“Li, I—”
“You did the thing! You have the championship. Now you can have a captainship and we can finish our senior season together!” Lalitha screamed, “We’re getting the team back together!”
Swimming with her girls. Her sun-drenched solo bedroom and huge tub. Her Fiat.
Her schedule.
Her cello.
Her empty house.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
“What?”
“I said I can’t, Li.”
“What do you mean, you can’t? Mitchell said you can come home any time. You did the thing! Come home! Come swim with me!”
Erin missed Lalitha, but she was on the cusp of something bigger. New Zealand was changing her—or revealing parts of herself she didn’t know existed.
“I love you, Li,” she said. “I need to stay. I want to stay. I’m … unwinding, I think?”
“Is this about Hank?”
“It’s about me, Li. I need to be here right now. I have some things to figure out.”
“You’re serious?”
“Serious. I’m working some things out right now.”
Lalitha’s silence spoke volumes.
“Lalitha, this is good for me. I promise.”
“We’re so much better with you. I told everyone you would come back to save us.”
“Honestly, Lalitha, I think right now I need to save myself.”
“What does that mean?” Lalitha asked.
“Not sure yet. I’m trying to find happiness.”
Lalitha said, “Waterson wants me back in the pool. I need to go. Are you sure about this?”
“I’m sure. I promise. Have fun.”
“You too.” Lalitha made a kissing sound before hanging up.
Erin caught up with everyone’s posts and pics from the night before. Good-Time Girl—Gloria—had posted a pic of Jade’s profile on a pillow. The climbing crew must be visiting her in Dunedin.
Everyone was preparing to return for term four. From Australia and Auckland and the cliffs of the North Island, they all would converge on Christchurch in two days.
FIFTY-EIGHT
Felicity had left a note in the caravan, because of course she had. Sun’s up! We’ve gone swimming. Slip, slop, slap, wrap if you go out.
She definitely would go out. Erin and Pippa had walked the length of the beach twice. The family had kayaked the bay in sun hats and life vests. Erin had lost herself in the glorious night sky many times. She’d buried Pippa up to her waist and fashioned a mermaid tail out of sand. She and Pippa bought ice cream from the canteen and made music together after dusk.
Pippa had given Erin a second childhood, and sleeping almost outside for days had cleared Erin’s head.
She dressed and walked to the edge of the caravan park to stare out to sea. She was not at all inclined to return to Wheaton early. This was where she needed to be—where she wanted to be—right now.
The bright morning drew her away from the sea and upward. Sunshine had dehydrated her hill (mountain) and she hiked straight up on all fours.
She might not reach the peak in an hour, but she would try.
Thirty minutes in, that wasn’t going to work.
This particular mountain was adjacent to another. They crisscrossed, creating a high valley. Erin wondered whether the geographic feature had a name.
For a good hour, she hiked and climbed toward the nearest peak. Each time she expected a peak, she crested another hill and kept going.
Eventually, finally, the ground leveled off and she walked between peaks towering above her. Turning around, peaks occluded her view of the caravan park; she could see only nature. High on the world, she saw the ocean kissing a sliver of beach far in the distance.
Wind rustled trees as she turned inland. She closed her eyes to listen to leaves beating against one another. Instead, she heard a ping from her pocket.
Hank.
Hank: Weather turned, so we came back a day early. You?
Erin: Back tomorrow.
Hank: Climbing?
Erin: Kind of climbing right now.
Hank: ?
Erin: Standing between two mountains, listening to rustling leaves.
Erin: As if the mountain is talking to me.
Hank: Now YOU have been reading Thoreau?
Erin: No.
Hank: Whitman?
Erin: No.
Hank: Some other transcendentalist, for sure.
Hank: Fresh air is good for your soul.
Erin: You’re going a bit too far.
Hank: Nope. Serious.
Hank: Had a crash hot caramel slice on holiday.
Hank: Thought of you.
Erin: Did you save me a bite?
Hank: I thought of you as I devoured it. That counts.
Hank: See you tomorrow?
Erin: If we get home early enough.
Hank: Hope you have punnets for the drive.
Erin: Not funny.
Erin silenced her phone, closed her eyes, and listened to the wind. It soothed her.
She hadn’t been alone in nature for years. When was her last time foraging for berries or hunting for hornets’ nests? Why had she let go of the calm and the breathing and the things she loved?
Rustling trees compelled her further into the canyon, which beckoned her into its maw and away from civilization.
She went willingly. Happily. Breathing and listening.
Fresh air fed her soul; Hank was right. Hank was right about a lot of things. Erin grinned. She couldn’t wait to tell him about this.
FIFTY-NINE
Darkness descended as Erin made her way back to the caravan. She spotted Felicity’s green light and slowed. Nearly back to civilization, she needed another moment to herself. She gazed at the night sky; she could see forever.
Way before Erin was born, NASA had sent Voyager 1 into space. Everyone made a big deal when it left the galaxy thirty years later. Thirty years! Gazing at the stars, Erin saw light-years into the future. Many stars had died already but would appear in the night sky her entire life.
What a complicated universe. Nothing she did could alter it, so why shouldn’t she do what she wanted? The universe didn’t care whether she went to Columbia. The universe didn’t care whether she went to college at all.
So, really, all that really mattered was what
