I woke up early this morning with Kira curled up in my arms.

Life doesn't get any better than that.

Last night, Kira, Deli and I made a large Christmas bed in the living room using some rubber wrestling mats and loads of pillows and duvets. We read the graphic novels Kicks, and I took from the library the other day, making voices and having fun.

It was pretty awesome, and things started to feel truly normal when they (and the cat) bullied me the way they always do when we're together.

When I woke up, the floor was covered in candy wrappers. I think Scamp had a ball wrestling them from the bowl we stuffed them in last night. I didn't care, I was enjoying just lying there with Kira snuggling me while I listened to her soft breathing... and then I had to pee.

That is the story of my life. Biological functions always get in the way when I'm at my happiest. I finally gave up on the idea of just sweating it out - it was kinda hot in the room, and the Kira blanket was very warm - and gently pried myself out of her grip to go to the bathroom.

When I got back, the girls were up, busy clearing up the debris of our fun evening of stuffing our faces and reading. The time for cuddles was clearly over. Bummer! I helped them get rid of the evidence of our debauchery, and when Kira went home, I hurried to my room to get ready for the big yacht race.

I'm really excited about it. Jet and Barn know their stuff. I always love going out on the water with them. Taking part in the race is even more fun because we get to be the pirates who chased the founding fathers into the bay. Jet and Barn would beat the other sailors by miles if we weren't doing that. They don't have much competition here. I always wonder who would win a real race between Barn and Jet. They often muck around when we take the boats out, but it's never clear who wins when they race.

Jet's grandfather taught both of them how to sail when they were only kids, and when he passed away, Jet inherited his grandfather's yacht. It's his most precious possession, and he always says that he's sailing away on it when he's done with school. He will live on the ocean, catching fish and growing his own veggies to survive.

If anybody could actually pull that off, it would be Jet. The guy reads the ocean the way most people read comic strips. He also has serious skills... and he is tenacious to the extreme.

When I'm showered and dressed, my eyes catch the two squares of wood lying on my desk, and I touch them to make sure the special glue I used to laminate the two images on them is finally completely dry.

The wall above Kira's bed is covered in a staggered mosaic of similar laminated images I made for her through the years. Some are photographs I took; some are her own weird nature close-ups I got my hands on.

She's going to love these two.

As with all the others, I've put the date and place on the back so she can remember when and where they were taken. I used the picture I took at the waterfall after the rugby match when I was lying on the rocks, looking at the canopy of leaves shimmering in various shades of green and sunlight above me. I like how well the image turned out when I printed it.

I got a lot of mud up my nose on Sunday, taking the other picture for her. It was a bit tricky to get the angle right and I had to lie on my stomach, but the result is exactly what I had in mind. Looking at the photograph, I feel like I'm part of the thick, cracked mud.

Was that really only a week ago?

Picking the mounted images up, I slide them into an old backpack and take them with me when I leave the room.

Uncle Joe is making scrambled eggs for himself and Kira when I enter the Crofts' kitchen.

"Hey, Uncle Joe," I say, closing the door behind me, flashing wary looks at the door leading into the hallway while I cross the floor to the kitchen table.

"Morning, buddy!" he smiles, and when he sees me acting suspicious and creepy, he chuckles softly. "Kira is in the garage, taking care of her critters."

I swear this man can read me like I'm covered in newsprint!

"Cool," I grin, unpacking the backpack onto the kitchen table. Seeing what I'm doing, he turns off the stove and joins me, placing the pan on a potholder on the table.

"Wow! She's going to love these!" he smiles, picking up one of the mounted images and then the other to study them. "You have a good eye, Ethe. These are stunning."

"Thanks. Would you mind putting them up for her when you get a chance? Please?"

"Sure," he smiles, putting them back in the backpack. "I'll hide this in my study for now."

It's become a tradition. I bring the laminated images to Uncle Joe, and he finds a sneaky moment to put them up, leaving it for Kira to discover as a surprise. She loves it. I always get a heartfelt thank you from her when it happens.

It's been a while since the last one.

I kept my distance for much too long when I thought she was dating Liam, and I fell off the treadmill with Amber and went down a weird lane with Harmony. During that time, I didn't create any laminated images for her.

"Are you working today?" I ask, fetching the bread from the toaster when it pops up, and carefully put two slices on both plates on the table.

"Nope. The project was completed successfully a couple of hours ago," he smiles triumphantly, and I can see the shadows under his eyes, telling the tale of many sleepless nights. "We have some reports and other paperwork to finalise on Monday, but for now, I'm off duty. I'll get to watch the race."

That is great news. He deserves a break. My dad and Uncle Joe sometimes join us on the yachts for the race. This year, Uncle Joe wasn't sure if his project would be done in time, and Dad said he was getting too old for our BS. We occasionally cause him - and each other - to fall overboard a few times while we're being fierce pirates.

"Awesome! I'm glad your project went well."

"Thanks, you and me both, buddy," he smiles, watching me butter the toast for them.

"Want some eggs?" he offers, scooping eggs onto one of the two plates ready for breakfast. Uncle Joe's scrambled eggs are the best, and I'm hungry, but my mom was making breakfast when I left the house and told me to hurry.

"Thanks, but Mom's waiting for me to come to breakfast. She wants to lecture me about the dangers of being a pirate and beg me to become an upstanding founding father instead... like she does every year." I give the eggs and toast a last longing look and step away from the table. "I'll see you later then."

"Really," he laughs, impressed by my self-control, and then he hands me one of the toast slices, topped with fluffy eggs and grated cheese. "You can take it to go."

"Thanks! I knew there was a good reason why I picked you as my father-in-law," I grin. Yup, it's not just because he happens to be the dad of the love of my life.

Happily munching on my prize, I hurry home. The sooner we get breakfast out of the way, the sooner we can go to the beach and get our yachts ready for the race.

I am once again excited about my favourite weekend of the year.

♂

It would've been unbearably hot on the beach today, if there wasn't a fresh breeze blowing just right for yacht racing. It is much cooler out here on the water. I feel sorry for the people gathered on the bleachers watching the race in this heat.

I think those seated on the balconies of buildings bordering the beach area are much more comfortable. Kira is somewhere in the sea of faces, cheering the yachts on from the beach. I wish I could bring her out here with me. This is where the real fun is.

She likes coming along when we're all just taking a calm trip along the shore or out to sea and back. The race is exhilarating and a little scary at times... which is probably why she and Deli flatly refuse to join us.

Wendy has joined us once for the race, but she's been MIA since yesterday afternoon. Burlap said she's not talking, which never means anything good, though she assured him that she was fine.

He will check on her later, but for now, he is one of Barn's faithful crew members. I like it when Burlap and I are on the same crew, but since this is Simon's first time and Delia ordered me to look out for him, we decided to put him on Jet's crew with me. Burlap and Lurch are Barn's crew today.

So far, I'm having a blast with Sy here. I wonder if my sister knows that her boyfriend is a closet hooligan. He is usually so calm and peaceful, but here on this yacht, with Jet steering the vessel through some nifty turns and manoeuvres, the guy is beside himself with excitement. He is begging Jet for more and more wild action. Our skipper laughs, enjoying Simon's encouragement and enthusiasm.

I think Sy might secretly be an adrenaline junkie.

The cold, blue water of the bay vibrates with life as colourfully decorated boats weave within the safe areas mapped with buoys. The clear sky and brisk wind make it the perfect day to have the yearly race. The sailors participating as founders race along the set route, circling back and forth within the bay. When they've done each section five times, they get to head straight for the rocky neck of the cove leading to the beach. The winner is the first yacht to enter the 'gate'.

Our job is to make the race more fun and get in the way of other sailors. We're the pirates who chased the Egret into the storm that caused it to run on the rocks, leading to the discovery of the bay that is now our home. To ensure that the history is not reenacted too accurately, ships are prevented from running onto any rocks by wide, clearly mapped routes guiding their way through danger.

It is still dangerous, and only experienced sailors who know the Bay area take part in the race. Their crews are generally made up of anybody crazy enough to play along. The Coast Guard is on standby for emergencies.

Technically, Jet and Barn's job is the most risky. They have to be a nuisance without being a hazard. Sometimes, the line between the two becomes blurry, but they practice all year for this. Sometimes with a crew and sometimes without one. I love helping either of them practice.

Jet's yacht is an extension of his very being and Barn knows the yacht made available to him by the yachting club where he works part-time very well. He calls it a beauty that handles like a dream and I'll take his word for it. One day, he wants to buy it from the club or buy one just like it.

The only thing I know about sailing is saying: Aye-aye, Captain and doing whatever he tells me to do. I also know about leaning against the railing, being a counterweight when the yacht is being turned sharply and tilts over.

I also know to stay out of the way of the boom or get knocked on my arse by the bottom beam of the sail. I'm happily sharing my superior knowledge with Sy and he laps it up, eager to learn the ropes... quite literally when we have to tighten or loosen some on Jet's orders.

The pirate job is not easy, and it would've been more dangerous if it had been done by sailors less skilled than Barn and Jet. They calculate everything to within a fraction of a second to avoid collisions or running over one of us when we fall in.

They know the bay so well. If asked to sketch the bay's waters, I think they could do it perfectly right down to the last pebble. They live out here.

I smile, looking at Jet steering his ship, his sun-streaked hair sticking out from under his captain's hat. The only time I ever see that expression of pure life joy on his face is when we're out here harnessing the breeze. He doesn't even look this happy when we're surfing big waves.

Jet's boat is a sleek, light sailing yacht with a cabin below deck. It is as fast as it is strong. It might not be the most modern vessel, but it is a thing of beauty, and Jet takes care of the Sailin' Jetster as if it is alive. It used to be called the Sailin' Jester, but before his death, his grandfather transferred its registration to Jet and renamed it to fit his grandson.

The only thing that kept Jet from falling apart last year when the man he loved more than he loves his father died was setting sail on this boat. After the funeral, he spent a week sailing around, refusing to come home. The Coast Guard finally forcibly returned him to Egret's Rest.

He was dehydrated and ill. It was a frightening time.

Jet comes alive the minute he steers his boat out of the harbour. I get why he wants to sail off at the end of the school year. When he's at the helm of the Sailin' Jetster, it's as if the weight of life lifts off his chest, and he is finally able to breathe.

For a while, he stops being obnoxious and self-destructive. Instead, he laughs a happy laugh. Sometimes, he even breaks into song... which is a bit disturbing since it's always raunchy songs. That's probably not so weird. He is Jet, after all. Still, when he is out here, something else happens too.

Jet becomes responsible!

He never takes impossible risks. He never does anything that would harm his crew or others using the water. He loves this yacht more than he loves himself and would never jeopardise it. That is why he is one of the perfect candidates to be a pirate during the Founders' Day festivals.

Barn is as responsible on deck as he is off it.

Out here, I never question Barn or Jet's authority. I obey every order the moment they give it. Even if it is an order that causes us to fall back and let the yacht containing some guys from St Albany's rugby team slide past.

They're yelling insults at us, generally picking a fight for our next match against them. I can see Marshall Gibbs standing cockily near the side of the vessel, giving me the finger.

It's ridiculous!

He knows we're not racing them, and Jet wouldn't actually collide with them. We're not allowed to be real pirates and board them and steal their ship. That rule has been drilled into us and hasn't changed, no matter how often we point out that it would make the whole pirate thing more authentic. So, it's all pretend, and he knows it. Still, he is acting as if they are beating us every time our yacht crosses their path, and we let them go.

Idiot.

Most people laugh and shout insults when we finally let them pass us, but it is all in good fun. That irritating bastard just shouted something about me, Kira and my sister that I didn't really understand. It seemed to hint at incest and perversity, though. I choke back my anger, grinding my teeth. Next time I see him on dry land, I'm knocking his teeth into the back of his head, and he can spit them out while he apologises.

"Right!" Simon suddenly bellows beside me. "I'm done with his shit!"

"What?" I turn to look at him, and he is already wrapping his hands around the pole part of the telescopic docking hook.

"I'm going to shove this long stick thing up his arse and take out his tonsils with the hook part!" he tells me quite seriously, and I believe him. "You can hit the others with the anchor... or something. We can take them, Ethe!"

Who the hell is this guy with the wild brown hair and fierce green eyes getting ready to put his words into action?

"Dude!" I say, wrapping an arm around his neck to stop him from trying to leap from our deck to the enemy ship and probably end up in the water and run over. There are times to fall overboard and times we really shouldn't. Now is definitely a shouldn't moment. "Relax! We'll get him after the race, okay, buddy? You can bring the boat hook if you want to."

I feel the tension leaving Simon's body, but his eyes are still on fire when he looks from me to Jet, who is gaping at him from the helm.

"Don't you ever just want to race and win this thing?" Simon asks Jet when I let him go. He waves his arms at the yachts passing us while Barn brings his boat alongside ours. This happens every now and then. The two captains regroup and decide what to do next before we separate for some more interfering fun, passing yachts and circling back.

"Yeah," Jet says, grinning now.

"Isn't this probably the last year you will all be here to take part in this race?" Simon asks, narrowing his eyes and giving Jet a meaningful look. I can see a switch flip in my friend's head. The gears are starting to turn in there. He's been talking about this being the last year for so many things for months now. Simon heard him many times.

"Yes," Jet says, his smile widening, and now he looks pretty evil and dangerous, like a real bloodthirsty pirate. I wonder - not for the first time - if part of his life at sea plan includes robbing other sailors.

He turns his ice-green eyes on me, and they are sparkling with mischief and longing. I'm not surprised to feel a smile spreading on my face as my heart races with anticipation. "Fletcher?"

"Well," I say, trying to look serious, but I don't think it's working. "You heard Mr. Pravin's story this morning. We can't make a liar out of him. Hell, yeah!" I finally laugh. "I'm in!"

"Yes!" Jet and Simon shout in unison, and then Jet speaks to Barn using hand signs and some shouted words. I'm not sure; he could be telling him that he wants to go apple picking wearing a tutu, or he is describing the width, height and shape of his favourite surfboard. When those two are out here, they communicate in a language consisting of signs and phrases that mean absolutely diddly squat to me.

Actually, they communicate like that on dry land too.

I look across the water where Lurch and Burlap seem as confused as I am, and then Barn's teeth are white and bright in his wide smile, and he bellows a happy laugh followed by a loud howl up at the sky.

Okay, I get it now!

Jet told Barn that it's time for them to come out to us as werewolves, and we're about to become their meal.

"Let's go!" Barn yells and I understood those words very well. I also understand the orders he is shouting at Burlap and Lurch. They get what this means, as we're only told to do those things when Barn and Jet are about to race each other.

Jet is echoing Barn's orders, and soon, I can feel the deck shudder beneath my feet as the sail snaps loudly above us, filling with the wind. The bow lifts from the water, and off we go!

I've always wondered who would win when Barn and Jet decide to race each other in an actual race. As our yachts zip past the others, gradually catching up with the forerunners of this race, I'm happy to know that I will find out today.

This is just perfect!

I'm standing on the deck Kira, and I helped decorate earlier, and I'm wearing the cool pirate get-up my sister surprised us with. Our team has wine-red headbands and sashes around our hips, while Barn's team is wearing dark green.

Looking their way, I can see Burlap laughing, mirroring my excitement. His red hair forms an awesome contrast with his green headband, making it look like his head is on fire.

Today, these fierce, brave, terrifying... and seriously manly pirates will show the founders of this bay how it's done. I repeat! We're MANLY, fierce, brave and terrifying. I have to repeat it because Kira called us cute.

Cute! For crying in a bucket! I'll show her cute later when I get her alone. I'll even wear this uniform for it. Hehe!

Thinking about her, I touch the stone necklace embracing my throat and smile, remembering how she saw me off with a hug and a quick, chaste kiss on the lips. She did it in full view of the crowds containing our parents. My heart nearly burst, and I could tell by the looks on our parents's faces that they understood how much that meant to me.

My dad gave me a grin and a head nod, and my mom toyed with her necklace, an emotional smile touching her lips. Uncle Joe just blinked and tilted his head, his eyes wide with surprise, and then he pretended to be somewhere else. Yes, that was not the kind of thing anybody would expect from Kicks.

I was in heaven.

I glance at Simon with his transparent black eye patch and scary grin and cannot help but laugh. Who knew that some sailing action and careless insults about my sister would wake the beast in him? He shouts encouragement at Jet and eagerly rushes back and forth with me to do his bidding.

The couple of yachts in the front have completed the three sections with figure eight and circles set out for the race the required number of times and are starting to head for the entrance into the bay; the distance between them and the slower sailors is gradually growing.

Technically, we have run each section of the course more times than is required since we circled back to the start multiple times to give the yachts in the back some fun, too. We usually concentrate most of our pestering on the yachts in the lead, but we don't want the others to miss out on the excitement of being harassed. If we'd been racing seriously from the start, we would probably already be done by now or way out front, at the very least.

Some of the stronger sailors try to get in our way when they realise we are not messing with them but are heading for the cove. They soon give up because there's no way anybody will be able to outmanoeuvre Jet or Barn.

Our yachts remain in sync for most of our chase from the back to the front. I have to reel Simon in when we cut past the St. Albany yacht, and he gets ready to launch the boat hook at them like a harpoon. Still, seeing their slack-jawed reaction and hearing their yowls of outrage when we leave them in our spray is priceless.

Soon, we've out-stripped all the yachts taking part in the race, and now Jet and Barn are no longer messing around. They are sharply focussed, leaving the insults and threatening gestures to their crew while we cheer them on and follow their orders. The narrow entrance to the cove is looming closer and closer, and the two yachts remain together, as I've always seen happen when we're out on the water.

At this rate, the winner could be either of them.

Barn possesses something that Jet doesn't. It is called common sense. As responsible and careful as Jet is out here on his yacht, he is still Jet, the boy who never does anything half-heartedly. The guy who never gives up. The bastard, who can be a royal bratty pain in my butt every chance he gets without getting tired of it. The little boy who fell his face bloody and lost some of his baby teeth in the process, but still wouldn't quit trying the difficult skateboarding trick until he got it.

It's no surprise that he is the one who manages to spur his yacht faster by heeling it, using the wind to slide it tilted almost completely on its side, with Sy and me leaning on the turned-up side, stopping it from capsizing. He shouts some last-minute orders at us, throwing the yacht into a sudden tight turn that slices it through the finish line and into the curve of the victory lap inside the cove.

Barn cautiously slowed down just enough to navigate the entry like a normal person, which allowed the Sailin' Jetster to pull away and take the lead.

To be fair, Jet has always had just a tad more saltwater in his veins than Barn. Still, it was really close. The Sailin' Jetster beats Lady Blue by a little more than half a boat length, but both captains and crews are celebrating equally hard.

That was friggin' awesome! They are amazing sailors!

I meet Jet's eyes when he finishes the victory round and is getting ready to have us tie the boat to one of the many temporary mooring buoys set up in the cove. The smile on his face breaks my heart.

He always thinks about his grandfather when he's out on the water. He once told me that he could hear his voice clearly while sailing. He hears him telling him stories about his years in the Navy and instructing him on handling the wheel. I can only imagine how loudly he heard his voice while racing his heart out just now.

We leap from the boat and wade to shore, surprised to find a massive crowd jumping up and down excitedly, congratulating us and Barn and his crew. Burlap finds me in knee-deep water and wraps his arms around me in a wet, saltwater hug. I can see that he is as rattled and excited as I am.

Give us another minute, and the six of us will be clinging to each other, bawling our eyes out. For now, we're still being manly, slapping each other's backs and dishing out fist bumps and bro hugs.

If this really turns out to be our last year taking part in the Founder's Day race, it was truly a race worthy of being the race that ends all races... for us.

When we leave the water, the crowd parts for us, clapping their hands and laughing, happy about the entertainment we'd provided. I see a ripple of movement to my left as people move out of the way, and my heart leaps when Delia and Kira burst into view.

I'm vaguely aware of Delia sprinting past me to jump into Simon's arms as we run towards the girls, and then I reach Kira. Without a second thought, I grab her and toss her into the air to catch her in my arms, hugging her tightly to my heart. She shrieks, wrapping her arms around my neck when I twirl.

I stop, pulling away slightly so I can see her face, and she smiles at me with eyes the brightest green I've ever seen. I think Deli is wrong; Kicks' eyes aren't only green when she's angry. I think they're green when she's happy or excited too.

She may not always be angry when she looks at me after all.

My heart flooding with love, I lower my face to hers and rub the tip of my nose against hers. Giggling, she tightens her arms around my neck and pulls me even closer until her soft lips are trembling against mine.

There is no need for her to invite me twice. The crowds have disappeared somewhere in a background murmur, drowning in the salty taste of the ocean I'm transferring from my lips to Kira's as I deepen our kiss.

She doesn't pull away. I think, like me, she'd forgotten about the crowd around us and the possibility that our parents could see us. She is kissing me back with all her heart and this time, there is nothing chaste about it.

Yes, this was definitely the race to end all races for me... and I'm pretty sure I won.

♂♀