Nine
The knocking on the hull was not going away. I already knew who it was: Jonas. He was always up before anyone else in the mornings.
Then the knock had an accompaniment. “Mia. Mia! Get out of bed.”
I climbed into the cockpit and shaded my eyes. Jonas’s face was over the toe rail, which he held in one hand while gripping a paddle with the other.
“A little bird told me you would like to go paddleboarding.” His voice was more confident and comfortable, and I could almost forget that he was a superfan.
“It’s early,” I whined, rubbing my eyes. “Can we go later?”
Jonas pointed up, and I tipped my head back. The sky was molting toward blue, but the sunrise still dominated and it was absolutely cloudless. “It is going to be very still today. And very hot later.” Jonas looked back at me.
