“You amaze me. I just wanted you to know that. You’ll be a wonderful captain, and the students you work with will never forget how you changed their lives.”
It took him a moment to respond. “You really think so?” he finally said.
“There’s not a doubt in my mind.”
We didn’t say anything else for the rest of my shift at the helm. But we didn’t have to.
Chapter Twenty-Three
It was strange how when there was no wind, everything seemed to slow down, not just the ship. The air was heavier, and our classes dragged on endlessly. The captain and crew were continuing our celestial navigation lessons by teaching us how to calculate our position by “shooting the sun” using a sextant.
It was taking me forever to get the hang of the damn thing. It was a heavy instrument, and after holding it up while balancing on the moving deck of the ship, my arms turned rubbery. I peered through the lens, which was similar to that on a microscope, and adjusted my position until I found the horizon.
I released the lock on the sextant’s arm and slowly brought it down, moving the little mirror until the sun’s reflection was at the horizon. I locked the arm in that position and noted the measurement on the indicator, then the exact time on my watch.
Then I had to take all those numbers, plus my own height above the horizon, to a set of tables and almanacs, do a bunch of math, and theoretically calculate our latitude and longitude.
It gave us all a new appreciation for GPS, and a new hatred for math. Everyone seemed to struggle with it, except, oddly, Steve, who despite his constant wiseassery, had a real head for math—and the steadiest hands of all of us when it came to using the sextant.
We’d just finished our celestial navigation lesson for the day, and we were all bug-eyed and muzzy-headed from the calculations. There was not a breath of wind, and the sea was like a mirror. I returned to the deck from tossing my books onto my bunk, and helped myself to one of Peggy’s freshly-baked and gooey coconut caramel brownies (“guaranteed to help you recover from celestial navigation class”).
Everyone was slumped on lockers or on the deck itself, wilting in the hot, heavy air. If only everyone back home could see us now. A month into our voyage, and we’d all subscribed to the “wear it, sleep in it, wear it again” philosophy. Shoes had long since been cast aside. Our clothes were grungy, and so were we.
After all the grumbling at the beginning of the trip over the lack of showers, the most any of us bothered with now was a bucket or two of seawater and a quick scrub with Lemon Joy–even Jenny.
A month ago, I’d agonized over wearing shorts, but by now, everyone knew about my leg, and I no longer hid it. While still ugly, it was stronger, only aching occasionally. (Though at the moment both legs looked battered—shaving one’s legs with saltwater and Lemon Joy is neither a glamorous nor painless process.)
I looked around for Tristan. He was sprawled out on the salon roof in a pair of board shorts, sunglasses on, reading Dead Wake, Erik Larson’s fascinating and suspenseful account of the last voyage of the British ocean liner Lusitania. It was amazing how being at sea made you want to read about being at sea.
There was a sheen of sweat on his bare chest and arms, and the bandanna tied around his hair made him look—not unappealingly—like a cross between a rocker and a pirate.
It’s a lazy afternoon for everyone. I stretched my arms over my head and arched my back. Tristan sat up straight, and I froze mid-stretch, my arms dropping to my sides. I felt the heat of his gaze on me even from behind his sunglasses, and from halfway across the deck, and realized he hadn’t been reading at all. We stared at each other for a long moment. It would have been the perfect opportunity for Tristan and me to spend some time together, and I was tempted to casually stroll below deck and see if he’d follow me. But it was too risky.
“Swim call!”
I jolted in surprise and turned my attention to Captain MacDougall. Swim call, out here in the middle of nowhere? We’d been given permission to swim before, but that had always been in a harbor or cove, never the open sea.
He grinned, looking so much like Tristan that it was startling. “Och, are you waitin’ for the winds to pick up?” With that, he stripped off his shirt, hopped up onto the rail, and dove into the sea.
“Hell yeah!” shouted Steve, leaping up and heading for the rail. Kevin pulled Jenny to her feet, and holding hands, they jumped in after Steve. Within moments, everyone else had followed suit. Well, if ever I needed to cool off, it was now. I stowed my sunglasses in the nearby locker and stepped up onto the rail. I waited for the girls from B Watch who’d gone in ahead of me to swim out of the way, tightened the straps of my swimsuit top, and then dove into the turquoise water.
Oh, it felt so good! It was the perfect temperature, cool enough to feel refreshing, warm enough to…
Holy shit, I’d jumped in without even thinking about it!
After making sure my swimsuit top survived the dive, I spun in a circle in the clear water. Aside from the Meg, resting a few yards away, there was nothing around us, in any direction, but open ocean and blue sky. I was currently treading water in the middle of the sea, miles away from anything but the ship, the bottom somewhere far below. A month ago, I would never have believed it was possible.
A whoop rang out to my right, snapping me out of my thoughts.
Nick, the deckhand from C Watch, was climbing the mainmast shrouds. He got about twenty feet up, turned, and jumped, cannonballing into the water with a huge splash. Everyone cheered and applauded.
And then Tristan peeled off his bandanna and stepped up onto the rail, to another chorus of whistles and cheers. He ascended the shrouds, the muscles in his back shifting as he climbed. He reached the point from which Nick had jumped—and kept going. How far up was he going to go? The shrouds angled closer and closer to the mast the higher up he went, meaning he’d have to jump far out to clear the side of the ship.
A hush fell over everyone as we watched him climb. He was maybe forty feet up when he finally turned to face the water. I glanced over at the captain—and my mouth dropped open. He was grinning, the biggest smile I’d ever seen from him. Okay, clearly it wasn’t Tristan’s first time doing this. Nick, too, was grinning broadly, completely unbothered by Tristan upstaging him.
I returned my attention to Tristan. He balanced his weight on the soles of his feet on the narrow ropes. He let go, one hand at a time, and leaned forward. I held my breath, afraid to watch, but unable to turn away.
He bent his knees and launched himself into the air, his arms swinging up over his head. He hung suspended in the air for an endless moment, and then he arched into a dive—hands coming together, toes pointed, body straight as an Olympic high diver’s, and pierced the surface of the sea with barely a splash.
It was silent for one heartbeat, two, and then we all went nuts, applauding and cheering as he broke the surface, shaking his head like a dog, spray flying everywhere.
After that, everyone just kind of hung around in the water, swimming, treading water, free-diving. Tristan was over with Nick and Kristy from the crew, and I joined Kevin and Jenny.
“Yo, check it out,” said Kevin, gesturing with his chin to my right—where Steve had just splashed Amanda, who giggled and splashed him back.
“That’s new, right?” I hadn’t picked up on any flirting between Amanda and Steve, but I’d also been preoccupied with my own romantic drama.
“He’s been pining for her for a while now,” said Kevin. “I’m glad he’s finally making a move.”
Another couple that’s free to be together. I tried to suppress my envy, but it wasn’t easy.
“Dude. That was a hell of a dive,” said Kevin. I turned to see Tristan treading water a few feet away, and all thoughts of Steve and Amanda slipped right out of my mind.
He grinned. “Thanks, Kev. Years of practice. Hey, Red,” he drawled, his lips curving in that slow smile. He swam closer, his eyes steady on mine as beneath th
e surface of the water, his fingers trailed down my spine. Stifling a gasp, I arched my back, my body coming alive at his touch.
Kevin winked at me, a knowing look in his eyes. “Hey, Jenny—race you to the bow,” he said. “Ready, set, go!” He took off, leaving her sputtering in his wake.
“No fair!” Jenny set off after him, leaving Tristan and me alone in our little patch of ocean.
“I missed you,” I said as he took my hands. “I hate that we have to sneak around, with no privacy on the ship, stealing a touch here and there.”
He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Red. If you want to just forget this—”
“No!” I hissed, squeezing his hand. “Whatever we have, it’s better than nothing at all. And we’ll be in San Juan in a few days. Maybe there we can have some time together.”
“Aye, no ‘maybe’ about it. But I hate waitin’ that long to see you.”
“I know.”
“Okay, everyone, back on board!” shouted the captain from the deck. We returned to the ship. Tristan’s hand swept down my back in one last caress before he surged out of the water, grabbed the slight indentations in the hull, and began to pull himself up. I watched the water pour off his body and wished it was my hands caressing his shoulders and sides. I watched the play of muscles in his back and arms as he climbed and wished my fingers were tracing those muscles as he held me close.
I looked up at the sails, slack in the still air, and said a quick prayer to the wind gods to kick it up a notch.
…
I stood on the silent beach at dawn, the white sand soft and cool beneath my bare feet, the sea gently lapping against the shore. The sky was lavender, the first rays of the sun lighting the eastern sky as the gulls dove beneath the waves.
I turned to look at him just as the sun burst over the horizon, casting a golden halo around his wind-tossed hair. His face was peaceful, the shadows gone from beneath his eyes. I closed my eyes as his lips touched mine.
“Ari,” he murmured, then kissed me again, more urgently this time.
“Ari…”
I opened my eyes, then blinked and opened them again. It took a moment for my sleep-hazy eyes to register that the curtain was open and there was someone looming before me in the dark. I inhaled sharply, opened my mouth—and felt fingers press against my lips.
“Red, it’s me,” the voice whispered. I blinked again, just barely able to see Tristan’s outline in the dim red light from the companionway.
What was he doing there? “What time is it?” I breathed.
“Dark o’clock. Come with me?”
“Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine.” I swung my legs out of my bunk and followed him up the ladder, the two of us moving silently along the starboard side of the deck. The wind was coming from port, so anyone on watch would walk to and from the bow along that side, which was higher up and out of the way of the sails.
We stopped just before the foremast, and he pulled me into the narrow space between the deck locker and the rail around the mast, the darkness and the foresail hiding us from anyone on the port side.
I opened my mouth to ask him what was going on, but before I could speak, his lips unerringly found mine in the dark.
Oh.
His arms came around me, holding me tightly against him. My hands splayed against his chest, then crept up around his neck. His mouth left mine to trail down my throat. I tipped my head to the side to allow him better access, tangling my fingers in his hair. But I missed the feel of his lips on mine, so after only a few moments I pulled back and brought my mouth to his once more. A lifetime later, he drew back, holding me close as our breathing returned to normal. He pulled me down to sit on the locker, tucking me against his side.
“I’m sorry if I scared you when I woke you, a leannan,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against my ear that sent a pleasant shiver through my body. “I just—”
“Wait. What does that mean?”
“A leannan? It means ‘sweetheart.’”
“Oh. That’s acceptable, then. Carry on.”
I felt him smile. “I just missed you, and thought we might have a wee moment in the dark.”
“Well, you did interrupt quite a lovely dream.”
“Oh, aye?” he drawled. “And what were you dreamin’ of?”
“I was walking on the beach at sunrise with some guy. It was very romantic.”
“Some guy, eh? Did he kiss you?”
“He did, actually. It was thrilling.” I smiled, enjoying our flirty banter.
“How thrilling?”
I turned his face to mine and showed him.
Chapter Twenty-Four
It turned out that Tristan had the right idea when he woke me in the middle of the night for some alone time, because it was proving to be harder than either of us anticipated to spend any time together. Since we had so little wind to fly us over the sea, the captain and Sully decided that we would take advantage of the easy sailing to hold midterm exams.
We studied in groups for the most part. Steve even held a celestial navigation tutorial because he understood it so well, which was surreal. But all the “together-time” started to get to me, so I took a break from studying to write in my journal. The study groups were on the salon roof, where there was the most space for people to gather, so I sat in a shady patch of deck along the port rail with my notebook and a big mug of lemonade.
I can’t believe we’re a month into the voyage—nearly halfway. Things are going really well—my leg hardly ever hurts, and I’ve been swimming and diving without freaking out. It’ll still be a long while before I’m back to my pre-shark comfort in the water, but I’m getting there.
We have midterm exams coming up, and after that, we’ll be taking a larger role in sailing the ship, including plotting our course, assigning duties to the other members of the watch group, and ordering any sail handling—with Davey and Tristan’s guidance. I’m looking forward to it, though I’m a little nervous, too.
A strand of hair tickled my arm and I swiped it out of the way.
A couple of weeks ago, I mentioned how I had a thing for Tristan. Well, now we’re together. I probably shouldn’t even be writing this on paper, but Sully promised he wouldn’t collect these journals, so I’m going for it. We’re keeping it secret—which as you might imagine, isn’t easy on a relatively small ship with virtually no personal space. *Sigh* But being forced to steal brief moments here and there only makes those moments that much more exciting.
I reached over with my left hand to brush the stray hair off my arm again—and touched a hand. Startled, I turned to see Tristan squatting beside me, a devilish grin on his face, holding the end of my braid like a paintbrush over my arm.
“I was about to scrawl my name on your arm. How did you not notice that I was here?”
I sat upright and looked around. No one was paying attention. “Sorry. I was just engrossed in my journal.”
“I can see that,” he said. “So…you have a thing for me? What kind of thing?”
“What? Stop reading my journal!” I hissed, slapping my hand over it. “You’re such a—” I halted mid-sentence as his fingers trailed over my ribs to my belly button.
“Such a what?” he whispered. He leaned in close, his breath tickling my neck. I sucked in a breath, my body burning from the touch of his fingers on my bare skin.
“Tristan, we’re not alone out here.”
“I know, Red,” he murmured against my hair. “If we were alone…” Just then, Davey shouted his name. “I’ll see you later,” he said, rising to his feet. “Maybe we’ll come up with something juicy you can add to your journal.”
I got up, stashed my notebook in the nearest locker, and grabbed a bucket. I needed to cool off.
…
Steering had become second nature to me, and my shift at the helm each night was always my favorite part of watch. It was just me and the smooth spokes of the wheel beneath my hands, guiding the silen
t ship across the lonely sea.
When the sky was clear, I would gaze up at the glittering stars above and choose the one that would keep me on course. On the rare nights when it was overcast, the compass was my only guide.
And even though Tristan was usually nearby, leaning against that stanchion at the stern, and we would chat while I steered, there were times when we barely spoke at all. During the day, there was so much activity on the ship, whether it was classes, or meals, or the daily chores we all took part in to keep the ship clean and running smoothly. And there was no privacy to be found, even for one’s own thoughts.
But at night, when mostly everyone was asleep, silence descended upon the ship, broken only by the creak of the rigging, the whisper of the sails, the slap of the sea against the hull, and the occasional murmur of the people on watch. When I was at the wheel, I could be alone with my thoughts. And Tristan could be alone with his. So even though he stood not three feet away, sometimes we didn’t speak, instead sharing the solitude we both craved.
Then, when I was on standby, I would go stand at the rail at midships, far enough away from both the quarterdeck and the bow watch. Tristan would usually find some excuse to wander by, and we’d talk quietly in the dark, our fingers entwined, learning little details about each other. Sometimes he talked about his mother, or I would share a funny story about Josh. For those few minutes, it was just the two of us. But while I loved those quiet moments, it made me yearn for more, for us to be free to have those moments whenever and wherever we wanted.
That night, the seas remained calm and quiet, and watch was uneventful. Kevin relieved me at the helm and I made my way over to the rail. Steve was on bow watch, and Amanda and Jenny were sitting on the salon roof near the helm.
I stared out at the sea. There was a greenish streak in the black water below. And another. It wasn’t the usual bioluminescent plankton we often saw at night. Whatever was down there was much bigger.
Where was Tristan? I heard male laughter and peered at the quarterdeck. Yup, there he was, in his usual spot, joking around with Kevin. I walked back there. “Sorry to interrupt, but there’s something in the water off the port beam. Tristan, can you come take a look?”
A Star to Steer Her By Page 19