He says something, but the rushing water drowns it out as I creep closer and closer to the waterfall’s edge. Unless you’re standing directly at the entrance, it’s almost impossible to seethat there’s a cave hidden just behind the falls, and I relish slipping inside the entrance.
Granted, it’s not a full-blown cave but rather more of a rock shelter about eight feet high. Apart from the enclosed entrance, there’s no external wall, leaving a solid, rushing sheet of river water as the only barrier to the outside. Sunlight still bathes the space, but it’s substantially darker, making it virtually impossible to see from the outside. It’s the perfect hiding place.
The constant, cold sheet of river water also shields this little hidey hole from the sweltering heat and humidity. Plus, I’ve equipped it with a few additional perks.
Heading to the deepest corner, I fish out the camping gear from behind a section of rock that I may have taken out of my basement. Figured someone could still get use out of it. My dad bought a boatload of things a couple of years ago for when he went with his buddies out into the wilderness for a weekend, only to return, vowing he’d never do it again. Everything’s been collecting dust since. Well, except for the few survival protective containers meant to storeactualfood that now house candy.
With some in hand, I take a seat on a dry slab of rock just outside the “splash zone” but close enough that tiny flecks of water can still pepper my bare feet when I extend my legs. Jase, on the other hand, isn’t so quick to join me.
No, he’s too busy gawking, exploring every nook and cranny. “Who else knows about this place?”
I shrug. “If anyone does, we’ve never crossed paths. And nobody’s pilfered my Skittles collection yet, so…”
I’ve evidently jinxed it, because Jase does just that, taking the bag from my hands to pour himself a few.
“And how, pray tell,” he says, finally sitting beside me, “didyoucome across this?”
“My mom,” I admit. “She actually found it with some friends during her Senior Year of high school. I couldn’t have been morethan five when she told me about it, so I was too young to make the climb, but she still promised to take me here when I was old enough.”
That obviously didn’t happen, but I never forgot.
“The summer after my dad married Blythe, my brother and sister both had programs for football and ballet, so I found myself alone most of the time. And since I had a feeling my new stepmom didn’t like me very much, I didn’t want to be home. I’ve been coming here at least a few times a week every summer since then. It may not be Italy,” I concede, “but it’s not too bad of an alternative, all things considered.”
He smiles, but something else flickers in his expression. “Still bummed about not going on the trip?”
“If I had to choose again between being here or seeing the Trevi Fountain while Sienna tried to drown me in it, I think I made the right call.” I knock my knee with his. “And the company’s not too bad either.”
Jase chuckles, the action bringing his dimples to the surface. “‘Nottoobad?’ Awww, shucks, Birdie. You’re gonna make me blush.”
I snatch back my Skittles, giving him a playful shove, but freeze when his hand captures mine.
Jase interlocks our fingers, and though the humor fades from his expression, his smile stays right where it is. The look is equal parts comforting and heartstopping, because he’s never stared at me like this before. I’m only left to reel further at the two simple words he all but whispers.
“Thank you.”
“For what?” I’m surprised and relieved that my voice comes out as steady as it does, but I still clearly sound confused.
He runs the padding of his thumb gently over the back of my hand, his gaze not leaving mine. “For trusting me enough to be a part of this.”
The fact he understands what this means to me, the fact he knows this isn’t just another teenage hiding place to come drink beer and hook up…
“My mom had this Celtic love knot on a silver necklace that her grandmother gave her, and after she passed away, I started wearing it. Anytime someone in my family saw it, they’d get uncomfortable and weirded out, but I didn’t care,” I say. “I had it on everywhere I went and always hung it up on this picture frame beside my bed every night. And then one morning I woke up and it was gone. Everyone just told me I must have misplaced it and that it would eventually turn up, but it never did. I knew I hadn’t lost it, and I went through all of my mom’s belongings in the basement, hoping whoever took the necklace put it away down there, but I still couldn’t find it.
“And after Blythe entered the picture, everything else around the house that belonged to my mom slowly got removed and shoved into another box in the basement. By the time everything was said and done, there wasn’t a single trace of evidence that my mom had ever stepped foot in the house, any memory snuffed out. It felt like losing her a second time,” I admit, drawing the symbol of the love knot with the tip of my shoe across the section of the ground that has a fine layer of dirt. “But being here, I feel closer to her again, like it’s a beach and it’s only her footprints in the sand. As long as no one else knows, they can’t trample in and wipe away her memory.”
Whenever the subject of my mother comes up, everyone’s quick to change the topic, as if the very mention of her will not only tear off the bandages but also reopen the wound. Hell, I’m not even sure if it healed in the first place—not for any of us. But it’s the cardinal rule in my house.
Avoidance.
At first, nobody wanted to risk upsetting someone else by bringing her up, but after so long, it just became expected ofus to have moved on. But we never really got a chance to truly mourn her.
So, it comes as no surprise that I anticipate Jase acting like everyone else would. I wait for the awkward silence, followed by fidgeting and an attempt at small talk about something stupid like the weather.
But an arm falls over my shoulder, pulling me up against the side of Jase’s chest. “What was your favorite thing about her?”
The back of my eyes burn, but I don’t fend it off. I don’t need to hide. And the realization may as well be an invisible five-hundred-pound weight lifting off my chest.
“No matter how busy everyone was, no matter how many things she had on her plate, she somehow always made time for each of us.” Even as the first tear falls, I laugh. “Do you remember the field trip in kindergarten when our class went to the zoo?”
