She nods. “But I never get to do it for fun anymore. I used to hike all the time, but I don’t know the last time I went out for fun.”
“Then let’s go for a hike.”
“Ithoughtyouwerein better shape than this,” I tell Jack midway through our hike up The Mountain. There’s a fire tower known only to the locals with the best views around. It’s a popular hangout for troublemaking teens, but on the weekdays there’s never anyone there. It’s my favorite place to get away when I need to think or justexistsomewhere.
“I thought you said this was an easy hike,” Jack huffs, his breath coming in short bursts. He’s holding his sides, eyes squinted against the bright autumn sunshine, chest rising and falling fast as hummingbird wings.
“I think I said moderate.”
He shoots me a glare. “You said easy.”
I shrug, filling my lungs with the crisp air. “Easy enough for me.” When I slant my eyes in his direction, I can’t help but laugh at the look on his face. “I thought it would be easy for you. You go for a run every morning. And you’ve got all that…”
He lifts a brow. “All what?”
I gesture at his body. He’s not thick and muscled like he spends hours in the gym, but he has the figure of someone whotakes care of themselves, who moves because they love it and not because they’re trying to achieve a specific physique. He’s lean, and his legs are toned. The slivers of stomach I’ve caught glimpses of are tight.
He still stares at me like he has no idea what I’m talking about, and for some reason, a flush that has nothing to do with exertion steals up my neck and into my cheeks. “I just mean that you at leastlooklike you’re in shape.”
A smirk tilts one corner of his mouth then the other, and I roll my eyes.
“Don’t get a big head.”
“Tell me what else you’ve noticed about my body, Stevie.”
“Very little, Jeremy.”
He bumps his shoulder with mine, and I can hear the self-satisfied smile in his voice when he says, “Doesn’t sound like it.”
“Well, regardless, it’s all for show since you’re dying on a hike that teenagers do drunk and high on a regular basis.”
“Haveyoubeen a drunk, high teenager on this trail?” He looks around. “If you can call it a trail.”
It’s a trail in the loosest sense of the word. There used to be one, when the fire tower was in use, but when it fell into disrepair, the trail was no longer tended to and started to grow over. Now, it’s overgrown with grass and weeds trodden down by hundreds of boots.
“Of course. There’s not much else to do in Fontana Ridge as a teenager.”
“And as an adult?” he asks.
“Well, at least I can get my liquor at Matty’s instead of smuggling it from my parent’s cupboards.”
He laughs, breathless, and the sound echoes through the mountains. “How much farther?”
“Not long,” I tell him. “Just around the bend up there.” I point to where the trail disappears, and he nods to himself.
We’re quiet the rest of the hike, and I have to suppress a smile at the way Jack clutches at the stitches in his side and heaves. I’m more out of breath than I’d like after the weeks I took off from work. Still, I relish the way the sun feels on my skin, how the grass feels brushing against my pant legs, how the chilly air burns my lungs.
I knew I needed this, but I haven’t found the time, and I feel a wash of gratitude to Jack for pushing me to do it anyway. There’s a restless, anxious energy that’s always pulsing beneath my skin, and out here on the side of this mountain is the first time I’ve felt it dissipate in months, maybe years. It’s still there, lingering at the edges, but it feels less, and that’s not nothing.
We finally round the bend, and Jack lets out a relieved sound at the sight of the fire tower up ahead, looming tall against the clouds. It’s rusted and old, but still in surprisingly good shape.
Beside me, Jack looks around, taking in the view now that the trees are thinning around us. “Wow,” he breathes. “It’s beautiful.”
I nod. “It’s my favorite place.”
I wasn’t sure what he would think about it, if my little fire tower in the Appalachian mountains would pale in comparison to all the places he’s been, the things he’s seen, but when I look at the wonder on his face, it makes something thick swell in my chest and clog my throat.
When we reach the base, I point to the stairs that lead up, up, up to the top. “You think you can manage a bit more?”
