An Open Sky

Chapter Forty-One ~Alexa~

Rustling papers, slamming books and the familiar anxieties of a classroom faded as I drifted back into consciousness. My phone was emitting the ringtone that could only be associated with Jay. My heart jumped, but the glowing numbers on my alarm clock taunted me with the memory of sleep.

                “It’s not even four in the morning,” I grumbled into the speaker.

                “Yeah, I know. But you don’t want to miss the sunrise, do you?”

                “The what?”

                “You know the sun sets at night and then the world does that whole rotation thing until the sun reappears in the morning and it usually looks really pretty,” he paused, “like you.”

                “Aw, what a nice, cliché boyfriend comment,” I teased, my morning dysfunctional syndrome kicking in. Side effects: irritable tone of voice and sarcastic comments that could easily be taken as insults.

                “Ha ha I try. Anything for you darling,” he teased.

                “You are so lucky I’m not standing next to you right now,” I rolled my eyes.

                “Yeah, my arm is still recovering.” I heard rustling in the background. He must have been rubbing his arm.

                “Sorry,” I muttered.

                He laughed, “So are you getting up or what? I can pick you up.”

                “Yeah, give me ten minutes to try and do something with myself,” I said tossing the covers back, letting the cold air envelope my body.

                “Great, see you in ten.”

                The sand groaned underneath the canoe as we pushed off. The water lapped against the bow, moisture jumping over the edge to meet my cheek. It was cool, testing the durability of my burning skin. The canoe rocked as Jay got in. The sides were slick, almost slimy under my fingers.

                “Are you okay?” Jay asked from behind me.

                “Yeah,” I replied as he slid a paddle up toward me. I’d already been given the tutorial on how to properly insert it into the water. I glanced down at my hands as my arms pumped the canoe forward. There was nothing visible but the black outlines of my body and the tip of the paddle. The rest was obscured by the darkness that surrounded us. It was eerie, but it gave me a sense of peace, of belonging. It was the same sense that had been gnawing at me ever since we’d arrived.

                My eyes followed the jagged lines of the horizon, silhouetted by the splashes of color in the sky that were defying the boundaries of night.

                “It’s beautiful,” I breathed.

                “I know.” I turned to see his reaction to the scene in front of us. His eyes didn’t drift away at every sound like mine did. They didn’t look as breathless and amazed as I imagined mine did. They were glued to me. His expression wasn’t a clue to any kind of emotion. It was just Jay. And he was with me.

                We moved in silence, a calm silence only broken by the lapping of water at our sides as it retracted off of the paddle.

                The color continued to fill the sky like water consumes a piece of paper. It spilled over the trees and attacked the clouds, giving them the most beautiful red color I’d ever seen. I wondered why I’d never witnessed it before. Is it like this every morning?