"Admiring the weather?"
"Exactly."
His laugh rolls over the river, warm and effortless.
"You're terrible at lying, Paddles."
A kid runs past us, splashing water everywhere. The cold water against my skin makes me gasp, and then I laugh. The kind of laugh that makes my stomach hurt.
And when I look at Dean, he's smiling at me like my happiness brings him joy.
The Etowah rushes past us, sparkling beneath the afternoon sun. Light dances across the surface, breaking into a thousand tiny flashes every time the current moves over the submerged rocks. The mountains rise around us, green and towering, making me feel impossibly small in the best way.
Dean watches me for a moment.
I suddenly become aware of everything.
The damp strands of hair sticking to my neck. The river water soaking through my shorts. The way my skin is still slightly red, despite borrowing some sunscreen from one of the moms.
A week ago, I would've hated feeling this messy. I would've been worried about how I looked or whether someone noticed.
Right now?
I don't care.
"You’re different out here," he says.
I tilt my head.
"What does that mean?"
His shoulders lift in a small shrug.
"You were nervous this morning."
"Because I almost killed you with a paddle."
His grin appears immediately.
"True."
I roll my eyes, but I can't stop smiling. Dean looks back toward the river.
"Most people come here looking for something."
I glance at him.
"What do you mean?"
"They come to escape the drudgery. To have an adventure. A story to tell when they go home. They rush through life like they’ll get a medal for finishing first."
The tourists who came with us this morning will take pictures. They'll buy souvenirs. They'll tell their friends they went rafting in Crescent Ridge.
But will they notice the way sunlight turns the river gold?
Will they feel the way the cold water wraps around their legs and makes them forget everything waiting for them back home?
I don't know if they will, but I do.
