Page 29 of Fate Fiction

“Right, yeah, of course.” The shell was building around me again.

Our walking pattern drifted from side by side to front and back again, I clenched my jaw.

Not much further, I kept reminding myself.

“The falls are up here to the left, we can check out the view and then hike down to the bottom to swim if you still want to.” The rush of water carried through the trees like tumultuous ocean waves. I was grateful for the white noise.

A few more steps and we had broken through to the clearing to find ourselves at the top of a narrow waterfall. The falls tumbled down rocks smoothed by years of water rushing over them.

Horseshoe Falls was named from the way they were split down the middle by a dark craggy cliff. From the bottom they looked like one large arc, almost like a horseshoe. Frothy, white water cascaded over each side, bowing outward, then reuniting towards the bottom. Beyond the small lake that fed the falls, the wilderness extended for miles and miles. It wasn’t more off the grid than this, and from the look of wonder on Evan’s face, it was obvious.

I stood there for a moment, stealing glances at him as he took it all in. His sharp jaw was slack in amazement, and he scrubbed a hand down his cheek as though he was baffled by a place like this existing. There was a sweet, childish nature to the way he reacted. It was unlike anything I’d seen from him, acting or otherwise. My lips twitched up in a tiny smile, I was grateful he was so focused on the view that I faded into the background.

I tossed my backpack down and climbed up on a rock to sit and watch the falls in solitude. Evan fumbled through his own backpack for something, emptying out its contents in a frustrated huff. I heard a soft “aha” come out of him and footsteps grew closer towards me.

“Gorgeous, right?” I called from the rock.

I looked over at him. He was already looking at me. “Sure is,” he replied with a soft smile.

A branch tumbled over the side of the falls and into the mist below. Tiny rainbows would appear in the mist when the light caught just right. Nature seemed to want to put on a show for us, as though they were also trying to subtly impress Evan.

I averted my gaze back towards the view. The sound of the water and the warmth of the sun could put me to sleep. My eyes slowly shut and I let my mind drift elsewhere.

A more spiritual person would find this position meditative. Caroline had attempted to teach me yoga, she was willing to take me on as a private student, but I declined. I wasn’t exactly wired to slow down and take things in. Yoga was too quiet, too slow, and I had too much time to think about everything I had ever done wrong in my life rather than focus on the poses.

Maybe now would be the time to start. I forcibly repeated a mantra in my mind to attempt to quiet my thoughts.

Take it all as it comes, be nice to him, he won’t remember you, enjoy the damn week without overthinking for once in your life.

It wasn’t working.

Overthinking was as easy as breathing. My cursed mind caused numerous petty arguments with Nick, my mother was always sure to point out my tendencies, and Andrea also gently acknowledged the character flaw. To some degree, I couldn’t help it, I was raised as a practically only child with a mostly absent mother and definitely absent father. I’d been given the gift of time and solitude, the perfect conditions to think and think and think.

Every move I’d ever made was always calculated. Risks or surprises needed to be avoided at all costs. When I moved to Boston after college I had two separate backup plans in case my job or apartment fell through. I cried, unintentionally, at my own surprise party because I didn’t expect it.

Now I found myself face first, literally, with the riskiest surprise possible. It was me and my thoughts, a non-stop stream of them, and so far they seemed to be deadset on constantly betraying me.

My mantras weren’t helping quiet any of this lingering panic.

A camera shutter clicking broke my trance.

I curiously opened an eye.

“Is that a Leica?” I recognized the $6,000 camera he was carrying so casually. A camera that was on my manifestation Pinterest board in the case that I struck it rich.

“It is,” he beamed at the fact that I recognized his pricey toy and flipped it around in his hands a few times. “I’ve tried dabbling in photography but I never have any good subject matter to shoot. Plus I’m a little slow on the uptake.”

“No good subject matter?” I quirked a brow at him. He traveled around the world for filming, he would be on a minimum of three different continents during a season of Thorndown.

“Good isn’t the right word…more like subject matter that I’m interested in.” He pointed the viewfinder at a thick cumulus cloud hovering above the treeline.

“Don’t feel rushed then on my account, I’m happy to hang out here.” I closed my eyes once more and turned my head skyward soaking up the sun rays.

Another shutter click. I opened my eyes to see his camera pointing directly at me.

“Oh god,” I exclaimed aloud. I was now immortalized on film. Forever a ghost haunting his camera.

“As you know, it’s film,” he waved the camera around teasingly. “If you want to delete it you’ll have to wait for six months from now when I remember to develop the roll.”