Crow Flight

by Susan Cunningham

  He wrapped his arm under her waist, pulling her closer still, and the warmth and the night and the sky and his lips made her feel like she was slipping through a dream. She’d never felt this before, not even close, and she didn’t understand how it could suddenly appear.

  Unless it had always been there.

  But there was no time to think, to analyze, because they were still kissing. And so for that moment, she turned her brain off and did the only thing she could do: kiss him back.

  They kissed through a dozen more planes then finally lay there, watching the sky and each other. Felix couldn’t stop grinning, and neither could Gin. Later, as they drove home along the dark, woodsy, suburban roads, Felix held her hand tight, their forearms resting on the console.

  The whole night had been magical. Gin couldn’t make sense of it, so instead, she hummed along with the music, stole one look after another at Felix, put her window down for a minute at a time, letting the air freeze her face.

  When they reached her house, he turned the car off, and they sat for a second, in the quiet.

  “So . . .” he finally said.

  “So . . . That was, um, fun?” She smiled at him, and he smiled back, and then they were laughing.

  He shook his head and shifted in his seat so he was looking straight at her. “Really fun. Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

  She narrowed her eyes, her mouth opened in surprise. “Wait, what?”

  He held her gaze. “I’ve liked you for a while, Gin. And I want to, you know, spend time together. Watch some more planes, maybe . . .”

  They started to laugh again, and he sighed, tugging at his shaggy hair and letting it shift back into place. “I guess, what I’m wondering is, whether you’d be up for it? To hang out again?”

  She nodded, fast. “Yes. Any time.”

  He let out a breath as though relieved and leaned close again, his face inches from hers. “Okay. We’ll make a date.”

  And then they were kissing again, deliciously kissing. And Gin never wanted it to end.

  Gin waved to Felix from the door, watching the lights of his SUV until they disappeared down the street. Inside her house, she stood for a second, feeling the night wash through her again. She put one hand to her mouth, remembering the feel of his lips, the closeness of his body.

  “Hey, honey.”

  Gin looked up, startled. Her mom was sitting on the couch in fleece pajamas, her hair in a messy ponytail, her glasses on, a textbook open on her lap.

  “Did you have a good night?”

  There weren’t enough words for the night she had just had. “Yeah, it was good. It took a little longer than we thought to find the crows—that’s what our whole project is on, these crows that Felix trains—and so we ended up walking around the city a little and grabbing something to eat.” She was talking too fast, trying hard not to grin stupidly.

  “That sounds good. And you stayed in the safe parts of the city?”

  “Yes, Mom.” Gin rolled her eyes, but didn’t ask her mom to clarify her definition of safe. “I thought you were at work tonight.”

  “I was, but someone needed to swap shifts last minute, and frankly, I can use the time to study.” Her mom pushed her glasses up on her head. “But tell me about Felix—he’s Grant Gartner’s son, right? He must be pretty . . . wealthy?”

  “Yes. But Felix is down-to-earth. Not like his dad. I mean, Felix is smart and all, but he’s pretty relaxed.” Gin walked into the kitchen and grabbed a snack, so her mom wouldn’t see her smiling like crazy.

  “It’s no big deal,” Gin continued, walking back to the living room. She stood at the bottom of the stairs and ate a handful of chips. “We’re just partners for that computer modeling class. It’s a good thing, too, because he’s actually a good programmer. Anyway, I should probably go to bed. Need my sleep and all, right?”

  “Right. Me too. Well, see you in the morning, hon.”

  Gin bounded up the steps, and only when she was in her room, door tightly shut, did she pump her arms, jump up and down, and silently scream, “Yes!”

  Then in an old notebook she used for recording funny quotes and random ideas, she wrote one line.

  Senior year goal No. 1: Find (and kiss) a boyfriend. Check.

  // Twenty-Three

  When Gin got to school on Monday, Felix was waiting at her locker. He was looking the other way, so she took a moment to watch him: how he leaned against the metal door, his notebook tucked under one arm and his pencil behind his ear.

  So this was real.

  Technically, she shouldn’t have been surprised. They had messaged all Sunday and even talked on the phone that night. But she hadn’t even told Hannah. She had wanted to wait until school, mostly to see if he would pretend like it didn’t happen or say it was all a mistake. She’d still tell Hannah if that happened, but she’d rather have the whole story—better not to gush on like an idiot only to be dumped the next day.

  When he saw her, he smiled and walked straight for her. Definitely no mistake.

  “Hey.” He nudged her shoulder with his and put his arm around her.

  And she knew then, with 100 percent certainty, that even if she tweaked and corrected and revamped Love Fractal, and it still never matched her with Felix, she would choose this, choose now.

  “Hey.” Her cheeks warmed and her heart pounded. The way he was looking at her made her want to kiss him and laugh at the same time. “What?” she finally said.

  “Nothing.” He leaned close, touching his head to hers. “Just glad you’re here.”

  As she opened her locker and organized her bag, he stayed there the whole time. She felt like she should say something, but she didn’t know what to say, and truth was, it was entirely comfortable just to be there. Together.

  “So, the crows want to see you.” He was watching her, still grinning. “Maggie said so. After her big night on the town, she wanted to tell you about it.”

  “Okay.” Gin matched his smile. Their mouths would be so tired from all the smiling, they may never kiss again. “I’d like to see them, too. You know, to catch up.”

  They started walking down the hall, Felix’s arm around her shoulder again, a comfortable fit.

  “Today?” he asked.

  “That’d be nice.”

  “It’s a date. You, me, the crows. Maybe we’ll even find some time for that project.”

  When they reached Gin’s English class, they stood facing each other. “I guess I should go to class,” he said. “Unless you think I can follow you around all day. I could hold your bag. And your hand?” He took her hand and made his eyes look sad and stunningly cute.

  She managed to shake her head.

  “That’s what I thought. Okay, I’ll see you soon.” He kissed her on the cheek, light and soft, and left. Partway down the hall, he turned and waved. She waved back and, before she knew it, she was sitting in her chair, listening to a lecture. She couldn’t even remember walking into class and taking a seat.

  School was entirely different with Felix. He met her at break, and again at lunch. Gin had texted Hannah so she wouldn’t be too surprised, but it didn’t feel weird. If anything, it felt more normal. Like Gin and Felix had always been together. In modeling class, they worked on their crow program. It was so fun, it felt like class was over in five minutes.

  After the last bell, Gin waited outside for Felix. He was going to give her a ride to his house and bring her back to school to get her car. Totally inefficient, but inefficiencies were no match for more time with him.

  Hannah showed up first and gave Gin an excited, jumpy hug. “Okay, so I need more details,” she said. “When did this happen? And how? He’s so into you. I knew he at least kind of liked you, but this is . . . real.”

  “Saturday. Obviously your outfit helped. We went out for our modeling project, but I guess it turned into a date.” Gin couldn’t help how the words bubbled out, matching Hannah’s enthu
siasm. “This is good, right? I mean, it seems like it’s working.”

  “I’d say it’s working,” Hannah squeezed Gin’s arm, hard. “Well, have fun. Felix seems great. Even if his family is, you know, a little out there. Whose isn’t?”

  Gin looked up, and the beat up 4Runner was there, Felix waving from the driver’s seat.

  “There’s no hope now—you’re in this,” Hannah said.

  Hannah was right. Gin was in this. No matter what.

  “I’ll see you later?” Gin asked as she walked to his car.

  “Yeah. Call me tonight.”

  “Even if TimeKeeper doesn’t tell me to?”

  “Especially if TimeKeeper doesn’t tell you to.”

  Gin pulled open the door and slid down into the creaky passenger seat—she definitely liked the 4Runner more than the fancy SUV. As soon as she was inside, Felix took her hand, pulled it to his lips, and kissed it. She’d never grow tired of his lips.

  “So, I thought we’d make one stop before the crows,” he said.

  “Okay. What is it?”

  “A surprise.” When she frowned, he held up his hands as though it were out of his control. “And on the way, I want to hear more about you. You know—what you like, what you dislike, what you really think of school.”

  “Like a life history?”

  “No, no. Just some intel. On Regina Hartson. Starting with . . . what’s your favorite color?”

  She laughed, checking his face to see if he actually wanted her to answer. Apparently, he did. “Um, most days blue. Pretty typical, I know, considering that 30 to 40 percent of Americans choose blue as their favorite color. But majorities are there for a reason. And, sometimes, my favorite color is orange.” Too much information yet again, but somehow with Felix, it didn’t seem to matter.

  “Okay, got it, blue—like most Americans—and orange. Favorite food?”

  “Popcorn.”

  “Popcorn?”

  “The homemade kind, with lots of butter and salt. It’s the only thing my dad can cook besides pancakes. When my sister and I were little, he’d show us the kernels in the pot, and we’d each have to guess how many there were and what percentage would pop. Then he’d make this huge bowl, and before eating it, we’d count every piece of popcorn and see who was closest. Once I guessed both numbers exactly. It was like a miracle.”

  “That’s crazy. And fun. Can we do it?”

  “Absolutely. So how about you, what’s your favorite food?”

  Felix shook his head. “Uh-uh. Still my turn. What’s your favorite book?”

  Gin scrunched her nose. “What’s up with all of these favorites? You know, it’s actually hard to pick one favorite, because different things can be favorites for different situations. So maybe my favorite book for a quick, fun read is Sherlock Holmes—”

  “Somehow I didn’t peg you as an Arthur Conan Doyle fan.”

  “Yeah, well that’s the point. I might love that for certain situations, but it’s not like it’s my all-time favorite. That’s too hard. Although right now, Franny and Zooey is at the top of my list.”

  “Good book. Fits well with your analytical-yet-seeking side.”

  “My what?”

  Felix held up a hand. “Next question: what inspires you?”

  “What inspires me?” She felt her face warm—it felt so personal, not to mention the fact that she’d never asked herself that question.

  “Yes. What inspires you?”

  She glanced at him and noticed how his wooden bead necklace seemed shiny in the sun. It looked like eighty beads altogether. Maybe ninety.

  “I guess . . . numbers.”

  “Numbers?” He was curious, not teasing, but it still made her blush.

  “I mean, not the numbers themselves, but what they represent.” She was talking fast, trying to explain. “Counting. Measuring. Putting an order to things. It’s like language, the basis of all our communication. And higher math. And physics. And all of the principles the world runs on. I mean, atoms are made of certain numbers of protons and electrons—the very numbers define which element they are.”

  Felix was quiet for a second, his face thoughtful.

  “That’s cool. I hadn’t thought about it that way. But you’re right. So, numbers . . . I like it. Anything else inspire you?”

  Gin looked out the window. They were on the highway now, and she still had no idea where he was taking her. The sun was lower, lengthening shadows and turning the air a creamy gold.

  “Sure, other things do. Like sunsets. All of those colors, the different wavelengths of light, the thought of the earth spinning. And trees. I mean, they’re fractals, so that’s pretty cool. And the sound of one hand clapping. I learned that in Mr. Ryan’s class.”

  He laughed, and the light glinted off his teeth. “Okay,” she said in her most serious voice. “Now it’s really your turn. What inspires you? Feel free to add in favorite color, food, book.”

  “All right, I’ll answer a few. I like the color green, my favorite food is hot dogs, and my favorite book is—Oliver Twist and Siddhartha and The Lord of the Rings.” He said the titles fast so they ran together.

  “And what inspires you?”

  He rolled the windows down a bit, letting the cool air in. “Crows, definitely. But you already knew that. Following your heart, using your instinct—that stuff is major. And authentic people. You know, the ones who are real, genuine. Like you. And, the last thing that inspires me is what we’re about to do.”

  When they first reached the river, Gin thought they were going to sit there and watch the sunset, which would be fitting, since she had just said she liked sunsets. But Felix opened the back of his 4Runner and pulled out two long, rolled up pieces of plastic. Soon he was blowing them up with a pump.

  “Inflatable stand up paddleboards,” he said. “You’ll like it. It’s easier to learn than windsurfing. And it gets you out on the water.”

  “But it’s freezing.”

  He stepped towards her, so close she had to lean up against the car, hemmed in by him. Then he stepped closer still, their jackets touching, his feet on either side of hers, and put his hands on her shoulders.

  “It’s cold, I know. But I have a wet suit for you. And I promise, the chances of falling in are very, very small. And I also promise that you’ll love it. Okay?”

  She sighed, trying to think of a reason she couldn’t do it, but there weren’t any that came to mind, especially not with him so close. Finally, she nodded.

  Felix smiled wide, leaned in, and kissed her. And it was like she was already swimming.

  She could plug this paddleboarding option into Decider, but the answer wouldn’t matter. She already knew that she’d do it. Maybe, when it came to Felix, she’d never be able to turn down any of his ideas. And maybe that was okay.

  As soon as she pushed out on the water, she was certain it was a mistake. The wind was cold and strong, chapping her face and whipping her hair. The waves had looked small from shore, but seemed to grow once she was in their midst. The wide board bobbled. It felt insubstantial, like all it would take was a gust of wind to send her overboard, into the murky, cold river.

  She made herself breathe slowly, in and out, telling herself that the worst thing that could happen was that she fell in. And even that wouldn’t be a big deal, because she was wearing a wet suit and a life jacket, and Felix was with her. Nothing to worry about. At least, that’s what she tried to make her brain understand, so it, in turn, could tell her body.

  Felix gave her pointers. How to stand with her knees slightly bent, weight centered; how to reach out and paddle, leaning into the water; how to switch the paddle from one side to another so she’d move in a straight line. He took off to show her, and within seconds, he was gliding over the water, his board smooth, his back and arms and legs flexed, effortlessly balanced.

  “See,” he said. Water dripped from his paddle and glittered with the light. “Use
your instinct. Your body knows where center is.”

  Gin gritted her teeth, determined. She kept her knees slightly bent, her stomach tensed, her paddle poised, her eyes straight ahead. She focused on using her instinct, whatever that meant. It couldn’t be that hard.

  And, as it turned out, it wasn’t. It took some time to get the feel of it, and she wasn’t nearly as fast as Felix, but soon she was gliding over the water. The little waves bounced her up and down, but it wasn’t enough to throw her off.

  “Fun, isn’t it?” he shouted.

  That’s when she realized she was smiling.

  // Twenty-Four

  “So, what’s the verdict—did you like it?” Felix brushed his hands together after eating his last pizza pocket and took a long gulp of milk.

  “Yes.” Gin pushed her plate away, finally full. She’d been so hungry after paddleboarding, she had polished off more pizza pockets than Felix. “Though I would’ve liked it more without the fall.”

  She had fallen in, once, as they were paddling back to shore. Even through the wet suit, the water was so icy it took her breath away. But Felix was there in a second, jumping in and helping her back up. When they got to shore, she had dried off and changed in the back of his 4Runner. Then he blasted the heat in the car and held her, letting his body warm hers. That’s how they saw the sunset. Definitely her best one yet.

  “Everyone falls in.”

  “That’s not what you said earlier.”

  “The probability of falling in at any given time is very small. But everyone falls in at least once.” He finished his glass of milk and set it on the table, hard. Then he took Gin’s hand, gently tugging her out of the kitchen. “Come on, let’s see the crows. They’ve been waiting for you.”

  The aviary was so dark, it was like staring into a cave. Felix turned on some little tiny lights spaced around the walls, and Gin felt like she was under a star-filled sky.

  Soon Gin’s eyes adjusted, and she could see dark silhouettes of the birds: three, ten, dozens of them, perched all around. She followed Felix until they were standing under a tree. He leaned back against it, still holding her hand, and pulled her body close to his, so she could feel the rise and fall of his breath.