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Yaz didn't know what was worse. The island (sweet land that didn't sway under her feet and stayed stable) or the boat (which was exactly the opposite.)
It's been two nights since their escape from the island. They're nowhere near Costa Rica and already, Yaz wished it was over. This was somewhat different from the ferries she was used to riding, she wasn't seated in a chair far away from the railings and high enough away from the water. They were on a yacht and while Yaz prides herself in her balance on both feet, she'd still be lying if she said she didn't feel dizzy at all.
Tonight, she's not sleeping while the rest of the squad does. they've agreed to continue the keep watch routine they've been doing for the past 6 months (god has it really been that long?) and it just so happened Yaz was who they last left off on. She doesn't mind, it gives her alone time. something she only ever indulges (indulges as in she's not on high alert for danger) at night ever since she got stuck on the island. Alone time means sketching and with this whole new environment, she could sketch for hours.
"ugh." Yaz groans, pressing her fist to her lips to contain whatever lunch she had that day. even picking up her pen was giving her a doozy, sketching would be impossible at this rate.
"ooo, that sounded bad."
Yaz perked up, turning around to see her best friend standing just a few steps away. "Sammy, what are you doing up?" she asks, putting away her notebook and pen. "It's not your turn to keep watch yet."
"Oh, I know! I just couldn't sleep yet. I figured, instead of putting up with Kenji's snoring, I'd hang out with you!" grinning, Sammy sits next to her on the edge of the boat. Briefly, Yaz thinks sitting near the swim platform was actually a bad idea, being so near the water was nauseating. Now that Sammy was nearer though, she couldn't possibly think of sitting anywhere else.
"What, not liking Kenji's company now?“ She jokes lightly and, from hearing Sammy's giggling, prepares her wit. "I only like his company when he's not snoring as loud as Bumpy's bathroom time," Sammy responds, just as light.
"Don't remind me. I miss Bumpster with all my heart but keeping watch the same time Bumpy needed to go number 2 was a nightmare." Yaz groans, partly from the salty air and partly from the memories of Bumpy's horrid drops. "But it did help Ben make peace with germs! Can you believe that little germaphobe grew up to be whatever Ben is now?! I feel like a momma hen watchin’ her son settle into his angsty phase." Sammy exclaims. They both laugh at the absurdity of it all, in disbelief and awe of Ben.
The yacht creaks as it goes over a rather big wave. The two girls hold on to the side of the boat and Sammy doesn't miss the small sound of gagging from Yaz. Only when the boat finally settled did the two talk again.
"Are you okay?" Sammy asks, hushed and whispered differently from the light tone she had been using. Yaz looks over at her, realizing what she might've looked —Curled into herself, knuckle on her lips, probably visibly green. Vulnerable.
Yaz straightens up, waving off the look Sammy only gave to her when she was concerned. "I'm peachy." she whispers back, feeling not at all as fresh as peaches were.
Sammy makes a face, the one Yaz gets when she fails at lying. "Let's lay down." She tells her, already tugging on Yaz's jacket to follow her on the floor. The 'no' quickly dies in Yaz’s throat once she touches the floor, she's laying on her side to face Sammy and ignores how she's much closer to the sea and the waves underneath in favor of Sammy's presence.
Closing her eyes wasn't doing her any good, and she couldn't grip anything other than her own palm on the boat. Anchoring herself as casually as she could in front of Sammy, to not add to her troubles. She gives her a nervous smile, praying to whatever experience she got from being stranded on an island that she could hold in a little bit of nausea.
"here." Sammy suddenly offers, holding out her hand in front of Yaz.
Yaz stares at it for a moment, processing how they're back to whispering. Sammy's hand is clean from any of the island's dirt, if now somewhat dry from playing in the seawater for too long. There are cuts on her palm, probably from the many times she's fallen on her ass and used her hands to fend away from every dinosaur that was out to get them. The way her palm lines bump into each other, taking form but also disorienting into shape. This probably meant something important.
Yaz muses back to a time before disaster struck, back at the camp when they were all watching a "BROOKE MEETS A PALM READER: DESTINY IN YOUR HANDS" video. She regrets not watching the video in favor of complaining about using all caps in the title, because then maybe she'd know something about there being a love line and what kind of person Sammy will be destined with. (She subconsciously digs her nails into her own palm).
Yaz high-fives her.
and suddenly, Sammy's hand is yanked back just as fast as it was offered. Her facepalm rings loudly on the quiet boat. Loud enough that Yaz would have asked if it left a mark if it weren't for the even louder giggling coming out of her friend.
"What?" Yaz asks, watching as Sammy bites into her palm to quiet down, not risking waking up the whole boat. She's red in the face with tears in her eyes and Yaz can almost feel her own burst of laughter threatening to escape her breath with how ridiculous she looked if Sammy herself wasn't so distracting. (It wasn't supposed to be this hard, but with Sammy's damn infectious laugh...)
"What? Was I supposed to do something other than high-five it???" she gives in, a snort slips out, making it hard to finish the sentence. Sammy just laughs harder, swatting Yaz to shut up from what was apparently the funniest stand up she’s done since 2nd grade.
They're both giggling to each other now, happy. even if Yaz is confused still.
The moment fades away, Sammy breathing out the last bits of laughter out of her system. She turns to the sky, "What I meant was for you to take my hand. Not high-five it, you goof.” She smiles bright and free, making the moonlight shining above them seemingly turn into a sunny day out on the ocean as if they were on vacation. Yaz doesn’t realize she’s gone quiet to stare, Sammy has to nudge her away from it.
"Take your hand?" Yaz repeats, subconsciously swallowing the lump in her throat. She curls in on herself again, trying not to make it obvious she physically shivered. Probably getting nauseous again. Though she finds it odd her stomach doesn't feel cold and in pain, it just feels hot. Like a pit in her stomach was showered with sunlight and there bloomed millions of flowers. It's warm when she shivers again, closely ignoring the butterflies in her stomach and gingerly placing her hand between the small patch of space between their hands.
"What for?" Yaz asks, observing how the edges of Sammy's smile crinkle down and how her cheeks are tinged with a slight pink. "Well, I dunno, you’ll think it sounds weird." Sammy turns fully, the floor creaking quietly under her. They're facing each other again, Yaz doesn't shy away and holds Sammy's gaze.
"You really think after all this time with Dr. Wu, running away from a scorpio dinosaur, destroying both of them, running myself a personal marathon to get your antidote, you can still think of something weirder to tell me?" Her statement drips sarcasm and Sammy chuckles, rolling her eyes. "Thanks for makin' me feel better yet again, bestie."
A beat passes.
She gives in and asks under her breath. "Remember back at the island, when I was dyin' and everythin'?" she whispers, and Yaz feels the light-hearted mood melt back into their own quiet, little world.
"I've been trying to forget but here we are." This only earns her a snort from Sammy, but it's enough to make Yaz smile ever so softly. "Well, keep listenin' to my reminders cause this is gonna be long.“ Yaz snorts but stays quiet.
"When I was blacked out, poison swimmin' in my system, I'm pretty sure that was the coldest yet hottest I've ever felt. Every one of my senses was overloaded and numb at the same time, it was so hard to stay awake. I even hallucinated a bit and could hear Bessy next to me, as if she wasn't millions of miles away. It was comforting, but then I'd remember the mark its little scorcupine sticks left on my side, but then I’d hear Brooklynn and Bessy, but then I'd suddenly feel nauseated, and the whole thing just made me so overwhelmingly dizzy," Sammy pauses. "I didn't know what to focus on."
She sighs, closing her eyes and smiling tenderly. "Then suddenly, I felt a new warmth hold my hand. Even if my mind was as scrambled as the eggs I like, I could tell it wasn't Brooklyn anymore. it wasn't as soft as hers, kind of on the rough side actually. There was this... strength in the grip, it felt so desperate I could feel it pull me away from the pain like it was helping me out of the deep water. It was something I could focus on. It was stable. It was reliable. it was warm."
Sammy opens her eyes and gazes into Yaz's, snickering. "And it was unbelievably sweaty."
Yaz groans, turning away from her. "What a way to say thank you." She pouts with her cheeks flushed and words mumbled.
Sammy giggles. "Aw don't be like that Yaz, I couldn't tell apart your sweat from your tears so it canceled out!" She tugs on Yaz's jacket, insistent despite the groans she received. "Besides, you missed my point!"
Yaz chuckles, giving in to Sammy's tugging and falling right next to her. "If the point was to make fun of the sweat I got from running a marathon to save you-know-who's life, I'm practically sitting on the point."
They're much closer now. Since when were their faces so close together?
"My point was-" Sammy breathes, and Yaz can feel her own catch in her throat. "-holding your hand helped me from getting overwhelmed. Maybe my hand can do the same to you?"
And so, her hand is offered once more.
Yaz tries to think back to a time where she held hands with a friend before. Her daydreaming is cut short before it even starts, because Sammy’s gentle touch puts Yaz’s poor nauseous mind into a frenzy. Gentle soft fingers find their way to hold hers, sliding perfectly between the gap of her fingers. Sammy’s hand is bigger, but it was certainly lighter than hers. So tender, the way she can hold hands the same way she gives hugs. Her fingers slid close, her thumb now caressing Yaz's knuckles as slow as the waves beneath them waved about, if not slower. It's as if time stopped, with the world around them quiet except for their beating hearts.
And oh how bold was she, delirious and seasick, to bring their hands to her lips. To wrap her fingers around Sammy's hand, to feel every nook and cranny of the palm she wishes was connected to her own. To bring her lips to the very knuckle her thumb had caressed, and hum when said thumb reached over and caressed her cheek instead.
The unstable boat that swayed under her feet stilled. For a fleeting moment, Yaz feels silly for trying to think back to a time with a friend when Sammy was so much more.
Her eyes feel heavy and she succumbs to the sea of warmth Sammy gave her.
“Darius, come mentally take a picture of this.”
"You underestimate me, Brooklyn. I took a whole album’s worth of photos the moment I stepped out, don’t worry-”
“Kenji! Stop whatever you’re plotting and let them sleep.”
“I wasn’t ‘plotting’ anything, Benny. Maybe you should keep it down so they can keep sleeping, ever think of that?”
“They didn’t bother getting a blanket or anything, huh? Just plain floor works too.”
“I don’t think they need a blanket to keep warm when they’re cuddled together so close like that.”