‘Bridget. What’s wrong?’ 

Of course he answered. Of course he had to see her like this. Riley seemed startled at the sight of her. She must have looked even worse than she thought.

‘Could you help me fix my bike?’ she asked. ‘It’s parked in my front yard.’

‘Sure,’ he said. ‘You don’t want to sit down for a second first?’ He pointed to the blood dripping from her knee. Before she could answer, he turned and walked into the house. ‘Mum!’ he yelled. ‘Where’s the first aid kit?’

Riley sat Bridget down on the sofa in the living room. She could hear his mum bounding up the back stairs and entering the house.

She raised her eyebrows when she saw Bridget. ‘What happened?’

‘She fell off her bike,’ Riley explained.

‘Don’t worry, we’ll fix you up in no time.’ Riley’s mother pulled the first aid kit out from underneath the sink. She passed supplies to Riley, who opened the antiseptic to put on Bridget’s knees.

‘This might hurt a little bit,’ he warned.

Bridget scrunched up her hands into fists. ‘It’s okay.’

*

His mother insisted she stay to eat. She loaded up Bridget’s plate with sausages, potatoes and salad. 

Bridget took a seat on the edge of the fire. She watched the flames dance as they scratched at the air. Riley sat opposite her, sheltered by the blaze. The way it flickered meant that Bridget caught occasional glimpses of him lit up in the darkness. If she asked him to take care of her, would he? She didn’t know if he forgave her. He still smiled, but she wasn’t sure if it was for her.

‘Bridge, do you want to go get ice-cream tomorrow?’ The words echoed in her ears. Bridget was sitting on the edge of a pool, her legs dangling carelessly in the water. It was the last summer she was here. Riley was beside her. They were at a party with all their friends but it felt like the world belonged to them.

‘Sure,’ she said. ‘Why are you asking? We get ice-cream all the time.’

He blushed and she watched as he chose his next words very carefully. ‘I meant just the two of us.’

‘Oh.’ The realisation of what he was saying felt warm spreading from her heart to fill the rest of her body. She hadn’t imagined the stolen glances across crowded rooms, the smiles in her direction, the late nights talking. ‘Yes. That sounds great.’

Later that night, her parents had pulled a suitcase out of her cupboard and the heart out of her chest.

Of course, she had thought that was heartbreak. It felt like the silliest thing in the world when she learned of her mother’s illness.

Perhaps it was possible for different parts of your heart to be broken at the same time.

*

The next day, bandaids stuck to her wounds, Riley came over to have a look at her bike. Bridget held it upright using her elbows while he clicked the chain back into place. 

‘Alright.’ Riley wiped the grease off his hands and rinsed them under the tap. ‘Do you want to give it a go?’

‘Okay.’ Bridget wheeled her bike onto the street. She took a deep breath, swung her leg over the seat and pushed off the ground. Her feet found the pedals and she spun them round and round. ‘It’s working!’

Riley threw his arms into the air. ‘Huzzah!’

They rode together along the foreshore further down the beach than Bridget had ever been before. The sun was just starting to dip beneath the clouds. Eventually, Riley pulled over to the side of the road and parked his bike by the boardwalk. Bridget did the same. They sat on the edge of the boardwalk, the ocean licking their toes. She couldn’t afford to mince her words anymore.

‘I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye.’

Riley shook his head. ‘I wasn’t sure if you were ever coming back.’

The sun burst through the clouds into a thousand shades of pink. Bridget peeled the bandaids off her hands and climbed down the railing into the water. She slowly lowered her hands into the ocean, letting the water into her wounds. It stung at first, but then she was flooded with relief.

‘If it was my choice, I would never leave this place.’

Please understand me, she thought. Please know that I would never choose to leave you.

*

The summer sped by and Bridget started to get her favourite person back. Riley showed up at her doorstep one morning with two plastic buckets. They were bright neon colours, clearly meant for those much younger than them, but Bridget grabbed hers anyway and they went down to the beach to catch crabs. He rode into town with her and came back with baskets full of fresh food. His family had hers over for dinner when they couldn’t manage the cooking. 

Best of all, he drove her mother to the spot by the boardwalk. She had forgotten it was normal for someone her age to get their learner’s permit.

Bridget got to show her mother the most gorgeous sunset in the world and she was so grateful for that moment. Riley waited by the car, not wanting to interrupt. Bridget squeezed her mother’s hand and marvelled at all the colours in the sky.

*

Bridget was walking along the beach when she saw him standing in the distance. Staring at the ocean. Just as she liked to do.

‘How’s your mother doing?’ Riley asked.

‘She’s okay,’ Bridget said. ‘Better. She came with us to the supermarket this morning.’

‘That’s such good news!’

‘I know.’

‘You’re still not smiling.’

‘I know.’

‘How are you doing, Bridget?’ Riley asked. It was those words that made Bridget finally look him in the eye.

She couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked her that.

She cared about her mother. That was where all her energy had gone for months. On the tram, jumping between her school, her house and the hospital. Washing the dishes at night because her dad had fallen asleep on the couch. Hanging up the laundry to make sure that her sports uniform was clean for the carnival that her mother couldn’t come to see. Picking up groceries on her way home from school. Anything that made their lives easier.

She hadn’t even noticed the weight on her shoulders until he offered to lift it. 

It all came tumbling out. How worried she was. How she couldn’t even celebrate the good times because she knew the cycle would keep going and they would disappear. How she couldn’t think about anything else. How she didn’t mind helping out around the house but that she felt useless. It wasn’t even going to make a difference.

None of this surprised him. He just nodded along and listened. Like he perfectly understood everything she was saying. 

‘I’m terrified of losing her,’ she found herself saying. ‘I’m not supposed to think about it, I’m not even allowed to admit that I’ve considered it. I’m supposed to stay positive. But when I don’t have the strength to do that anymore, I realise that all that’s left is fear.’

‘You and your mum are two of the strongest people I know,’ Riley said. 

He didn’t tell her it was all going to be alright.

He didn’t tell her to keep her chin up.

He knew not to lie to her. To say things that he thought she should hear.

He just told her the truth.

*

 They sat on the beach together.

She looked at the ocean, a world of opportunity and promise just before her eyes.

Then she leaned on the shoulder of the boy sitting beside her.

She didn’t need to ask him to take care of her. He did it anyway.

The following morning, while her mother was resting, Bridget went to the beach. Their house was on the quiet side of the island. No waves worthy of surfing, so it was always relatively serene. It was a good place to sit and think and these days Bridget did a lot of thinking.

Most of the summers in Bridget’s life had been exciting. Full of colour and sun and memories. Almost all of them had taken place on this very beach. Racing and jumping between the rockpools to see who could catch the most crabs. Building giant sandcastles only to surrender them to the ocean. Running through the sea, legs weighed down by the water so their lungs were full of laughter.

Riley was in a lot of those memories. He was one of the few who lived here. Bridget was only a summer migrant. She hated saying goodbye at the end of every summer to all her friends here, but especially him. They never stayed in touch during the rest of the year. It was like he was tied to this place. He was always here when she returned.

Until she didn’t return.

 *

They left in the middle of the night. Her parents were fighting and Bridget was trying not to listen. She was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and dreaming of honey ice-cream, sweet and sticky dripping down her fingers. Before she knew what was happening, they opened the door to her room and pulled her suitcase from the cupboard. They packed her clothes into it right in front of her without a word as to what was happening. Summer was over. They were heading home.

But this is home, Bridget thought.

She felt like a ghost, watching them pack up all her things, put her in the car and drive away. Across the bridge. Back to the mainland. All while Bridget was still looking through the back window.

Her mother was on the phone the entire road home. Bridget assumed it was something to do with her job. Maybe she was going to be fired. Bridget tried to recall what her mother had said when she talked about work. It was mostly coffee and stress.

It turned out to be the opposite. She got a promotion.

Bridget went back to school and started catching the tram home for the first time. She had begged for years to be given such freedom. But every time she opened the door to an empty house, she didn’t feel independent. She just felt alone.

As Bridget dialled down the temperature on the air conditioner, all she thought about was going back. As she wiped the sweat from her brow on the walk home from the tram stop, all she thought about was going back. There was a small flame of hope starting to build inside her. Summer was coming. And she would get to go back.

But the days and weeks and months all passed and there was no good news.

That was the first summer she spent in the city. It was hot and sticky and sweaty and she wished for a wave to crash over her to cool her down. She slept on a single sheet in front of a small spinning fan that would eventually break. She stayed in her room, reading books about the ocean. Pirates and mermaids and sea creatures and secret islands and terrible storms. When she had devoured all those stories, she went to the library to find more. Sometimes if she stood in the shower and shut her eyes, she could almost feel the ocean around her. She went to the local swimming pool only to swallow a mouthful of chlorine.

She didn’t expect good news the following year. Her parents told her she was getting older. She should be looking forward, not back.

Not long afterwards, it became a summer of tests, appointments and dead ends. White corridors and waiting rooms and ticking clocks.

Suddenly, looking forward was even scarier than before.

*

Just after Bridget returned from the beach, Riley and his mother showed up on their doorstep clutching a wicker basket full of fruits and vegetables. They clearly already knew. 

Bridget felt like everyone knew. 

Her dad told them that her mother was still asleep, but they were welcome to come back in the afternoon. He thanked them for the food. They promised to return with more. Bridget watched as Riley’s eyes darted around the hallway, probably searching for her. Not knowing that she was hidden at the top of the staircase, digging her fingernails into the carpet and watching the marks disappear. Her dad closed the door and she leapt forwards to help carry the food into the kitchen. 

She made a fruit salad for lunch, the sour berries exploding with flavour inside her mouth.

*

In the evening, Bridget was riding her bike back from town when the chain slipped and she flew over the handlebars. 

The pain was immediate as soon as she smashed into the ground. The gravel dug into her knees and palms. Her hands were stinging. The ache shot up her arms as she lay helpless on the side of the road.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, she took a few deep breaths and then sat up to examine the damage. She could move all of her limbs. She could see the road in front of her. She was only a few blocks away from home. 

Her chain laid in a greasy mess on the grass. Gingerly, she picked it up and put it in her front basket. She pushed her bike the rest of the way home, only to find that the door to her parents’ bedroom was shut.

Feeling defeated, she returned to her bike in the front yard. Her fingers were shaking too much to slot the chain back into place.

Over the fence, she could see a bonfire blazing in the pit in Riley’s backyard. Somebody was home.

She wheeled her bike over and knocked next door. She wasn’t sure who she wanted to answer. Let it be Riley. Let it be his mother. Let it be—

Read Chapter Three.

Bridget stuck around for maybe half an hour after bringing in the last box from the car. She wanted to make sure that her mother was really asleep, then she snuck off. She had been promised a whole summer here, but she was impatient and she wanted to taste it now.

The beach looked the same as in her memory. The bay curved away from her in a sloping crescent. She could see the tiny dots of people at the other end. But right here was her little patch. Her beach. The blue of the sky perfectly complemented the blue of the sea. Just beneath the edge of the sky, the tops of the waves gently rippled in the breeze.

Bridget loved feeling the sand between her toes. She stood perfectly still and let the ocean do all the work, greeting her and leaving her over and over again. She listened to the seagulls circling above and the waves swelling and breaking in front of her. If she closed her eyes, she could still see exactly what was in front of her. 

She shook off her sandals and dropped them on the sand behind her as she ran into the ocean. She scooped up the water in her hands and washed her face with it. She rubbed at her freckles and massaged her cheeks with it. She stared up into the sky, as the sun painted her light brown hair gold. She could feel her heartbeat slow and her muscles relax. She wanted to live in this moment forever. She was greedy; she always wanted to hold onto things just a little bit longer.

He was standing on the sand, holding her shoes in his left hand. 

She stopped walking out of the ocean. She could hear her heartbeat now. She had no idea how he looked the same after all this time: soft curly brown hair, broad shoulders and sharp eyes.

He was taller now.

‘Hey, Bridge.’ Riley swung her shoes beside him. ‘Welcome back.’

Bridget ran her fingers through her hair, now very conscious of the fact it was dripping wet.

She felt like she had so much to tell him. She’d imagined this meeting a thousand different ways. In her mind, she always thought she’d have more time. He wouldn’t make an effort to see her. He wouldn’t care. Maybe he was a million worlds away. She’d been here five minutes and he’d already found her. 

‘I didn’t know if you still lived here,’ she said.

‘I didn’t know if you wanted to see me,’ is what she meant.

‘I wanted to run out of the car and knock on your door immediately,’ is what she longed to say.

‘But it would’ve killed me to know that you didn’t want to see me,’ is what she almost confessed.

‘I didn’t actually believe that I was back, here, myself, until I put my feet in this water and laid my eyes on your face,’ is what she had just realised.

‘Do you think that when the wave leaves the shore, it knows that it’s coming back?’

He was the one with the undoubtable grin.

She was the one who left without saying goodbye.

*

Bridget remembered the first time she had talked to Riley about how much she loved the ocean.

Because it was love that Bridget felt. People would often ask why and she found it hard to explain. They simply couldn’t believe that a body of water could hold that much beauty.

But on that day, sitting on the slats of the pier, it was easy to explain to Riley.

She loved the smell of seafoam that hung in the air and the breeze that carried her towards the shore. She loved the moment of unforgivable cold when she first stepped into the water, the freezing jolt of shock that shot through her. She thought it was better to run in, hell bent and head first, and embrace it all at once. She found that the chill disappeared quickly when she was enjoying herself. When she lifted her head up from underneath the waves and felt the beams of sunlight warm her face.

She loved the sun. It was such a tease, hiding behind the clouds, always looking for a dramatic entrance. Bellowing, ‘Look at me!’ loudly and briefly before disappearing again. She laughed as it lit up the sky and revealed the sparkles in the water.

She could lie there forever, floating on the water wherever it may take her. She would turn herself over to become part of the ocean in a moment if she could. She would give her body to the sea, her skin to the sand and her hair to the sun. This was where she truly belonged. Where she began and where she would end.

Sometimes Bridget liked to take herself out of the ocean, out of her body, and sit on the sand and take it all in. Close her eyes and listen to the ocean’s constant hello and goodbye as the waves crashed on the sand. Getting closer and closer each time, they would whisper, ‘Come back… Come back…’

And Bridget would eventually give up and retreat back in. She would let the water take her and stare up into the blue and white speckled sky. She would remain amongst the rhythm of the waves, her heart beating in time with it, for as long as she could.

When Bridget finished speaking, when she stopped to take a breath, she glanced back at Riley and saw a new look in his eyes. It was the look of being understood for the first time.

*

As Bridget pulled the bed sheets up to her chin on that first night of her seventeenth summer, she looked across the fence to Riley’s house. The windows were dark so she couldn’t see inside, but she dared to dream that things could really be the same again. If amongst the storm raging in the rest of her life, she could have one moment of peace.

Salt is a story told in three chapters. Read Chapter Two and Chapter Three.