“I thought you said this was a two-mile hike,” I say to Tina. Then I add, “Roundtrip.”
“I might have underestimated just a little,” she says.
“We’ve covered at least two miles and we’re not even at the top yet. How much further?”
“We still have another mile,” Ryan answers for her.
“Another mile?” I exclaim. “That’s three miles one way, Tina. Which makes this three times as long as you said it would be.” She looks back and sticks her tongue out at me. I laugh. “You know, this is the second time today that you’ve lied about how long it would take to get somewhere. I don’t know if I can trust you anymore.”
“Stop complaining. The trail is shorter if you walk faster,” she says.
“That doesn’t make any sense. A mile is a mile no matter how fast you hike.” I look back at Oliver, who’s right behind me. “You’ve done this trail before. You couldn’t have told me it wasn’t as short as Tina said?”
He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s been years since I hiked this mountain. I honestly don’t remember it being this long.”
There aren’t any more spots quite like the one that had me crawling up what felt like the side of a mountain, but it’s all uphill and by the time we make it to the summit, my legs are burning.
“Check out that view,” Tina says. “Was it worth it?”
I step up to the edge of the cliff. The view takes my breath away. I look out at the tree-covered hills below us and the mountain ranges in the distance. There’s a lake in the middle, no roads or civilization in sight. Birds fly from one tree to another, chirping and filling the valley with echoes of their songs.
“Wow. This is amazing.”
“Worth it?” she asks again.
“So worth it.”
While I’m standing there enjoying the view, I feel a hand snaking around the back of my waist and holding onto my hip. I look down, then up at Oliver. He keeps his arm around me, smiling and looking out at the scenery in front of us. I lean my head against his shoulder, allowing myself to relax into him.
“My legs are like jelly,” I tell him. “You guys are going to need to leave me behind.”
“Sit down on the bench,” he says.
“What bench?”
He gestures behind us. I look back, and for the first time I notice an old wooden bench a few feet behind us. The wood is aged and weathered, but it looks sturdy and solid. I leave Tina and Ryan at the edge of the cliff and I head over to the bench. Oliver sits down next to me.
“Ryan’s grandfather built that bench,” Tina says, looking over her shoulder at us.
I look down at the weathered wood. I trace a pair of etched initials with my fingertips. “How many people hike out here?” I ask, feeling the R and T with my index finger. “Are these your initials?”
Tina and Ryan exchange a look, and then they both laugh. “Ryan andTiffany,” she says.
“Oh.” I pull my hand off the initials like I’m doing something wrong. “Different girlfriend?”
“Tiffany was Ryan’s dog,” Oliver says.
I frown. “Wait. What?”
When I realize that he’s serious, I burst out laughing too, and then all four of us are laughing. The sound echoes throughout the valley below us.
I look at Ryan when I finally calm down. “You wrote your dog’s initial on a wooden bench?”
“She was a really good dog, okay?” he says defensively.
Oliver nods. “She was a good dog.”
“I thought he was lying the first time I saw those initials on that bench,” Tina says. “I didn’t believe him until he took me back to his family’s home and showed me a picture of a golden retriever with the name Tiffany on her tag.”
