Page 13 of Shift the Tide

“I was in Costa Rica last week, and next week we're meeting with a new organization in Denver. Pete wants to focus on more things stateside in the next few years, given we don’t know how much funding is going to be cut over the next few years with this administration," Izzy replied, her voice neutral.

"Smart, given how shitty America is becoming for anyone who isn't a billionaire white guy," Kiera muttered.

"Exactly," Izzy said curtly, nodding.

Kiera answered with a small laugh, even though it sounded a bit forced. “Well, you’ve got the tan to prove you’re doing something right out there.”

Izzy’s lips twitched, but she didn’t smile. “Guess so.”

They entered the market, the air conditioning raising goosebumps on Izzy’s arms as her sandals slapped against the linoleum flooring.

"Are you a mineral sunscreen person?" Kiera asked as they paused to stare at the end cap display of various sunscreens, her voice intentionally light, hoping to ease the tension. "You know, the whole coral reef-safe debate?"

Izzy crossed her arms, her gaze skimming over the rows of bottles. "I usually just grab whatever works," she said flatly. "I don’t overthink it."

Kiera tilted her head, picking up a bright blue bottle and examining it. "Mineral’s supposed to be better for sensitive skin," she offered, trying to fill the silence.

Izzy exhaled with exasperation, reaching for a bottle of chemical sunscreen. "This works fine for me."

"But isn’t it bad for marine life? I mean, with all the studies—" Kiera started, her tone edging toward defensiveness.

Izzy cut her off, her voice sharper now. "Not everything has to be a debate, Kiera."

The words hung in the air, stinging. Kiera blinked, her hand faltering as she set the bottle back on the shelf. "I wasn’t trying to start a debate," she said softly. "I just thought?—"

"You just thought you’d lecture me about sunscreen.” Izzy grabbed a bottle and tossed it into the basket she’d grabbed near the entrance.

Kiera’s cheeks flushed, and Izzy instantly felt a pang of regret for the harsh words. That wasn't like her. She was a go-with-the-flow person, but Kiera brought out something more difficult to manage within her.

"I wasn’t—" Kiera stopped herself, shaking her head. "Never mind."

"’Kay,” Izzy said flatly. Her guilt wasn’t going to make things instantly better between them. The basket swung in Izzy’s handas she headed for the self-checkout. Kiera froze for a moment before she followed, her steps hesitant.

The weight of the unspoken tension followed as they left the store, pressed down harder with every step, thick like the humid ocean air. Izzy walked ahead with deliberate, purposeful strides, her shoulders set as if bracing against something unseen. Kiera followed a half-step behind.

By the time they reached the house, sunscreen in tow, Izzy’s frustration had dulled to a simmering ache in her chest. The walk back had been quiet, crowded with words unsaid. She didn’t even know why she was so angry — no, that wasn’t true. She knew exactly why.

It had been easier to be mad at Kiera. Easier to replay all the ways she’d meddled during that mess in Telluride, to keep the story simple: Kiera made things harder. Full stop. Izzy clung to that version because it let her avoid the truth — that even back in college, and again on that chaotic trip, there had been moments when she'd wanted to lean in instead of pull away. Moments that scared her more than any argument ever could.

But now? Now the silence felt safer. The distance gave her room to breathe — and to hide. Because if she let the anger go, she’d have to face what was underneath: a question she didn’t know how to answer, a feeling that refused to stay buried. And Izzy wasn’t ready to look at that. Not yet.

Guilt clawed at her anyway. She shouldn’t have snapped at Kiera like that — over sunscreen, of all things. It wasn’t fair. But every time Kiera tried to bridge the gap between them, Izzy felt the old annoyance from Telluride pulse under the surface. She wasn’t ready to forgive Kiera just yet, not after how much Kiera had hurt Danica and Pete, not after the mess she’d made.

And yet, seeing Kiera’s face when she shut her down — a flicker of hurt, quickly masked by polite detachment — made Izzy feel even worse.

It would be so much easier if she could just stop caring altogether.

Back inside the house, the others were already prepping for an afternoon at the beach, laughter filling the space. Izzy stayed by the door for a second longer than she needed to, staring down at the bottle of sunscreen in her hand.

It doesn’t have to mean anything.That had been her mantra after that stupid kiss back in college. A mistake. A moment of weakness. But every time Kiera looked at her with that hesitant, hopeful softness, it chipped away at the carefully built mantra just a little more.

Izzy set the sunscreen on the counter with more force than necessary and slipped away before anyone could notice her lingering discomfort. She needed air. She needed space.

She stepped out onto the back deck, the ocean breeze tugging at the loose strands of her hair. She tried to remind herself of how simple things were supposed to be here — surf, sun, and friends. But the longer she stood there, staring out at the waves, the more complicated it all felt.

You’re being ridiculous,she told herself.You don’t owe Kiera anything, not even after years of friendship.

But deep down, she wasn’t sure that was true.

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