In Riptides

02 | silver lining

N A T E

All right, Miller. You can't wait forever.

As I carefully lift Lia's arm draped over my chest, déjà vu strikes me from the night we fell asleep in the pool house. Except this time she isn't passed out wasted, and she instantly grumbles at the movement, squeezing me tighter.

"I need the bathroom," I tell her.

"Hold it," she mumbles.

"I have been," I say, separating from her warmth. "Turns out twenty minutes is my limit."

She lets out a sleepy groan, sinking deeper into the hoodie I gave her when she got cold in the night. With just a hint of morning light brushing her face, it finds its way through the strands of dark hair splayed across the pillow, casting a soft halo that couldn't be more fitting for those angelic features. I feel myself falling into distraction while she drifts to sleep again.

I guess I can add another two minutes to my limit in the name of Lia-distraction. There's no better kind.

Yesterday, I thought I'd be going to bed in a world of regret, waking up in a world of blue. I thought it would be weeks until the clarity came to her about Matt. About me. How could I think someone as self-admittedly predictable as Lia DeMarco would break her mold? That's on me, because really, Lia DeMarco isn't so predictable anymore. At least, not as much as she used to be.

She's been proving that since the day she asked me to teach her how to surf. But Matt Benson has always been another story. The stars he put in her eyes eclipsed the fearlessness she's gained in salty waves. Because if there's anyone or anything with enough power to influence her decisions, it's him.

But here she is, in my bed, in my life. Those stars have finally burned out, her oceans reclaiming their place and shining brighter than the stars ever could.

An eyelid flutters open as if those oceans can hear my thoughts, giving me a reminder of that all-consuming blue. "I thought you were going to the bathroom," she muffles into the pillow.

"I am, I'm just... making sure this image sticks."

A little smile graces her as I back away, stealing another glance before I climb the stairs. When I leave the bathroom, I take a detour into the kitchen to make coffee, pausing when I find my sister buttering a piece of toast at the table.

Lizzy's head snaps up before I can backtrack. "You're up early," she remarks, eyeing me. "Thought you'd be sleeping away the rest of winter break with that thing."

I don't know what she's talking about until she nods at my arm cast. I keep forgetting I have it, and whenever I remember all I want to do is rip it off so I can surf again. That's what I'd usually be doing on this break. Jumping out of bed, meeting Blake, Ollie, and Alex at the beach, surfing until the sun burns off the morning mist, and then grabbing a greasy fry-up breakfast at Shelly's. They're probably all walking down the shoreline at this very moment.

"Right, yeah, guess my internal clock hasn't caught up yet." I shrug, going ahead with the coffee.

I make a point to subtly shield my movements, but Lizzy's onto me as soon as I reach for a second mug. Her chair scrapes before she joins me by the counter. "Is someone here?"

"I'm beat. Solution: two cups of coffee."

"You don't take milk." I freeze with the carton in my hand, catching her eyeroll in my periphery. "Is it Alex? I swear to god, Nate."

"Alex is lactose intolerant," I mutter.

An almost-manic smile flashes over her as she zips around me and makes a beeline for the basement door, slipping away when I grasp her.