An early moon had risen, casting a pale silver light over the sand. The world was turning blue, as though the day could no longer hold onto its colours. In the fading light she could see the lighthouse at the far end of the beach, a luminous streak in the sky. Kase had walked the track to it so many times during the day but never at night. She wondered what the cold, dark ocean would look like from high above. The bonfire crackled and the waves washed against the shore. The murmurs of her friends reached her; voices lulled by the heat of the fire and the wine.
‘Want to walk up to the lighthouse?’
It was as though Sylvie had read her mind. But Sylvie was always reading her mind. There was a line of communication running between them and they had long ago stopped saying ‘jinx’.
‘Yes. Want to see if the others are up for it?’
‘Nah,’ they said in unison and linked arms.
‘I’m cold.’ Kase huddled into the thin lines of Sylvie’s ribs.
‘Here.’ Sylvie took off her scarf and wound it around Kase’s neck.
It smelled like Sylvie. Vanilla musk mixed with smoke from the fire. As she stood, the world tilted slightly. ‘Are you as drunk as me?’ she asked as Sylvie steadied her.
‘A bit. Not too bad. Not as bad as the others.’ Sylvie pulled her close against the early summer breeze…
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