“Yeah,” he says simply. “I guess it is kinda like a heart.”
He gives a little half smile and is quiet for a long moment. I worry that he might say something about his own heart—Trent’s heart.
“So what do you think?” he asks instead. “You want to go in? It’s safe, I promise.” His eyebrows lift in a hopeful smile.
I know it probably is safe, and I trust him, I do. But there’s nothing safe about what I’m doing here with him, or the way it makes me feel, or the way he seems to trust me. Guilt tugs at my conscience, reminding me of every little wrong I’ve already done. But then something bigger sweeps through me, a pull toward Colton and toward this feeling I have right now.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, sending away all the things I don’t want to think about. And then I look at Colton, really look at him in a way I haven’t yet let myself.
“I do,” I say. “I want to.”
He doesn’t answer for a moment, just holds my eyes there in the bright sunlight. Then he smiles. “Good,” he says, like it’s another one of his little victories. “Because this is the part where you fall in love.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“[The heartbeat is] a link to the universal motion surrounding us, the tides and stars and winds, with their puzzling rhythms and unseen sources.”
—Stephen Amidon and Thomas Amidon, M.D.: The Sublime Engine: A Biography of the Human Heart
WE SIT A little ways off from the cavern, the kayak rising gently with each swell that passes beneath us, watching the water surge around the rock, then funnel in through the opening. I lean forward trying to see, like I have for the last ten waves, how much space there is between the surface of the water and the ceiling of the tunnel—it can’t be more than a foot or two higher than our kayak.
“You okay?” Colton asks. He uses his paddle to back us up a bit. “We don’t have to go in if you don’t want to.”
“I’m fine,” I lie. But the next words are the truth. “I really want to.” I count the beats it takes for the water to come rushing back out. “I just need to see it one more time, and then we can go in.”
“Okay,” Colton says, positioning us in front of the entrance. A few seconds later I feel another surge come from behind us and raise the kayak slightly. I watch the water funnel through the opening again. Fast.
“So remember what I said,” he tells me, moving us backward while keeping us angled at the opening. “All you have to do is paddle hard, then pick up your paddle and lean way back when I tell you, okay? We’re gonna catch the next wave in. And we’ll make it, promise.”
“Got it,” I say, with far more confidence than I feel. I’m in so deep now, it’s all I can do.
“Okay, here we go, right here,” he says as the next swell rises behind us. “Turn around. Paddle!”
I do, and I feel the immediate power of his strokes as they join mine. Our momentum builds, and then all of a sudden we take off as the wave catches the kayak. I feel a rush of fear as it lifts us and sends us flying—right at the hole in the rock.
“Lie back!” Colton yells.
I do, pulling my paddle to my chest and screaming at the same time. It doesn’t look like there’s any way we’ll make it through the opening, so I squeeze my eyes shut and brace myself against the sides of the kayak. Everything is loud and muffled all at once. The kayak smacks hard against the rock walls of the tunnel, knocking me around inside it. I grip my paddle like my life depends on it.
“It’s okay,” I hear Colton yell above the noise. “Stay down!”
At the moment, there’s absolutely zero chance that I would do anything else. Even with my eyes closed I can tell it’s dark. The air is heavy with moisture and salt, and it feels too thick to breathe. I squeeze my eyes shut even tighter, sure now that we’re going to die because I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, I can’t—
And then a miraculous thing happens. The tunnel spits us out like the end of a waterslide, and everything goes nearly still. I lie there a moment, afraid to open my eyes, listening. I can hear my own breaths, and Colton’s, and water lapping against rock, and something else . . . dripping?
“Ha! We made it.” Colton lets out an ecstatic laugh, and then the kayak rocks and I feel a hand on my shoulder. “Hey. You okay? You can open your eyes now.”
I crack one open and then the other, and the first thing I see is his face above mine. He looks down at me, and it’s impossible to catch my own breath with him so close. “We made it,” he says. “Look up!”
I gasp. Far, far above me I can see the sky through an opening like a skylight in the roof of the cavern. It’s a window that frames it perfectly, setting off the blue in contrast with the dark walls of rock. “Oh my god,” I whisper. “This is . . .” I don’t even know what to call it. It’s more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen.
I sit up slowly, like if I move too quickly it’ll disappear.
Sunlight streams in through the opening at an angle, setting the mist that hangs in the air aglow, illuminating each tiny water droplet. All around us, the water catches the sunlight and throws it against the walls of the cavern, waving and dancing. Another surge of water pushes through the opening we just came from, then disperses, rearranging the little reflections like the turn of a kaleidoscope.
I can feel Colton’s eyes on me, watching me take it in. He sweeps a hand through the air, setting off tiny eddies in the mist. “When I was a kid, I used to think this was all the negative ions floating around.”
“The what?” I ask, watching them swirl and dance.
“Negative ions.” He laughs. “Sorry, I forget that not everyone grew up with my family and their weird random facts.”