A tall wave rises up in front of him, and I get nervous, like I would if it were me out there, but Colton digs his arms in and paddles hard, then pushes the nose of the board down just as the wave pitches forward and begins to break. For the briefest moment I can see his silhouette in the face of it, the light shining through the water, and it’s so beautiful it makes me want to cry at the impossibility of this situation I’ve created.
A cool breeze swirls up from the water, carrying on it a chill, and the slightest hint of rain. It rolls over my bare skin, and I pull the sweatshirt around me as he finishes out the wave and turns to paddle for another one. There’s a flash out on the horizon, so quick I wonder if I saw it at all, but a few moments later I hear the low, telling rumble of thunder. The clouds have moved in closer already, trailing faint gray streaks down to the water, starting to crowd the sun that was so bright only moments before.
Colton catches the next wave just as another flash of lightning zags the sky. This time only a few beats pass before the rumble of thunder follows again. I can see whitecaps begin to form out on the water as the wind picks up. I expect Colton to paddle in, but he turns his board around and heads back out toward the building surf. A fat drop of rain lands on my cheek, and I wipe it away. I look out at the water, at Colton paddling his board against the backdrop of the stormy sky, and I wish he’d come in. Lightning flashes again, and he sits up and turns toward the shore. He waves from the water, nods like he’s okay, and then raises a single finger, like “one more.”
I wave back, and raindrops begin to fall, one after another, dotting the staircase all around me and adding a new layer to the air. Another flash of lightning zips across the sky, then a crack of thunder opens it up. I yank the hood over my head and squint through the downpour as Colton goes for a wave and catches it. As soon as he finishes out the ride, he paddles the rest of the way in; and when he gets to the beach, he stands up and waves again, then tucks his board under his arm.
Colton hits the beach running as the thunder booms above us. He yells something to me, but his words are lost in the wind. The rain pours down in a steady sheet, creating little pinpricks of cold all over my face and bare legs, soaking through the sweatshirt fast.
When Colton reaches me, he lets out a whoop, and I can’t help but laugh at how I must look standing there, the rain plastering my hair to my cheeks. “C’mon,” he yells above the storm and the surf. He grabs my hand and pulls me toward the stairs, motioning for me to go first, in front of him. I take the stairs two at a time, driven hard by the rain, and the cold, and the fact that he’s right behind me. Another flash of lightning makes me scream, and I feel the boom of the accompanying thunder clap in my chest. Colton laughs out loud from behind me. “Go, go, go!”
By the time we get to the top of the stairs, the dirt trail has become a small, rushing river, and my flip-flops slip with every step I take. Colton’s bus sits beside the fence, a bright-turquoise splash in the gray blur of rain. I climb up over the little ladder with Colton right behind me. The rain pounds loud on the roof of the bus and almost drowns out the sound of the door when I slide it open. We tumble in, Colton right after me, and he slams the door closed behind us, all in one motion.
For a second it seems like the volume has been turned down, but then the sky unleashes another torrent of rain, this one even louder than the last. I lean against the seat to catch my breath, and Colton scoots himself back next to me to catch his. We’re quiet a moment before we both burst out laughing. Colton shakes the water out of his hair, and I wring it from mine and pinch his soaked sweatshirt away from my chest.
“That was crazy,” he says, still out of breath. “That came out of nowhere.”
“No, it didn’t. I could see it coming, all the way in. I’ve never seen anything like it. I thought you were gonna get hit by lightning out there.”
“I kinda did too,” he admits. “Nothing like a little brush with death to remind you you’re alive.” He smiles, then reaches behind him and grabs two towels. Hands me one.
He runs his over his hair first, and I do the same before I peel off the wet sweatshirt and drape it over the back of the driver’s seat. Another flash-boom erupts outside, and the rain pounds harder in answer. I wrap the towel around my shoulders and pull it tight; then we sit there on the bed, our backs leaned against the wall, catching our breaths and watching the rain streak down the windows.
“Looks like we may be camping out here after all, the way it’s coming down out there,” Colton says, glancing over at me with a smile. “We didn’t even make it to the waterfall.”
“No shooting stars or s’mores either.”
“I know,” Colton says, shaking his head. “All I’ve got is”—he leans over me and rummages around in the center console—“half a bottle of water, four pieces of gum, and two Rolos. I don’t know how we’re gonna survive.” He does his best to put on a serious expression, but the corner of his mouth twitches up. He shivers.
“We should get these wet clothes off,” I say, conscious now of the cold.
A smile breaks over Colton’s face. He raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
I laugh. “That came out wrong. Sort of. I meant—”
Colton just keeps smiling as heat floods my cheeks and I try again. “I meant because of the cold, because we’re wet, and you can get . . .”
He laughs softly and reaches out, tucks a damp strand of hair behind my ear. And in that tiny moment when his fingers brush my skin, there is an unmistakable shift in the air between us. The rain falls in a steady hush, a soft-gray curtain that blurs everything beyond the space where we sit, and I lean into him.