“I am falling with the cherry blossoms,” Nalani declares, arm flopped over her eyes—whether to block the sun or simply out of the dramatic is beyond me. She is stretched out across the sun-stippled grass, her skirt rumpled, homework pinned and creasing under her leg. The red string tied around her pinky finger flutters against her cheek in the breeze before disappearing around the tree.
I throw a strawberry at her. It bounces off her shoulder and rolls in the grass next to her ear. She cracks one dark eye and looks at me.
“The cherry blossoms have been gone for weeks,” I say instead of giving her the satisfaction of asking further. “April is almost over.”
Nalani knows my game and won’t give up. “He’s just so fine.”
I scoff. “And what else? He has a girlfriend, by the way.”
This makes her jerk upright. “No, he does not,” she says, half telling, half asking.
I swallow a laugh. “Yes, he does—or at least tell yourself that until you’re over him.”
“You brat. Don’t scare me like that.” She lays back down, fluffing out her dark waves and making the ribbon she tied come loose. It is thin and shiny, and the color reminds me of ballet shoes. “And I don’t want to get over him. Not yet, at least.”
I sigh, “What’s the point of getting with someone now? There are more important things in life—we graduate soon. And, we both know you’re not going to survive long-distance.” She stares at me, appalled. I grab another strawberry and bite it, fighting a smile. “It’s a waste of time to chase a guy now when in a year it’ll be heartbreak.”
“You’re no fun.”
“You didn’t seem to think so last night.” I wink.
She kicks me, and I almost choke on my strawberry. “Okay, new goal: I’m finding you a man. Maybe that’ll make you take my side for once.”
I lean back on my hand, pretending to observe the clouds. “Our brains aren’t even fully developed yet.” I look at her. “But you don’t have to make that so obvious.”
Nalani kicks me again, and this time I laugh. “I’ll find you someone. Don’t worry,” she vows, fishing a crumpled study guide out from under her leg and fanning herself with it.
Doubtful. Honestly, it’s a miracle that anyone finds their soulmate in this wide world of tangled threads—threads only I, as far as I know, can see. So, if anyone should be doing the matchmaking for us, it’s me.
But I’ll let her have her fun.
I consider my own study guide, cluttered with my long-limbed handwriting. Exam season is looming over us like bruised clouds on the horizon. We can smell the rain in the mounting homework and condensed lessons, teachers trying to squeeze the rest of the curriculum into the last weeks of the semester. The heaviness of the air makes us restless, like the way dogs get before a storm. Perhaps that is why, instead of using the library, we gather in flocks outside the old stone walls to study.
Perhaps that is also why Nalani has been especially romantic lately. It’s not as though I don’t support any of her endeavors. It’s just that she’s never looking at the right guy. I’ve been looking for him as long as I’ve known her and have yet to find who’s on the other end of her string.
My phone buzzes, and I check my texts. “Mwansa and Jamie went to the beach. Do you wanna join them?”
Nalani pauses, considering the study guide in her hand before resuming her fanning. “I could use a study break.”
I give her a look. “When exactly did you study?”
“It’s called exposure. And I work better last minute.”
I zip up my backpack and grab my blazer, shaking it out and tying it around my waist. “The fact that you have good grades is a miracle.”
“I am a miracle, darling,” she drawls in a British accent, drawing herself upright like a cat stretching in the sun.
I grin. “Don’t let Henry hear you using that.” I get to my feet and swing my bag onto my back.
Nalani wiggles her eyebrows. “Thinking of Henry now, are we?”
“Let’s go. Your ribbon came off, too.”
Nalani finds it in the grass, and I help her to her feet. Together, we head across the courtyard. The hulking walls of our school, Caléa International, engulf us in shadow before we walk through the heavy oak doors.
Cool air hits me like a breath of life. Giant windows shed sunlight across smooth stone and plaster. We make our way through arched hallways, our shoes tapping on the polished, checkerboard floors as AC hums quietly in the background.
We cut through the library and exit on the west side of the school. It’s a fifteen-minute walk to the ocean down the sycamore-lined street. Their leaves flutter gold through green above us, arms stretching up and up to the Spanish-tiled roofs. Nalani has gone quiet, as she often does, so I people-watch instead of talking. Eavesdropping doesn’t often amount to much since my Portuguese is too textbook to be much use. But conversations aren’t what interest me.
I spot a couple from afar. As we draw nearer, I note the woman’s glittering wedding ring and her husband’s luxury sunglasses—I know they are since one of my classmates has the same ones and casually dropped the price like it wasn’t an outrageous number.
The woman leans into her husband’s side, threading her arm through his, and when I look next to the ring, I see the red string tied around her pinky finger dipping straight down to his.
I spy another couple across the street—my age, maybe a little younger. When I look at the boy, I see his string zipping away behind him, shimmering in my peripheral like a mirage until I look away from his hand.
High school relationships never last, anyway.
I wonder how hard they’ll take the breakup—how deeply can you love someone you’re not meant for? Nalani says she’s in love every other week, but I suspect part of it is that she’s in love with the idea of being in love more than any guy she falls for.
She’s eager and impatient for it.
I, on the other hand, have contented myself with waiting. The odds that I find my soulmate anytime soon are slim. And, without a boyfriend, I can focus on getting into my top schools with no distractions.
I glance down and check our strings—a habit, at this point. They both point toward the ocean, twinned threads stretching out of my view. This is the usual status, which suggests Nalani and I will only meet our soulmates once we graduate and leave Portugal.
We turn a corner, and the road opens up. The buildings fall away on one side, revealing the long stretch of sea. It glitters blue in the sun like a glass mosaic. Clifflike rock hugs the coastline below the short wall, giving way to scattered stretches of beach and vegetation. I take a long breath. The air is sticky with salt now that there’s nothing in its way.
Nalani and I pick our way along the wall toward the stairs to the park. From there, we can get directly to the water.
We find Mwansa and Jamie set up at a picnic table. Both have changed into bathing suits. I should’ve thought to grab mine from the dorm.
Jamie spots me as we draw near and wrinkles her nose. “Uh oh, it’s the Class Pres. Quick, look busy!”
I give her a mock superior look and sit down. “Is that procrastination I see?”
“It is!”
I shake my head as if I’m not doing the same and look out at the waves. “Did you guys swim already?”
“Yeah, a little, but the rip was strong.”
Mwansa takes a drink of her water, looking troubled. “Some tourist went out too far and got caught in it. I don’t know what happened, but Search and Rescue was out there when we left.” Unfortunately, incidents like this aren’t uncommon. People unfamiliar with our beaches—or just careless—are overconfident in their abilities and push too far. On days like this, when the water looks calm and the sun is hot, it’s unavoidable.
Overexposure to the subject drowns out my compassion. “Tourists need to be smarter.” I sigh, rolling out the tension in my neck and looking back at the waves. I can see the little red boat bobbing out among the cliffs, edging out of view.
Sitting still and seeing the water makes the temperature seem to rise. I’m restless and sticky from the walk, sweat pricking my skin and clinging my hair to the back of my neck. I adjust my shirt for some airflow. “Nalani, come swim with me.”
“We didn’t bring our bathing suits though.” Nalani frowns, trying to tie her ribbon back behind her head. “And the rip…”
I wave my hand in the air. “We won’t go in that much. Just to cool off.”
“You go ahead. I’ll join in a minute.”
I peel off my socks and shoes. I take off my rings, too—the heat has made them feel uncomfortably tight, but I’m still wary of losing them. I stand and start toward the water.
As soon as I step out of the trees, the wind blows my hair into my face. I have always liked my hair—shiny and black like my mom’s. The salt air and humidity like to make it curl around my ears and forehead, all the more so since the weather turned hot. We have pictures of hers doing just the same when she was a kid and still living in Japan.
Waves reach out to meet me as the sand turns cool and firm. I push up my sleeves and splash in. Jamie wasn’t kidding—the rip is strong. It sucks hungrily at my legs, and I give into it until I’m up to my knees and should stop.
My left hand is still uncomfortable from my rings. I take it out of the water and wring it. The feeling only gets worse. I look at my hand.
My red string is not trailing in the water. It is drawn taut, pulling, moving somewhere behind me.
My heartbeat is a loud, funny sound in my ears.
There’s no way I could be this lucky. I’m in high school. But no—my string was pointing here before. I should’ve paid closer attention if it was any different than the other times.
I turn just as someone taps my shoulder. Goosebumps rise all over my arms. I stare at his hand, at the thread that ties us together. Some heady mixture of shock and excitement and euphoria is fizzing up all over my insides.
He shows me a soaked, five-euro bill, smiling a little awkwardly. “Sorry, I tried calling, but you didn’t hear me.” His voice has a certain curve to it. Not quite an American accent, but almost. “I think this came out of your pocket.”
I squint up at him. He is in a faded orange T-shirt and stands half-blocking the sun. It haloes his head, shadowing his brown face and making his dark curls glow golden. I feel the warmth all the way to the tips of my fingers. “Oh,” I say dumbly. Not knowing the right thing to say is an odd, foreign feeling, like I’m in an exam I haven’t studied enough for. I clear my throat, “No, I don’t think that’s mine. Thanks, though.”
His brow furrows. “Are you sure? I’m pretty sure I saw it fall out.”
“Yeah, I emptied them before,” I say, feeling my pockets. But no—there’s change inside. “Or I guess I didn’t.” I take the money from him and put it in. “Thank you.”
He smiles again, and this time I notice a dimple on his left cheek. “No problem.” He turns as if to leave but wavers a moment as if deciding whether or not to say something. After a beat, he looks back at me. “Hey, and make sure you’re careful about the rip. It doesn’t feel too bad now, but if you walk into a channel, it could pull you off your feet.”
I roll my lips to keep from smiling bigger and nod. “Thank you. I’m careful.”
He smiles and nods back. “Have a good one, then.”
“You too.”
And then he is gone. I watch the thread stretch out between us. I begin to feel silly, but I can’t bring myself to look away.
“Lia!” Nalani is sloshing toward me through the surf. “Hey, your hair is curling. It’s cute!”
I wink at her and ruffle it with my fingers. “Thanks!”
She grabs my arm when she reaches me and leans close to my ear. “Who was that?”
“I don’t know. He seemed nice, though.”
“He seemed nice?” Nalani pulls away and makes a face.
A smile is fighting its way onto my face. “He was just giving me back some money that fell out of my pocket.”
She threads her arm through mine and pulls me close. “What a gentleman.”
I lean into her side. “Yeah.” We both turn and look at my boy, now on the beach. A warm, giddy buzz fills my stomach, reaching up into my chest. I smile.
“You’re smiling!” she squeals.
For once, I don’t say anything.
“Jamie and Mwansa are going to head back soon since it’s not really a swimming day,” Nalani says after a beat. I can hear her beaming, and it makes me feel soft inside. “But this is exciting, so do you wanna stay longer?” She turns and points to the horizon. “I think I’ll stay through dinner and watch the sunset and maybe do some homework.”
I turn and follow her gaze off her pointed finger. But suddenly I can’t think of homework. I can’t think of the sunset or dinner. My boy, my future, is sitting right there on the sand, and I can’t even think of him.
All I can focus on as the world is rushing away from me is the scrap of red string fluttering on Nalani’s finger. Fragile and
frayed and
broken.
I’m wrong. I have to be. I stare at the string, waiting for the sun to glance off the rest of it.
It doesn’t.
This isn’t right.
I close my eyes for a few seconds. It was just there, right? But no, I haven’t checked it since the walk down. As if my knowing the moment it happened could fix anything. As if my watching the threads unravel could have stopped it. No, Nalani’s string, as quietly, simply, inevitably as a morning star winking out, snapped. And I didn’t even notice.
A wave of out-of-body dizziness rolls over me. I am going to split open. I am going to be sick. I am light and staticky, and maybe if I tip into the waves and let the rip take me out, it will go away since the only person who knows about it will be gone, too. Maybe if I do something radical enough, I will wake up in my dorm with Nalani across the room in her creamy duvet, her string perfectly intact.
Everything is wrong.
Nalani, who yearns for love, for marriage, for family, so deeply. Nalani, who so fears loneliness. Nalani, who is close to me like the sister I never had, whom I know—
I know.
It’s like all of the oxygen is pulling itself out of my body. My chest is hollowing and squeezing tight all at once. I am choking on my breath. Choking on words that won’t—can’t—come, coiling in my throat.
Why her and not me?
Why her?
What is supposed to happen now?
A dull ache begins to work behind my temples, and the tangible pain is what starts to ground me. The first thing I become aware of is how hot and wet my cheeks have become. I turn my face away from Nalani. Only then do I see the Search and Rescue boat pulling back into our bay like some sort of funeral pyre.
Oh.
Stupid, stupid tourist. Though some part of me is breaking for him, too.
I hold on to Nalani’s hand. I don’t remember grabbing it. I shut my eyes and pull in a long breath.
My thread is still gently pulling on my pinky. For a moment, my thoughts are tugged away from Nalani, who is here, unmoored, to my boy who is back on the beach. The boy who is tethered to me, and I tethered to him. The man I will fall in love with. My soulmate. My future…
All of the things that Nalani has been cut so cleanly from.
There are more important things in life.
I lean my head on Nalani’s shoulder and open my eyes. The sunlight glitters like diamonds on the horizon. For the first time, I wonder if there are strings I can’t see. Or perhaps, if there are some strings we get to choose. Lines we cast out on our own.
When I speak, my voice is clear in my ears. “I’ll stay with you.”
