The wind remembers not just the routes the boats take now, but
the ones they used to. This was before the years got in
the way, before the quiet turned sharp, when the tide still
carried their laughter out past the headland and brought it back
again at dusk. 18 The last year they sailed without knowing it
was the last. The formal was still weeks away,
some date written on the school calendar in ink far enough to
feel unreal. But the talk of it had started
before the suits and the music and the photographs.
They were here on the water, where the only thing that
mattered was the wind, the sun. This is salt in our veins.
Chapter 4 The night We left early.
The day had started with the sky so clear.
The breeze was steady enough to keep the main sail full without
the hard work. Kai was at the tiller, bare feet
hooked against the bench, hands loose but certain on the lines.
The salt had already dried into his curls, stiffening them into
shapes the wind kept trying to undo.
His skin was warm, was the kind of sun that stayed on you long
after you'd gone back to shore. Noah had stretched out on the
cabin roof, one knee bent, the other leg hanging over the side
so his shoes skimmed the water when the boat leaned and his
chest was rising, slow and even, like he could have stayed there
forever. They talked a little earlier
about nothing that mattered, a kid from school who crashed his
motorbike into a fence, the swell forecast for next week,
and then they let the quiet take over.
Out here, silence didn't need filling.
The first splash hit Kai's calf. He looked over in time to see
Noah smirk and the arc of water falling back into the sea.
You're going to regret that. Kai warned.
Doubted. Noah answered.
Kai let the mainsail run slack, locked the tiller and moved
fast. In two strides he was across the
deck, and then they were both over the side, the water closing
over them in a rush of cold. It started with laughing, loud,
messy, catching in their throats when the salt got in the way.
Noah tried to shove him under Kai, hooked an arm around his
neck and pulled him sideways, both of them breaking the
surface, whose hair plastered to their face.
They grappled, splashing hard enough to rock the boat, their
hands finding ribs, shoulders, anything they could grip.
The laughter didn't stop, but it changed, got shorter breath,
ear. Each time they came up, the
space between them felt smaller. I went for Noah's shoulder
again. Noah twisted their chest,
colliding for a beat longer than needed before they sank under
together. When they came up this time,
their faces were close, too close, Stillwater running from
Noah's hair into Kai's eyes. Neither moved right away.
Noah was the one to push away first, half laughing, half
breathless. You fight dirty, you started it.
Kai said, but his voice had lost the edge of play.
They hauled themselves back on deck, dripping and flushed.
The sun pressed heat into their backs and hot under their skin.
Neither reached for a towel. They lay there, side by side,
letting the water dry where it wanted.
I turned his head. You're going to ask Hana to the
formal? Noah's eyes stayed on the sky.
Yeah, maybe. He glanced over.
What about you? Maddie seems to be expecting it.
Kai gave 1/2 shrug. Maybe 4 on 4 date.
We should plan it. Noah grinned.
Yeah, Mehdi and Hannah and you and me.
The last three words came lighter, but they didn't quite
lend like a joke. I met his eyes for a second
longer than was normal. You could.
Ask me. The air between them changed
again, Not the wind. Something closer, heavier.
Kentucky felt the heat on his face before he realized he was
blushing. He looked away.
Noah shifted, the deck creaking under his weight.
He rolled onto his side, closing the space between them until
Kentucky could feel the warmths of him, the faint drip of water
falling from his hair onto Kai's shoulder.
A hand closed gently around Kai's arm, not pulling, just
holding. Kai glanced back.
Noah's eyes were steady, searching, and for a moment
neither of them moved. The boat rocked beneath them,
the tide knocking softly at the hull.
Then Noah leaned in. The kiss was unpracticed and
salt sweet. Their mouse is meeting just long
enough to be sure if it was real.
When they parted, the sun was still warm on Kite's skin, but
the air felt entirely different. Would you go to the formal with
me? Noah's voice was quieter than
the tide, the words almost carried off by the breeze.
Kite didn't answer right away. He let the taste of salt linger,
the boat drifting forward on the same wind that had brought them
here, even if neither of them knew where it would take them
next. By Monday the water had already
changed, not the tide. In Eden, Noose moved like that,
small at first, then rippled just off the shore, then wider,
catching on pilings and passing boats until everyone had heard
it without anyone admitting they said it.
Kai saw it in the way people looked at Noah that morning.
By lunch, he knew why. Hannah was standing by the
lockers, one hand covering her face, the other clenched around
the balled up tissue. Her friend circled close,
murmuring low. Noah didn't break stride.
His expression didn't change. But Kai, watching from the other
end of the hall, caught the way his jaw tightened before he
turned a corner. Later, outside by the canteen,
Maddie found him. She didn't start with hello.
So are you asking me or not? Kai shifted his weight.
The sun pressed heat into his back.
She crossed her arms, feet planted like she had all the
time in the world. Don't keep me waiting.
I'm not. You are.
She cut in. And I'm not moving until you
give me an answer. There was no teasing in her
voice, just a stubborn certainty of someone used to getting what
she wanted. Kai let the silence stretch, but
she didn't budget. Eventually, he let out a breath.
Would you go out with me? Her expression softened.
Not much, but enough thought so. She stepped back, already
turning away. Don't make me regret it.
Kai found Noah after last bell. I asked Maddie.
Kai said. I'm going with her.
Noah's mouse curved. Half smirk, half challenge,
aren't we? Kai met his eyes.
We are. That was enough to bring the
grin out fully, then lowering his voice.
So after the formal's over, we fake food poisoning?
Kai blinked. Food poisoning?
Yeah. Clutch your stomach.
Look, green, I'll back you up, then I'll get sick too.
Kai snorted. That's your genius plan?
Better than staying for the last slow dance.
Noah said. So you tell your mom you're
staying at mine? I'll tell mine I'm staying at
yours after the formal. Easy.
Noah said, already picturing it. And we stashed the bikes at the
docks earlier in the day. Kai added.
Soon as we're sick, he made air coats.
We head straight there, grab our gear and head to the clips.
Kai laughed again, shaking his. Head, we should.
Probably rehearse the throwing up part.
Noah smirked. You can do that at home, then.
After a beat, he leaned just a little closer, voice lower.
No solo time for a week. Kai raised a brow.
You and me at the Cliff, right? Noah's eyes caught the light,
and the grin soften into something else.
Yeah, you and me. Then, without another word, he
pushed off the railing and started toward the quad where
Hannah was standing with her friends.
Kai watched him weave through the knots of students stopping
just short of her group. Noah dropped to 1 knee, dramatic
enough to turn heads, and said something Kai couldn't hear.
Hannah's hand flew to her mouth. Noah glanced back across the
yard. The wink was quick, but his hand
lingered low as he stood, fingers brushing across the
front of his jeans in a casual adjustment that wasn't casual at
all. His mouth curved just enough for
Kai to know it was meant for him before he turned back to Hanna,
leaving the heat of it hanging between them like a secret only
they knew. The hall at the Community Center
felt too bright, too crowded. Maddie had a firm hold on his
arm as they moved through the clusters of laughing voices and
clicking cameras. She kept him in place for
photos, made sure his tie set straight, leaned close when she
wanted to be heard. Across the room, Hannah was
smiling at something Noah had said.
The glance Noah gave him over her shoulder was brief, but
enough to send a quiet charge. During the second slow song,
Maddie's heel caught the side of his shoe.
Where are you looking? She muttered.
Kai blinked. What at me?
She pulled him closer, one hand tightening at the back of his
neck. The song ended, another slow one
started. Noah was already near the
refreshment table when Kai drifted over, pretending to be
looking for water. Their eyes met just long enough
to exchange the unspoken It was time.
Kai hesitated. The plan sounded easy when they
whispered it on the reeling days ago.
But now, under the warm glare of the overhead lights with 100
faces around them, he couldn't quite bring himself to double
over and fake it. Noah read it instantly.
His hand went to his stomach, a small sway, then a low,
convincing groan. You OK?
Someone asked. Bad prawns?
Noah mumbled, wincing. He bent forward just enough to
sell it, one hand braced on the table.
Han, a step back. I'll take the sick boy home.
Kai said, sliding an arm around Noah's waist.
They moved toward the exit. Noah straightened as they
reached the street, the corner of his mouth twitching like he
couldn't help it. Kai didn't laugh, not yet.
The real night, the one they'd been planning, hadn't started,
but it was close enough to taste.
Noah was already unlocking his bike, the metal chain rattling
against the frame. The bikes clinged as they
wheeled them out toward the road.
The road out of Eden narrowed until it was only two bikes and
a thread of moonlight. The hum of their tires was the
only sound between them. A couple of cars passed, slowing
just enough for the drivers to stare. 2 boys in full formal
wear, jackets flapping, bow tie slightly crooked, pedaling hard
like they had somewhere better to be.
I dropped his bike against the grass and walked to the edge.
The sea stretched out like it had been waiting for them.
Noah stopped a few steps from the edge of the clearing. close
your eyes. I gave him a look.
What? close them.
Noah insisted. And don't open till I say.
I rolled his eyes but obeyed, the night air cool against his
skin. He heard the sip of the small
bag, the shuffle of shoes over the grass after a few minutes.
OK, open. I opened his eyes to see the
clearing transformed, soft golden light spilling over the
grass. A small speaker perched besides
Noah's back. Noah pulled out his phone.
Stand here, I want one picture before we.
Ruin our. Ties, Kai grind.
I only brought the condoms I found in my brother's drawer.
Noah's eyebrow went up the quarter of his mouth.
Twitching OK before. That one last thing to do.
He tapped his phone a few times and music spilled into the
night. Then he kneeled.
Would you dance with me? Kite didn't answer with words.
He just stepped forward. The first few moments were slow,
tentative, shoes shifting in the grass.
Then Noah's hand found the small of Kite's back, and Kite's palm
pressed over his shoulder, pulling them closer.
He built between them the kind that made bow tie suddenly feel
too tight, jackets too heavy. They moved in tighter circles,
the space between them barely a breath wide.
A passing car on the distant Rd. slowed for a second, maybe
staring at two boys in formula wear holding each other under
the stars. Kai didn't care.
The music swelled, and Noah's thumbs trace the edge of Kai's
spine. Kai's heart kicked hard in the
chest. Their lips met slow, drawn out,
and then again deeper. Jacket slipped from shoulders.
Fingers brushed that buttons the night pressed in close, holding
them there until the stars were the only ones watching.
By the next morning, the story had already changed.
That was how it worked in Eden. Something small, spotted and
retold until no one remembers where it began.
Someone had seen them at dawn. By lunch, it had turned into
Noah got sick. Kai took him home.
They didn't come back until morning.
Kai brushed it off when he heard, but Noah seemed to hear
it differently. His eyes caught on the way.
A few kids looked up when they passed in the hall.
Too quick to be casual, too quiet to be nothing.
After lunch, they slipped behind the gym.
The shade felt cooler there, but the air between them was not.
Noah's gaze fixed somewhere far past the chain.
I kept close, but didn't push. They sat on the low steps,
shoulders nearly touching, watching girls wheel over the
field. Somewhere in that stillness, Kai
decided on summer. A long ride, a tent pitched
where the waves could be heard all night before anything else
could get in the way. You want to go camping this
summer? Kai asked, finally, trying for
casual before you had to uni. Noah shook his head.
Family trip a few weeks. He glanced sideways, a half
smile pulling at his mouth. But maybe we could take the boat
out, go sailing instead. Kai looked at him for a long
moment, the weed between them still there, but softer now.
Yeah, He said. Sailing sounds good.
Kai waited for Noah that summer, for the call, the text, the day
they'd take the boat out, like they said.
But each time the plan slid back a little farther.
Weather, family, something else. The waiting became its own ache,
stretching out the weeks until it felt like the season might
end without them setting sail at all.
Then, just a few days before Kai was due to leave for Sydney, it
finally happened. The tide was right, the sky was
clear, and for once, they both had the same day free.
That last sail was quiet, almost too much, the kind of quiet that
pressed in around the sound of the wind.
Neither of them said it then, but they both knew.
This was the day the 10 years apart.
Began the memory loosened its grip only when the.
Porch light of his parents house.
Came in two of you. They found themselves standing
outside in almost the same. Air.
But heavier now I still have that little.
Bow room light. You're kidding.
Kai shook his head. Hard to forget the way it after.
For a moment, the wait. Between them wasn't about the 10
years or the. Things they left.
Unsaid, just the. Memory of that.
Night. When they've been.
Young enough to think. The world could wait the.
Corner of. Noah's mouse moved again.
Softer. This time I didn't.
Mean for it to. Be like that.
I know, Kai said quietly. They stood.
There, letting the space between them hold what they weren't
saying, the ache of that summer. The way the.
Rumors had followed. Them the shame neither had
wanted to admit. Kai's case.
Drifted toward. The dark St.
We were just. Kids, yeah, Noah said.
And. Now we're not.
Noah's case flicked toward his car, then back to Kai.
He stepped closer and pressed his lips to Kai's just enough to
remind them both it hadn't gone away.
The formal. Night the clips.
The ballroom light. And the photo they took.
Before the music started still. Saved after old easy years. 10
years. Ago, they thought they had time.
Now with the street lights cutting soft Hallows.
In the dark. They knew.
Better and for a moment. The years folded in until it was
just two boys at the end of. A night they.
Didn't want to end this was. Salt in our veins.
Chapter 4. The night.
We left early. The world is small tonight.