on their second round of Yuengling by now . I, on the other hand, was stalling. It was just me and the old life jackets and broken kayak paddles. The change house stunk of old pile fleece and foot fungus. When I started working on the river my senior year of high school, the job felt like the best thing in the world. So far this spring it just felt like work. Definitely not worth dropping out of college for. I hung my life jacket and helmet and spray jacket to let them air out.
My Jeep was parked on the other side of the playground, but even through the swing set and monkey bars I could see a blond wearing cowboy boots sitting on my bumper fooling with her phone. Girls love raft guides like rabbits love clover, and that didn’t make her much different than any of the others. But she wasn’t any other. And the minute I saw her I knew I was in trouble.
On the way to my Jeep I put my head down and tried to think of what I could say to justify what I did to her this winter.
“Henry,” she said as I got within earshot. She put her phone away and walked past the sliding board, still covered with last fall’s leaves. “For a second I was starting to freak out. Like, maybe—”
“Holy shit, Alex.” Those weren’t the exact words I meant to use even if the sentiment was precise. Her hair was longer—it fell halfway down her back and was much lighter than I remembered, probably from laying out. She already had a hint of suntan starting. Like she was spending more time partying at Blue Hole than she was spending in class.
The scent of her Chanel took me straight back to this winter in their apartment, the one she used to share with Jane. What really bugged me more than anything was the idea that if she could find me anybody could. Like playing hide-and-seek in too small a house.
“Well, hello to you, too.” She put her phone into her purse and folded her arms.
She’d been crying. “Sorry. I didn’t know nobody was supposed to find you.”
She forced a smile and unbuttoned her jacket. From the first time I’d met her she’d been engaged in a series of minor struggles with inanimate things she could never beat: her phone, her purse, her hair. So much so, that fidgeting became as much a part of who she was as her voice or her name.
“Facebook gave you up, if you really want to know,” she said. “A bunch of Phi Delts were on a rafting trip last weekend. Saw you in a picture. Probably should’ve called you first. Too late now, right?”
She had on jeans and a short little jacket that left a little bit of skin around her waist exposed. I made sure I didn’t get caught looking. Her blue eyes weren’t as soft or round as I remembered. Like she was tired or on alert. And she was wearing her cowboy boots. Which made me smile.
We strolled back toward my old Jeep. My dad thought it was stupid to buy a vehicle I couldn’t haul a load of firewood in, which was precisely why I loved it. I said, “It’s fine that you’re here,” and tried to change the tone of my voice to assure her that it really was fine. “I don’t know what the hell I’m even hiding from anymore.”
She put her hands into her back pockets and shrugged. After an awkward pause, I said, “How are you?”
Her blue eyes looked for answers from someplace far beyond this little side street. “Everything is different. This semester…it wasn’t the easiest. I didn’t finish. All the big plans I made for this summer and I couldn’t even drag myself out of bed after you left.”
“Alex.” I tried to touch her elbow. “Sorry for that. Getting close seemed like a really dumb idea at the time.”
“Like it’s your fault? You were a distraction, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Now, leaving the way you did, like some kind of creeper while I was in class? That makes you an asshole.” She pulled away from my touch. Her expression remained the same, like waving a surrender flag for the last five months had finally taken its toll on her.
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley