He kept repeating it to himself even though part of him—the stupid, traitorous part—knew it wasn’t true.
At the turn into the hotel parking lot, Evan hesitated. The rhythmic tick-tick-tick of his blinker knocked against the inside of his skull and he tapped his finger on the steering wheel to the beat. He stared at the hotel on his left, then the road stretched out ahead of him. He needed air, real air, and space that didn’t feel like it was pressing down on him. Somewhere quiet and wide enough that he could breathe without thinking about CJ’s voice or the way the past had resurfaced.
He switched his blinker from left to right, pulled back onto the road, and kept driving until civilization slid away in his rearview mirror. Residential developments were replaced by low scrub and stretching desert, with saguaros standing like sentinels and the mountains rising in dusty blues and purples ahead of him. The farther he drove from the hotel, the more the tension in his shoulders uncoiled. A sign on the side of the road proclaimed that he was driving around White Tank Mountain. A memory tickled the back of his mind, a conversation with Eleanor a couple of seasons back when they’d been talking about things to do outside of baseball.
They’d been sitting in the courtyard, watching the sunset burn orange as it slowly sank behind the towering range before them.
“You ever go out there?” Eleanor asked, nodding toward the mountains. “White Tank’s got a waterfall trail. It’s pretty and quiet during the week. Good for clearing your head.”
Evan had shrugged. “Haven’t had time.”
“You should make time,” she’d said, ignoring his lie and bumping his shoulder with an easy grin. “You’d love it. The waterfall is more like a trickle unless it rains, but it’s a pretty hike. I keep thinking you’d appreciate the quiet.”
He’d told her he would check it out, but he never had. Now seemed like a good time to do that. He pulled up directions on his phone, and forty-five minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot at the trailhead. It was early afternoon on a weekday, so there weren’t many vehicles, and he was grateful it wouldn’t be crowded. He grabbed his water bottle and the backpack that lived in his trunk, and headed for the trail.
The earth under his feet was starved for hydration, forming a pale and gritty path that wound through tall, sun-faded rock formations. Ocotillo branches clawed at the sky, and a lizard darted in front of him, freezing for a moment before scurrying into the desert, leaving a faint trail in the dust. The silence was heavy but peaceful, the kind that belonged in the desert and not the kind that came with the anxiety and avoidance Evan was more familiar with. With every step, the knot in his chest loosened another fraction.
He didn’t think about CJ.
Except when he did. Because ofcoursehe did.
He thought about the way CJ had looked at him after that media scrum, older and broader, with a smile on his lips and traces of the boy Evan had once loved tucked into the corners of his mouth. When that turned into a memory of the night they’dbeen caught, and the back of his eyes began to sting, he sped up until he was almost jogging. As if he could outrun the way it still hurt and how little it took for the wound to break open.
Evan hiked until he reached the narrow canyon where the waterfall should have been. The walls rose steep, curving around him and shading the rocks into cooler grays. The thin trickle of water down the stone face was more of a suggestion than an actual waterfall, but he ran his hand over the stone and let the water cool his skin. Then he sank onto a flat boulder, rested his forearms on his knees, and tipped his head forward.
Why now? Why did CJ have to show up again, on his team, in his city, when he’d finally,finallyfelt like he had a handle on his life? He rolled his eyes and leaned back against the cool rock wall behind him. The canyon swallowed the sound of his sigh, and somewhere above him, a bird chattered. In his pocket, his phone buzzed, but he didn’t look at it. When it buzzed again, he pulled it out, in case it was important.
It wasn’t. In the team chat, someone was complaining about the heat and someone else was trying to wrangle people for dinner. He was about to return it to his pocket when it buzzed again, and Eleanor’s name flashed on the screen.
Eleanor
I have cookies for you. Your friend has been back for hours. Did you run away?
Evan huffed out a sound that might have been a laugh any other time.
Evan
Believe it or not, I finally listened to you and went to White Tank. I needed some time alone.
A few dots appeared, and he could almost hear her smug reply when it came through.
Eleanor
Told you. It’s good for clearing your head.
He wasn’t too sure about that, but he did feel slightly better.
Evan
Can confirm.
Eleanor
Everything okay?
Evan stared at the words until they blurred. If there was ever someone he knew without a doubt he could trust, it was Eleanor. But that didn’t mean he could say anything.
Evan
