Page 70 of The Last Special Thing

Amelia wished she were more sunny. Nerves about moving away from Art crept in her stomach with each passing day. Things were great, but even if she saw him on the weekends, it would be hard to keep everything the same while moving two hours away.

“I set the expectations that we won’t be hanging out all the time as we have been this summer,” Madisson continued. “It will be more like when I was in high school—I’ll see him some nights and on the weekends. He signed up for a welding class at the community college, which will help keep him busy.”

“Wow.” Amelia was impressed that Max was doing anything at all.

They fell behind one another when they passed a hiker and a husky dog with a tie-dye handkerchief around its neck. A few clouds hung above them, occasionally covering the sun and providing relief from its glare.

“How was that show with Reyna?” Amelia asked. After the rave, any lingering jealousy of Reyna had faded. She and Madisson would always be best friends, and they would both grow their friendship circles in college, not cutting each other out.

“It was amazing!” Madisson’s hands pinched together in the air, trying to hold on to the magic. “I got a new bracelet from the coolest chick. She had her dreads wrapped up and told me that she also does aura paintings and that my color was a bright yellow.”

Madisson continued talking, and Amelia smiled. It had been so long since they had the simplicity of being two girls catching up, not trying new substances together. They reached the Hollywood Sign on the eastern side of Mount Hollywood, as a plump man fell to his knees dramatically and screamed, “I did it. I made it.”

Amelia rolled her eyes and surveyed the area. Aside from the Hollywood sign, there wasn’t much at the top. The view below was the draw. Amelia leaned over, taking in the enormity of urban Hollywood. Soon she would be a speck in this larger-than-life city, but pursuing her dreams with millions of others was comforting, less lonely.

She unzipped Art’s backpack and pulled out her Rumpl blanket, which featured hues of teal, blue, yellow, and orange. She smoothed it out on the dirt, and Madisson plopped down beside her. They took out their wraps and enjoyed a few bites in comfortable silence, the breeze dancing across their skin. A hunger had been gnawing. She’d taken an Adderall pill before she picked up Madisson and skipped breakfast. There were only a few left, and while she was sure Art would get her more, that seemed like crossing the line from summer fun into something serious.

Madisson reclined on her forearms, tanning her midriff while Amelia sat cross-legged.

Amelia leaned over. “What do you think their story is?”

A blond couple with matching navy-blue workout sets stretched nearby.

“I don’t know. They’re probably dating.”

Amelia smiled and raised her eyebrows. “Wouldn’t it be funny if they actually came up here to fight a bear?”

Madisson eyed her quizzically and tilted her head. “I guess?”

Amelia pulled out her phone.

Amelia

I miss you and I love you so much! I wish you were up here to watch this couple take on a bear.

Art

Are you sure it’s a bear and not a Veloster Raptor?

Also, glad you texted. I was thinking about how much I miss your–

Amelia slammed her phone down before she finished the message, a blush creeping on her cheeks. While she enjoyed sex with Art, she was not comfortable sexting next to Madisson.

“Ready?” Madisson asked, blissfully unaware, crumpling up the parchment paper.

“Let’s do it.” Amelia stood.

They tossed their wrappers into the metal bin and set Madisson’s phone on the nearby bench. She set the timer and backed up so they were in front of the Hollywood sign. Amelia’s arm slung over Madisson’s shoulder, and Madisson’s arm outstretched diagonally to the sky. The phone shutter clicked.

“For our dorm rooms,” Madisson said.

“For our dorms,” Amelia promised.

They chugged their water bottles and made the trek down.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

At the base of the hike in the parking lot, the girls pulled new clothes from the car, then changed in the restroom at the trailhead. While it wasn’t sparkling clean, nothing could be worse than the portapotties at the rave. They tossed their dirty clothes and dusty shoes in the trunk—A problem for later.