The Passed Note Issue 7 June 2018 | Page 20

mussels, wanting to become the ocean, to become something unapologetic, to be something that loud and demanding and free.

A wave crashed over Pike but did not hold her down longer than necessary, never once made her panic, and when Pike resurfaced, when she was faced again with the cold air against her skin and the waves heavy with want, there was Riley, beside her in the water. There was Riley looking at her like This is insane, you’re insane! but smiling from ear to ear, the two of them laughing as loud as their lungs could allow, and through the dark they turned and looked at Lin on the shore, throwing her hoodie aside.

“Fuck it!” she screamed before walking in, going under, meeting them in the Atlantic with the boardwalk at their backs and the ocean a laughter that roared, waves that circled in and out of their linked arms like Celtic knots and never once let any of them go.

There was never a discussion of when to swim back, just a mutual understanding, the three of them all at once, their tired, wet-soaked limbs climbing up onto the shore and their laughter, breathless and wonderfully strained, their muscles aching and their endorphins running wild as the sky continued to crash and shatter above them.

“I really want funnel cake,” Riley said, the first of them to speak since landing on the beach, her hands