“I think I came here to have a panic attack,” Mitch admitted, slowing down to readjust the blanket that draped over his shoulders like a cloak. They’d made it about a quarter of a mile down the shoreline, with Avi positioned between Mitch and the water. Up until then, neither had said a word.

“On purpose?”

“Wanted to try exposure therapy,” he huffed, his shoulders hunching and then releasing. It was meant to be banter, but it just came across as a cry for help.

“So you would have driven 2 hours to be alone on the beach and freaking out, in the freezing cold?”

“Sure, yeah. Then crabs would have eventually eaten me, I think. And that’d be it, nothing else to worry about.”

Avi chuckled fondly. “Glad you asked me to supervise.”

“Maybe I just wanted to spend the day with you,” Mitch half-joked, needing to reaffirm that he still possessed some agency after what transpired. Although giving it some thought, he wondered if that’s why he’d been compelled to extend the invitation. Years of being half or near dead, and his subconscious still worked tirelessly to try to save him from himself. But of all of the people to have as a chaperone.

“You know,” Avi cleared his throat, and he faced away from Mitch. “When I lived in Washington, I did something similar. Got really into trail running during a rough patch with Charlie, because being in the same space got hard for a while. The first time, I ended up in the woods and on a mountain without any sort of plan. Made it up to the summit, and there was no one else around. So I just…screamed. Letting it all out was the best that I’d felt in years.”

“So you don’t think I’m insane?”

“Oh no, you’re insane. But I get it. That’s all I wanted to say.”

In that moment, Mitch stared down at Avi’s empty hand and how it hung limply at his side. And for a fleeting instance, he considered taking it into his own, as a way of conveying that neither of them were alone and that the madness was mutual. He’d give a reassuring squeeze then let go, and that’d be the extent of it. But mention of Charlie’s name and the past tense used -things were bad, which meant that they were probably fine now- made him so acutely aware that it wasn’t his place for such measures of affection.

Another reminder that there was no need to stick the fork in the electrical socket again. Stay the course, he reminded himself, so he resisted the urge and did nothing.

They stopped to investigate a nearby tidal pool. The inhabitants weren’t anything exotic, mostly snails and algae, but Avi spotted a cobalt piece of sea glass. He took off one of his gloves, plucked it out of the shallow water, and held it up to the sun to get a better look.

“Oh, great find!” Mitch exclaimed. “I’ve never found one that color, it’s probably from an old medicine bottle. There’s a few factories in New England that made…” He trailed off, then worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “Am I rambling again? You can tell me to shut up, I won’t be offended.”

“You’re fine.” Avi lowered his hand and grinned at him, all soft and warm. “How do you know so much about sea glass?”

“Basil and I used to go hunting for it together when we’d come here, so I researched it to learn about where it all could have come from, and what it might be made out of. We only ever found green and white pieces, sometimes a brown one here and there. Those are all really common colors. But blue is supposed to be pretty rare.”

“Ah.” The piece of sea glass tumbled between Avi’s fingers, appearing as though it was dancing. Mitch stood mesmerized by this, then looked down at the ground when Avi closed his fist around it, feeling a little embarrassed for staring.

And then Avi’s hand entered his field of vision, catching him off guard.

“Uh…” Mitch looked up at him, unsure what he was supposed to do here.

“I think you should have it.” The seaglass reemerged between Avi’s thumb and forefinger, presented casually. But to Mitch, it may as well have been a precious gemstone. Thankfully, he caught himself before blurting out something ridiculous, like the ways which penguins proposed to one another with pretty rocks and the like.

“I couldn’t- you found it, it’s yours.” In a panic, Mitch shoved away Avi’s wrist.

Stay the course. Stay the course. Stay the course. This didn’t mean anything. Avi was nice, Avi was a friend, a good friend. A great friend. They weren’t penguins. It was just a piece of trash that the ocean wore down and vomited up, not too unlike what life had done to Mitch himself.

“It means more to you than to me,” Avi pointed out, but Mitch stayed firm. Shrugging, Avi wound his arm back the way that a pitcher would. “Alright then.”

“What’re you doing?”

“Throwing it back into the ocean. I’m not a ‘superfluous guy’, remember?” He had suspicious gleam in his eye, meaning he might be bluffing. Still, Mitch reacted.

“No!” The blanket fell off of Mitch’s shoulders as he latched onto Avi’s arm before it could be released. With a smirk, Avi handed the sea glass over, and Mitch graciously accepted both the defeat and his new prize. He stuffed it into his pocket and grumbled, “Thank you”.