Page 86 of Should the Sky Fall

Now that Cal pointed it out, the words jump straight out at him.

Not everything has to make sense.Well, that’s…cryptic. Then again, Gabe’s messages generally are.

“Did he write you one?” he asks Cal.

Cal shakes his head. “Do you know what yours means?”

“Nope. But Gabe loves mystery. You’ll see when he writes something for you.”

Cal smiles. “Looking forward to it.”

They walk slowly, having taken off their shoes. They talk about Gabe and the cafe. Cal asks if they could bake some stuff at home. Dawson says no. Cal pouts again.

They eventually find some shade under the trees and sit down in the sand.

“That looks like fun,” Cal says.

Dawson follows the direction of his gaze to a group of people surfing further down the beach.

“You can surf too.” It’s been a while since Cal had found the time for it, but he used to do it a lot when they first met.

“Really?” Cal asks with disbelief. His expression turns rueful as he watches the surfers. “I doubt I could now.”

Dawson thinks back on what Doctor Connelly told him. “The doctors said that muscle memory relates to a different part of the brain from the one that stores your memories. Your body probably still knows how to do this stuff.”

Cal mulls it over, then gives a decisive nod. “I’d like to try.”

“Yeah, sure.” Dawson laughs. “In a few months when you’re not all stitched up and won’t be attracting sharks with bleeding all over yourself.”

Aaand there goes the pouting again. “Do you surf?”

Dawson nearly snorts out his chai. “Really badly. I have two left feet and zero body coordination.”

“Did I ever try to teach you?”

“Yeah,” Dawson admits quietly. He still remembers the excitement of that first time Cal got a training board for him and spent hours trying to teach him basic stuff. He also remembers how stupid and embarrassed he felt when the one time he actually managed to stand up, he ended up going down in two seconds flat.

He remembers how annoyed Cal was with him, although he didn’t say anything. Not until Dawson asked him a few weeks later if they could try again. Cal had given him a patronizing look that spoke volumes, then made it abundantly clear that he had no such intention, because he had better things to do than waste time teaching him stuff that a kid could do. Needless to say, Dawson never asked again.

“But I was really bad so you gave up.”

Cal frowns. As though he hadn’t heard a word Dawson just said, he says, “Maybe we could go together next time. When I’m not stitched up.”

Dawson should sayno, thank you. He has no interest in having a repeat of that humiliating experience. Evidently, not all of him is on board, because his stupid heart flutters at the idea, at the thought of being able to rewrite the experience. Not that there would be any rewriting, because time might change many things but ridding Dawson of his status as a major klutz isn’t one of them.

Despite that knowledge, he finds himself saying, “That would be nice.” And when Cal gives him a brilliant smile, his blue irises turning turquoise in the sunlight, he can’t bring himself to take it back. “But you’ll have to promise me not to leave me out there when you lose your patience.” It’s meant as a joke, a distraction. He feels too open and vulnerable, Kieran’s warning ringing in his ears.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Cal’s expression is positively horrified. “Did I ever do that?”

“No,” Dawson assures him quickly. “But I wouldn’t blame you. Iampretty bad.”

Cal makes a displeased sound. “Maybe I just wasn’t a good teacher.”

Having no idea what to say to that, Dawson throws back whatever is left in his cup and changes the topic.

“Oh, I meant to tell you. I spoke to Ellis last night. He’s flying in today. I invited him over for dinner tomorrow. Is that okay?”

“Yes, of course. I haven’t spoken to him in a few days. Is he moving here permanently?”