Luckily, Holden is already all of those things. He’s quiet as he makes his way out of his house, pausing to stretch when he reaches me on the street. He eyes me questioningly when I don’t say anything. I usually talk enough to annoy him, and then he sets off at a brutal pace to shut me up. But this morning, I’m the one who tears off down the street the second he’s finished stretching, not making any conversation.
It feels good to run, to make my sides burn and my lungs ache. I’m tired of the constant gnawing sensation in my chest, the throbbing loneliness and jealousy when I see all the people around me finding what I want. I push myself harder, wanting to drown out the emotional pain with a physical one.
I hear Holden’s footsteps pounding on the asphalt behind mine, not quite keeping pace, but close enough for me to know he’s there. I need to run faster, to outpace my thoughts and my best friend, who is always able to see right through them.
Instead of turning toward town, I head in the opposite direction, toward the mountains. There’s no way I’ll be able to keep up like this, heading up the steep incline of the mountain roads, but I push myself anyway, thankful for the stinging behind my ribs, the soreness in my thighs.
It’s not until we’re surrounded by trees, the incline getting steeper, that my pace starts to flag. Until Holden catches up with me and passes me. We don’t usually run like this. We usually run side by side, occasionally making conversation but more often than not spending time in our own heads. But this run is different, and so I’m not surprised when Holden keeps going far past the time we would usually turn around, farther and farther up the hills.
I’m going to regret this run tomorrow, when I can’t walk, but I’m grateful for it today. It’s like I’m leaving all my messy thoughts and feelings back in town, and every step against the pavement takes me farther from them until my heart and mind finally start to feel clear, like clouds drifting out of the sky after the rain.
Holden makes a sharp turn off the road, disappearing down a path that weaves between the trees that I’ve never noticed before. It’s just big enough for a car, but I’m still surprised to see tire tracks in the hard dirt, deep grooves that must have been made on a rainy day, when the earth was damp.
I keep following him through the trees, and he’s far enough ahead now that I can’t see what he’s looking at when he comes to a stop. I’m panting when I reach him, but a gasp still rips out of me when I notice the view.
It’s an overlook. It’s like dozens of others lining this highway through the mountains, but this one is off the beaten path, tucked away from the eyes of prying tourists and visitors, like it’s a secret. And one I hope no one else discovers. It feels too special.
Holden is standing with his hands propped behind his head, right above the knot of his bun, breath heaving. His gaze slices in my direction. “You want to tell me what that was about?”
No.
Yes.
I don’t know.
I don’t know how to tell him what’s bothering me. That it’s hissister, and I’m in love with her but she never even thinks of me.
“Is this about Finley?” he asks.
I push off where I’m bent over my knees, standing up straight. “Why would you say that?”
He stares at me for a long moment, eyes so similar to Finley’s that it feels like I’m right back in the cab of my truck, once again being dissected by a Blankenship, unable to hide my thoughts.
“I know there’s always been something…” His hand circles in the air like he’s looking for the words. “Something between you two.”
I blink at him, uncomprehending. “What?”
His expression flattens, like he’s said something obvious and he’s annoyed that I need him to repeat it. When in actuality, I think I’m going insane, hearing things he never said.
“You guys are always,” he pauses, “like, at each other’s throats. There’s all this sexual tension between you.” He says this like itpains him. Then his eyes sharpen on me, looking horrified. “You guys don’t fool around, do you?”
A laugh barks out of me, still breathless. “No, most definitely not.” At least not when I’m awake.
“But you want to.” He says this so matter-of-factly that the laugh dies in my throat, choked off.
I can feel heat creeping up my chest, into my cheeks, like a sunburn. I was hot and sweating before, but now everything inside me burns, the way it does when I’m putting out fires.
“It’s not like that,” I say, but I can tell by the look on his face that we both know this isn’t true.
Holden shrugs, dropping his arms to his sides, and turns to face the wide expanse of mountains before us. I’m surprised we ran far enough to end up wherever this is, at least five miles outside of town. Getting back is going to be a bitch now that all the heated adrenaline has seeped out of me.
Keeping his eyes on the view, sunrise now fully cresting over the mountains, Holden says, “You could, you know.”
I tear my gaze off the hazy purple, orange, and pink sky.
“If there was something between you two, I wouldn’t want you to hold back on my account. She’s thirty-one. She doesn’t need me to play protective older brother anymore.”
I wonder if he remembers that first summer he came back from college, when he caught me staring at Finley one too many times, noticing the way she didn’t look like his little sister anymore, but like her own full-grown person. I know he has to remember calling me out on it—that’s when Finley heard me calling her annoying, after all. Overcompensating so that Holden didn’t suspect my feelings. But I wonder if he’s noticed it all along, if he’s been watching for the better part of fifteen years, or if I convinced him that I wasn’t interested as well as I seem to have convinced her.
