Changes in Latitudes Read online

  Capitola’s action is centered around a beachfront bar and some touristy shops. Aside from the dusky outlines of a few stray walkers, when we land we have most of the stretch of sand to ourselves. The upper beach is lit by spillover from the stores and restaurants, but the night is cloudy and moonless, so the packed sand down by the water is heavily shadowed, which should make using the lighted Frisbee more fun.

  Jonah hops out first and offers his hand again, this time to help me from the dinghy. I shake my head and jam my fingers into the pockets of my rolled-up khakis. “Are you kidding?” I jerk my chin at Abigail and Grace, scrambling over the sides like little monkeys. “They see me take that now and they’ll put triplets in our baby carriage.”

  Flirty Jonah appears as he grins wickedly and places his palms on either side of my waist, lifting me easily out of the boat. He sets me down at the water’s edge with a cute little smirk. “Triplets could be fun.”

  Before I can form a smart-ass answer, he turns to the others. “Okay, girls, who’s the best Frisbee catcher on this beach?” he asks, ducking down to scoop Grace up and tossing her over his shoulder as she squeals happily.

  We start with a fairly civilized game of Frisbee, gently floating the lighted disk to one another to accommodate the younger participants, but things devolve pretty quickly once Grace and Abigail lose interest and begin collecting seaweed to weave bracelets with. (I’m skeptical, but apparently they saw some YouTube DIY video and are determined.) Once it’s just Drew, Jonah, and me, we switch to Keep Away, with Jonah in the center.

  “Drew, go high!” I scream, but as I stretch my hand up to snag the disk, Jonah’s chest is in my face.

  His arms wave all around mine to block me and he easily snatches the Frisbee away, grinning evilly. “Your turn in the center.”

  I give him my most threatening look and step into place. As soon as Jonah releases the Frisbee, I lunge for Drew. He ducks me and catches the disk, winging it to Jonah before I can even pivot. The sand is unforgiving on my calves as I attempt to race back and forth between them, ignoring their taunts.

  On a high floater from Drew, the Frisbee hangs in the air for an entire lifetime and I line up right in front of Jonah, jumping as high as I can to block him. Unfortunately for both of us, I land off-balance and tumble against him, knocking us to the ground. We’re a tangled mess of legs and arms sprawled on the sand.

  “Are you okay?” Drew calls in the distance, but we’re both laughing too hard to answer. After a few seconds, my giggling slows and I pick my head up. I startle at how close Jonah’s face is to mine; he must realize the same because his eyes widen and his laugh catches in his throat.

  It feels like it happens in slow motion when his gaze drifts down to my lips. I suck in a breath and freeze. Is he possibly on the same wavelength here?

  His eyes flick back to mine and crinkle in confusion.

  “Seriously, guys—are you okay?” Drew yells again from across the stretch of sand.

  Another long heartbeat passes where we’re like deer in headlights, and then Jonah takes a deep breath and answers, “Yup!”

  He keeps his eyes locked on mine as he pushes up and onto his feet. He pulls me to standing and moves behind me to brush sand off my back. I’m still having a hard time restarting my heart, especially because it feels like his hand lingers a beat or two longer than necessary on the bare shoulder I exposed when my T-shirt was tugged aside by the fall. Jonah takes the fabric between two fingers and settles the collar gently up into place and, I swear, I have to fight off a whimper.

  I swallow thickly and avoid his gaze as he hands me the Frisbee.

  “I’ll take a turn being ‘it,’” he says, clearing his throat.

  It doesn’t take long for me to land in the center again, and Drew and Jonah find way too much pleasure in making it impossible for me to grab the Frisbee by keeping all the action well above my head. Stupid tall boys and their stupid height. I’m huffing and puffing when Jonah finally steps right beside me.

  “This what you want, Sprite?” he teases softly, advancing another deliberate step with the Frisbee dangling loosely off his pinkie at hip level. “Come and get it.”

  I look at the sky and feign curiosity at something I see there. Jonah lifts his head to peer up and I take advantage of his being distracted to snatch the Frisbee. I spin, but he realizes what I’ve done and grabs me around the waist from behind. He pulls me against him as I squirm and fight to keep the Frisbee in my grip. He bends back slightly, lifting me off the ground, with my legs kicking out in front of me.

  Jonah’s laugh tickles low and warm in my ear and my body reacts. I instantly forget about the Frisbee, all my focus on the fact that I’m wrapped tightly in his arms. Again.

  He must sense the shift in my attention, because he stills too. He easily snatches the Frisbee from my fingers and sends it flying hard and far. It sails well beyond Drew’s reach, past where Abigail and Grace have their heads bent to the sand, engrossed in their seaweed search. My brother trots off after it and the darkness swallows him.

  Jonah takes his time sliding me back to the ground, and his arms stay loosely around my waist even after my feet are planted in the sand. I turn halfway against his chest and sneak a peek up at him. His eyes find mine, soft and searching, and my heart slams into my rib cage.

  The breeze pulls pieces of my hair out of my ponytail and against my face, and Jonah moves his hand from my waist to my cheek, where he separates the strands and tucks them behind my ear. He doesn’t break eye contact.

  “Hey,” he says in a husky voice, and now my heart stutters. How am I getting so lucky that he seems to feel this chemistry too? Not a lot’s been going my way this year and I’m not sure I can let myself have faith it will again, but the way he’s looking at me . . .

  “Hey,” I answer. My voice trips over the simple syllable and his eyes widen.

  The Frisbee comes flying at us. Jonah gives an irritated huff and plucks it from the sky. He barely has time to spin it in his fingers before he hauls off and sends it far and wide again, this time to the opposite corner of the beach.

  I hear the distant sounds of Drew’s protests, but they barely register because I’m too focused on Jonah. He studies the sand, saying softly, “Remember this morning when you said I should try being completely exposed and vulnerable sometime?”

  He’s looking down, not at me, but I nod anyway, because I don’t trust my voice.

  He drags his eyes back to mine. “This is me, exposed.” He takes a deep breath, then says, “I like you. A lot. You’re so . . . real, and I feel like I can be that way with you too. But at the same time, we’re barely ever not laughing. And you call me on my crap like nobody’s business, which I love.” He stops and breathes again and continues before I can react. “I’m getting all these mixed signals from you, and I honestly have no idea how you feel . . . although I guess if I did, that would negate the whole exposed/vulnerable thing . . . so, um, I’m just gonna say this. I don’t want to be your friend, Cass. Or . . . at least . . . I don’t want to be just your friend.”

  Holy. Crap. I want to play every bit of what he just said on a loop in my brain, over and over, until the words all sink in and I can let myself believe this is happening.

  Jonah glances up, then smoothly sidesteps and snatches the lighted Frisbee out of the sky. I hadn’t even noticed it coming. He whips it back, and turns to focus on me again.

  “Look, I know you’re going through all this stuff, and I don’t want to be the guy who takes advantage of someone whose head might be in a weird place right now, so if you—”

  “Jonah.” My heart is in my throat.

  He stops speaking but continues to stares at me. “What?”

  “You’re still doing it.”

  His forehead furrows. “Doing what?”

  I cross my hand to my opposite shoulder and squeeze, trying to hold in my thumping heart. “You’re all exposed and vulnerable and yet you’re still saying and doing the exact per
fect things. How is that possible?”

  He looks adorably bewildered. “It’s . . . a curse?” He blinks at me. “And that wasn’t really a response from you, though. I have more to say, if it would help plead my case, because—”

  “Could we just skip ahead to the part where you kiss me?” I ask, biting my lip and giving him a shy smile.

  He exhales the deepest breath ever and his gaze darts to my mouth. “God yes. I thought you’d never cut me off, Sprite. Who knows how much more embarrassing I would have gotten if you’d let me ramble on.”

  I could seriously take flight right now, there are so many winged creatures flapping around my insides, and at the same time I’m so giddy I might just start laughing hysterically, which will probably not lend itself to a stellar first kiss.

  He takes a step toward me at exactly the moment when a trail of light whizzes by my peripheral vision. The hard plastic Frisbee slams into the side of Jonah’s head and he jumps back, his eyes wide with pain.

  “Heads up!” yells Drew.

  “Oh god, are you okay?” I ask, and he nods, cupping his ear.

  “Oh man, I’m sorry! I couldn’t see that you weren’t watching for it,” Drew calls, sounding closer than I would have expected. I see Abigail and Grace running behind my brother on their little legs, and it slowly begins to sink in.

  Jonah and I are not going to be getting a private, moonlit, romantic first kiss right now.

  Still rubbing his ear, Jonah bursts out laughing when he sees my face as I reconcile this fact. “Sorry. This laughter is just relief that this frustrates you as much as it does me.”

  “More,” I say, but that’s all I have time for before Drew is in front of us.

  He bends over and puts his hands on his knees, catching his breath, before saying, “The girls claim they’re tired. Should we continue this another time?”

  Jonah gives me an innocent look. “What do you say, Sprite? Should we continue this another time?”

  I kick a bit of sand at his calves and reply, “Preferably very soon.”

  He smiles down at me. “Completely agree.”

  Drew looks between us, confused. Then he shrugs. “Hey, can I captain back?”

  “Still your birthday, right?” Jonah asks.

  All I can think about the entire ride to the boats is kissing Jonah. I’m 99.9999 percent sure he has the same thing on his mind, because the quarter inch or less of air between our bodies on the dinghy bench is practically crackling. It’s like those science catalog toy spheres where the electricity inside connects to the warmth of the palm you place on the glass and creates sparks wherever you move your hand.

  I’m ready to jump out of my skin.

  I don’t understand how everyone around us doesn’t sense the crazy energy, but Drew seems totally chill, eyes focused ahead as he steers toward Tide Drifter’s anchor light, and Abigail and Grace are yawning up a storm. I tap my fingers restlessly on my leg until Jonah settles his hand over them and shoots me a knowing smile. A second later his thumb slips under my palm and begins moving in small circles against it, and—I’m gonna just say it—if those sweet monsters become alert and start singing preschool rhymes at us right now, I promise I will drop them overboard without a second thought.

  “Who’s tying us on?” Drew asks as we approach the platform.

  Jonah gives my hand a reluctant squeeze before withdrawing his. “I got it,” he says, hopping off and grabbing the rope Drew holds up.

  Amy and Miranda come out and take the sleepy girls from us.

  “Your mom headed back to your boat already,” Miranda tells us.

  I was holding out hope that Mom and Drew could ride in Minecraft and somehow, some way, Jonah and I could subtly finagle some private time, but so much for that idea. Jonah gives me a halfhearted shrug and lets Drew steer us over to Sunny.

  He secures us and offers me his hand. I accidentally-on-purpose lean into him more than necessary as I exit and his arm comes around my waist to “steady me.” He pulls me close and whispers in my ear, “This is gonna happen.”

  Before I can ask what “this” is—the kiss? Us?—he releases me to offer Drew a hand, then hops back inside the Zodiac.

  Drew tosses Jonah the rope, then turns to me. “Oh, hey, Cass. I forgot.” He raises his elbow and stuffs his armpit in my face. “Check it out. I remembered deodorant. Well, Jonah texted me a reminder, but that’s still progress, right?”

  “That’s great, Roo,” I say with a sigh. I can hear Jonah laughing as he starts the outboard engine.

  Yup. Just exactly where I saw this night headed a little bit ago.

  25

  I wake up the next morning in the middle of a dream about being in Pleasant Hill and, in a sleepy haze, in the pitch black, I forget I’m not in my own bedroom. When I reach for my lamp with its polka-dotted shade and instead encounter a wooden cubby, I jolt back to reality.

  For a second I’m upset, until I remember Jonah, and then I’m just plain confused at how much I suddenly don’t want this trip to ever end. For most of the time up until now I’ve wanted to be back home, but nothing’s black and white anymore. It’s like how I always used to think the ocean was blue, but the more time I spend surrounded by it, the more I see the greens, the grays, the purples, and the whites.

  Only one thing is crystal clear. I still, pretty desperately, want Jonah to kiss me. I’m a thousand percent unconflicted on that one.

  When I poke my head out of the cabin, I’m greeted with a wall of white fog as murky as the insides of my brain. I’m guessing we’re not going anywhere today.

  “Isn’t supposed to clear at all,” Mom confirms. “Might even rain later. We’re hanging tight until tomorrow. Christian and Jonah went to the harbormaster’s office to try to get some better charts for maneuvering out of here, in case it doesn’t lift by then either.”

  I sigh and retreat to the cabin like a turtle headed back inside its shell. I email Dad and spend some time grooming my bonsai tree. How long does a trip to the harbormaster take? What excuse can I find to get Jonah alone today? I can’t come up with any more ways to kill time, so I land on schoolwork. I attempt a rough draft of a paper, but my head isn’t in it. It’s on replaying every word Jonah said on the beach last night. When I hear his voice, just after lunch, I’m convinced I’ve conjured it in my imagination.

  Except that it’s really him.

  I throw on a Windbreaker and tug a brush through my hair before racing above deck. He smiles when he sees me, but it’s overly casual. No hint of the charged looks he was giving me last night, which I guess is good, because my mother is watching closely.

  “I don’t know,” she’s saying to him, leaning against the bench and crossing her arms. “It’s pretty gross out there.”

  “What’s up?” I ask.

  “Jonah was just dropped off to see if you wanted to grab some lunch with him.”

  Jonah nods. “Cabin fever. Christian’s had his fill of his relatives, so he’s on board, and the man is unnaturally obsessed with opera. That’s okay most of the time, but some days . . .”

  He lifts his hand as if to say “have some pity, ladies!” and my mother laughs. I force myself to keep quiet and watch instead, curious about how this will play out. I’m worried if I attract any attention to myself, she’ll be able to read every emotion I’m sure I must be wearing on my sleeve right now.

  Her nose scrunches as she peers over Jonah’s shoulder at the wall of fog between us and the shoreline. “I don’t think it’s a great idea today. I know you’re a pro with the dinghy, but there are a lot of boats anchored out here to navigate around, and landing ashore in this fog could be tricky. You’re completely welcome to hang out here with us as long as you’d like.”

  Better than nothing, in my opinion, but the idea of hours in a confined space with Jonah and two of my family members as chaperones presents its own set of dilemmas.

  Jonah glances at me and smiles confidently. I narrow my eyes.

  “How a
bout a compromise, Mrs. McClure—”

  Mom interrupts. “For the hundredth time, Jonah, please call me Elise. Mrs. McClure is my mother-in-law.”

  Was her mother-in-law, she means, but I don’t correct her. For once the divorce reminder doesn’t even bother me; I’m too interested in what he’s about to suggest.

  My mother tilts her head. “I’m all ears.”

  Jonah points to the dinghy. “What if Cass and I were to get in, but not actually go anywhere?”

  Mom’s forehead creases, along with mine.

  Jonah elaborates, “We were interrupted last night in the middle of a conversation, only it’s kind of a personal topic and I’d rather we keep it one on one, if that’s okay?”

  He seems to be carefully avoiding my eyes as he says this, and I stifle a smile. Conversation. Mmm-hmm.

  “And you think the rope is long enough to afford you that privacy?” my mother asks, but her eyes are twinkling and I know she’s just teasing him now. She has no reason to say no, unless she suspects what we really want the time alone for.

  It’s kind of a perfect plan, really. Even just twenty feet out from Sunny-Side Up’s stern, we’ll be almost impossible to hear. Ordinarily, sound travels easily across water and we’d have to be a whole lot farther from the boat not to be overheard. But the fog smothers everything. It’s almost creepy how quiet the busy harbor has become, compared to the last few days here. It’s like at home, when we wake up to a blanket of snow and the whole world is hushed.

  We’ll also be completely invisible. We’ll basically be wrapped in a cocoon out there.

  “I’ll grab my shoes,” I say before she can consider any longer.

  Three minutes later, Jonah has tugged the dinghy in and lined it up against the back of Sunny-Side Up. The tingles hit hard when he grabs my elbow to help me board. I don’t know how I feel about being the girl who gets tingles from a guy’s touch, but the sensation itself is pretty great.