And just like that, the window was covered, making it obvious this wasn’t their first rodeo. The twins carried the ladder back to the truck while Bryce and his father returned to the storage area. They emerged carrying something heavy that resembled a small engine. They set it next to the storage area, in a spot that would be sheltered from the wind and rain. With a pull of the cord, they started it, the sound akin to a lawn mower.

“Generator,” Bryce called out, knowing I had no idea what I was seeing. “It’s pretty much guaranteed the power will go out.”

After shutting it off, they filled the tank from a large can of gasoline that had been in the bed of the truck, and Bryce ran a long power cord into the house. I absently began to rewind the film, hoping that I’d miraculously gotten the shot of Bryce that I’d wanted.

When the film clicked, I turned toward the water, which had already become a sea of whitecaps. Had he really wanted to kiss me? I continued to wonder as I saw him skip back down the steps. The others were already at the truck and after another exchange of waves, I watched him drive away.

Lost in my own thoughts, I debated heading inside before impulsively hopping on my bicycle again. I sped to Bryce’s house, knowing they wouldn’t be there yet, relieved when his mom opened the door.

“Maggie?” She stared at me, curious. “If you’re here to see Bryce, he’s working with his dad today.”

“I know, but I have a big favor I wanted to ask. I know you might be busy getting ready for the storm and everything, but I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind developing these for me.” As with Bryce, I explained my theme, and I could see her studying me.

“You said you got one of Bryce, too?”

“I’m not sure. I hope so,” I said. “It’s the last photo on the roll.”

She tilted her head, no doubt intuiting its importance to me before holding out her hand. “Let me see what I can do.”

My aunt’s house was dark and cave-like, no surprise since there wasn’t a glint of light coming through the covered windows. In the kitchen, the refrigerator was pulled away from the wall, no doubt so it could be easily connected to the generator when the time came. My aunt was nowhere to be seen, and as I took a seat on the couch, I found myself replaying the moment when I thought Bryce might kiss me, still trying to figure it out.

Hoping to get my mind off it, I retrieved my textbooks and spent the next hour and a half studying and doing homework. My aunt eventually emerged from her room to start dinner, and as I was dicing tomatoes for the salad, I heard the unmistakable rumble of a vehicle on the gravel outside. My aunt heard it, too, and raised an eyebrow, no doubt wondering if I’d invited Bryce for dinner.

“He didn’t mention that he would be coming over,” I said with a shrug.

“Would you do me a favor and see who it is? I’ve got chicken in the pan.”

I went to the door and recognized the Trickett family van in the driveway, Bryce’s mom behind the wheel. The sky had grown increasingly dark and the wind was gusting hard enough to make me grip the railing hard. When I reached the van, his mom rolled down the driver’s-side window and held out a manila envelope.

“I got the feeling you were in a hurry, so I started developing them as soon as you left. You took some wonderful shots. You caught a lot of character in some of the faces. I especially liked the one of the man smoking by the store.”

“I’m sorry if you felt like you had to rush,” I said, straining to be heard over the wind. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to take care of it before we lost power,” she said. “I’m sure you’re on pins and needles. I remember the first roll I ever took by myself, too.”

I swallowed. “Did the photo of Bryce come out?”

“It’s my favorite,” she said. “But of course, I’m biased.”

“Are they back yet?”

“I’m guessing they’ll be home any minute, so I should probably get going.”

“Thank you again for doing this so fast.”

“My pleasure. If I had my way, I’d spend every day in the darkroom.”

I watched her back up, waved as the van started rolling forward, then scurried back into the house. In the living room, I turned on the lamp, wanting as much light as possible as I went through the photographs.

As I’d suspected, there were only a couple of good ones. Most were close, but not quite perfect. Either the focus was off, or the settings weren’t ideal. My composition wasn’t always great, either, but Bryce’s mom was right in thinking the photo of the smoker was a definite keeper. It was the one of Bryce, however, that made me almost gasp.

The focus was sharp and the lighting dramatic. I had caught him just as his upper body had turned in my direction; the muscles in his arms stood out as if etched in relief, and his expression reflected intense concentration. He looked very much like himself, unselfconscious and naturally graceful. I traced my fingertip lightly across his figure.

It dawned on me then that Bryce—just like my aunt—had come into my life at the time when I’d needed him most. More than that, he’d quickly become the closest friend I’d ever had, and I hadn’t been wrong in reading his desire. Had we been alone, he might have even attempted a kiss, even if we both knew it was the last thing I wanted or needed. Like me, he had to know that there was no way a relationship between us could ever work. In a few short months, I’d leave Ocracoke behind and become someone new again, someone I didn’t yet know. Our relationship was doomed to failure, but even as that knowledge weighed me down, I knew in my heart that—just like Bryce—I longed for something more between us.

My thoughts continued to tumble and flop like clothes in a dryer throughout dinner and even as the storm approached. It howled as darkness overtook us, growing in intensity with every passing hour. Rain and wind lashed the house, making it creak and shake. My aunt and I sat in the living room, neither one of us wanting to be alone. Just when I thought the storm couldn’t get any worse, we’d be slammed by another gust, and rain would pound so hard it sounded like firecrackers. The power, as predicted, went out and the living room went pitch black. We bundled up, knowing we had to get the generator started. As soon as Aunt Linda turned the knob, the door practically flew inward; the rain stung my face as we hurried down the steps, both of us gripping the railing so we wouldn’t blow away.

Beneath the house, the wind kept me unsteady on my feet, but at least we were out of the downpour. I watched my aunt struggle to get the generator started; I took over and was finally able to get it going on the third attempt. We fought our way back into the house, where Aunt Linda lit a bunch of candles and plugged in the refrigerator. The tiny flickers did little to illuminate the room.

I finally fell asleep on the sofa sometime after midnight. The storm continued to rage until just after dawn. While it was still windy, the rain eventually diminished to a drizzle before finally stopping midmorning. Only then did we step outside to survey the damage.

A tree on the neighbor’s property had toppled over, limbs scattered everywhere, and patches of shingles had been ripped from the roof. The road out front was under more than a foot of water. Neighboring docks had twisted or been torn away completely, the debris nearly reaching the house. The air was frigid, the wind positively arctic.

Bryce and his father showed up an hour before noon. By then, the wind was a whisper of what it had been. Aunt Linda brought out a bag of leftover biscuits while I started toward Bryce. As I walked, I tried to convince myself that my feelings from the day before were akin to a dream upon waking. They weren’t real; they were nothing but flickers and sparks fated to vanish completely. But when I saw him reach for the ladder in the bed of the truck, I thought again about the way he’d paused before me and knew I was only kidding myself.

His smile was as ready as ever. He was wearing the sexy olive jacket again and a baseball hat along with his jeans and the tool belt. I kind of felt like I was floating but did my best to appear nonchalant, like it was just another day for us.

“What did you think about the storm?” he asked.

“That was crazy last night.” It sounded like my words were coming from somewhere else. “How does the rest of the town look?”

He set the ladder on the ground. “There are a lot of toppled trees and there’s no power anywhere. Utility crews will hopefully get here this afternoon, but who knows? One of the motels and a couple of other businesses flooded, and half of the downtown buildings have roof damage. I guess the big thing was that one of the boats broke free and washed onto the road near the hotel.”

Because he seemed like his normal, casual self, I felt myself relaxing. “Was my aunt’s shop damaged?”

“Not that I saw,” he said. “We took down the plywood, but obviously we weren’t able to go inside to check for leaks.”

“And your house?”

“Just some downed limbs in the yard. Gwen and my grandparents were okay, too. But if you’re planning to try for some pictures today, watch for downed power lines. Especially in flooded spots. They can kill.”

I hadn’t thought about that, and visions of getting electrocuted made me shiver. “I’m just going to hang with my aunt, maybe do a little studying. But I’d still like to see the damage and maybe take some pictures.”

“How about I come by later and drive you around? I can grab some more film.”

“Will you have time?”

“Taking the boards down goes a lot faster than putting them up, and my grandpa already took care of the boat.”

When I agreed, he hoisted the ladder and carried it toward the porch. From there, Bryce and his father reversed the process from the day before; the only difference was that they used a caulk gun to fill in the screw holes. While they worked, my aunt and I began cleaning the debris from the yard, piling it near the street. We were still working when Bryce and his father backed down the drive.

With the yard done, Aunt Linda and I returned to the house, blinking at the light streaming through the windows. My aunt immediately went to the kitchen and started making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

“Bryce said the shop seemed okay,” I commented.

“His dad said the same thing, but I need to head over there in a little while to make sure.”

“I forgot to ask, but does the shop have a generator?”

She nodded. “It comes on automatically when the power goes out. Or it’s supposed to, anyway. That’s another thing I want to check on. People will want biscuits and books tomorrow, since there won’t be much in the way of cooking or anything to do until the power’s restored. It’ll be swamped until then.”

I thought about volunteering to help, but because I hadn’t had my biscuit-making lesson with Bryce yet, I figured I’d just slow her down. “Bryce is going to come by later,” I said. “We’re going to see what happened in the storm.”

She put the sandwiches on plates and brought them to the table. “Be careful of downed power lines.”

It seemed clear that everyone knew about this potential hazard but me. “We will.”

“I’m sure you’ll enjoy spending time with him.”

“We’re probably just going to take photographs.”

I’m pretty sure Aunt Linda noticed my deflection, but she didn’t press. Instead, she smiled.

“Then you’ll probably become an excellent photographer one day.”