“You know, the first time I offered you a ride,” I muse, “I considered whether you were an axe murderer. This is the perfect opportunity.”
He turns just enough for me to see the flash of his teeth as he smiles. “Damn. I was hoping you wouldn’t catch on this quickly.”
“You’ve been playing the long game, haven’t you?”
“You got me.”
He chooses this moment to veer off of the trail. The trees are farther apart here, so theoretically there’s more room to step in between them, but still I blanch. Noah’s five steps ahead of me when he realizes I haven’t moved. He turns and reaches toward me. “It’s okay, Sadie. I know where I’m going.”
I take his hand. He squeezes once and then holds on, drawing me deeper into the leaves and shadows. I focus on the warmth of his palm instead of the childhood memories of Animal Planet that flash unwanted in my mind. Don’t rattlesnakes live in Texas? Spiders do—I’m sure of that. Is it true that everything’s bigger in Texas? Does that apply to venomous bloodsucking insects, too? I gasp at a sliding, rustling sound in the bush to my left.
See, I’ve always been an admirer of nature—from a distance. I regularly run on carefully paved trails in perfectly groomed parks, and I enjoy vacationing in a cabin in the woods from time to time. But I’m usually the one sitting on the deck sipping a glass of spiked cocoa instead of bushwhacking my way through uncharted wilderness.
So maybe a small park a few miles from Liam’s house isn’tuncharted wilderness,but close enough.
“I’m not making a very good first-date impression, am I?” Noah’s tone is amused. He takes each step with slow assurance, as if to prove to me the safety of our exploration. I’m careful to step only in places where I can see the imprints left behind by his sandals.
“I just think you might be confusing me with Jaylie.” She might prefer the comforts of the city as I do, but she’s braver than I am. I try to tap into that, picturing our trek as the start of a quest.
Surely Marlana would smile down on my adventurousness.
“We’re almost there.”
At the sound of flowing water, I start to relax, and curiosity wins out over fear. The trees part to reveal what can only be described as a hidden gem. Gently the earth slopes downward, growing rockier until it dissolves into sand leading into a clear stream. The water trickles by unhurriedly, and though it’s deep in spots, I can almost see to the bottom. It’s the perfect swimming hole. I look around, expecting a family to come bursting out of the bushes to picnic, or high schoolers to swing wildly from the branches and jump in, but it’s quiet. Empty. As far as I look, I can’t see anything but trees and water and glimpses of blue sky through the leaves.
As Noah watches my eyes go soft, his face breaks into a smile. “You like it.” It’s not a question.
“It’s lovely.”
“One more thing.” He tugs at my hand again—he hasn’t let go,I think distantly—and leads me away from the stream. We’re climbing again, and he’s pulling me up steep rocks along a winding path until we’re on a ledge overlooking the water. One tree leans dangerously over the ridge, as if peeking into the stream below. I can see half of its root system, old and gnarled, shooting out from the earth to either curl back into the rocky foundation or dangle like wind chimes in the air above the water.
We stop at the base of the tree, and Noah gives it a friendly, welcoming pat. Briefly I worry that it’s just enough of a push tosend the old thing tumbling into the water, but it stays strong. Noah shrugs off his backpack and begins pulling all sorts of shit out of it—a blanket, one water jug, a glass bottle full of a mystery amber-colored liquid, containers of fruit, a towel (suspicious), pencils, a sketchbook—as if it’s a goddamn Bag of Holding. He must be a packing pro.
I shrug out of my sunflower shirt and toe off my sandals, moving to sit in the center of the newly spread-out blanket. “You’re good at this, aren’t you?”
“Good at what? First dates?”
I grin. “Hiking, backpacking. You look like you know what you’re doing.”
“Oh, this isn’t anything like backpacking,” he says with a laugh, “but yes. This…” He spreads his arms wide, encompassing every tree and leaf and rock that surrounds us. “This is my favorite thing in the world. I’m always outside.”
“Really?” I say, surprised. With sweat already running down my back and pooling under my boobs, I can’t help but ask why. “You’re so outgoing. Sosocial.Doesn’t it get lonely out here, with just the birds and the bugs?” I imagine him alone in his camper van, driving off into the horizon.
But his smile is sweet, and he looks all too eager to let me in on his secret. “I think I’d go crazy without a hobby like this to help me recharge. Every day, I wake up full of all this pent-up energy.” He clenches his fists as if wrestling an invisible pickle jar. “But when I’m on my bike, or on a walk, it’s just…” His fingers release the jar and flutter off into the air. For the first time since I’ve known him, he’s at a loss for words—opening and closing his mouth, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully…and then shaking his head. “I don’t know how to describe how it feels to me. Here. It would be easier to show you. Stand up. Close your eyes, Sadie.”
I let Noah pull me to my feet, and my eyelids flutter closed. Standing behind me with his palms on my shoulders, he guidesme forward until the soft blanket under my bare feet gives way to warm dirt and hard roots. With a squeeze of my shoulders, Noah holds me back before I can walk off the ledge.
“Listen.” His voice is warm against my neck. His beard tickles my skin.
It takes a while for my thoughts to fade into the background, for my breathing to even out. The first sound I hear is of course the water, tinkling its way around rocks as it winds its way out to Lake Travis. The birds are next. Every few heartbeats one will call out a few ringing, harmonic notes—and just when it’s quiet again, another will answer. But it’s the wind that really grounds me. It’s like the air is breathing. On an inhale, the breeze cools the sweat on my forehead and threads its way through my hair. On an exhale, every leaf stirs, whispering against one another in one greatshhh.
Noah begins to run his palms down my arms with an aching, gentle slowness. I keep my eyes closed, which sets my other senses on high alert. Grounded by his touch, the music through the trees, and the clear smell of everything green, I feel as if we are the only two people who exist.
Noah steps away to stand by my side. His big hand circles my wrist easily. I exhale one more time then open my eyes to look at him.
He’s discarded his shirt next to his backpack, but before I can fully process this wonderful new development, his gaze captures mine forcefully. There’s a wildness in his eyes, and they spark like wildfire. “Can you swim?”
My usual internal alarms feel numbed. In this space, I’m untouchable. Bold. I can do anything I want to.
