride in what he bought, earned, or had been given as a gift. All except the education his father provided for him. Now, more than ever, Sail was determined to get back to Miami, excel and finish school on time.

Despite arms burning, shaky legs, and his mind slapping him silly with realization, Sail stayed low, fluid and moved with the boat and not against it. He exhaled slowly, keeping his breathing steady. Every move he made counted. Not just in the boat, but in life as well. Regardless of the outcome of the race, Sail would be a better person eventually.

Today, chasing the wind would be enough.