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What I really need is space. It’s hard to think with him so close.

Once we’re back at the lodge, I rush off to the guest rooms with all of the items I bought at the farmers’ market. I want to assemble gift baskets and make beds and get the bathrooms cleaned and stocked, and I want to do all of that without being around him.

Unfortunately, from the loft window, I have a perfect view of him working in the yard, clearing the overgrown parts of the fire pit. He disappears for a little while and when he returns, he’s riding a four-wheeler pulling a small trailer, the bags of pea gravel I’d been storing in the shed stacked inside. I watch as he and West fill in the circle around the fire pit with gravel, then position the Adirondack chairs around it.

They stack firewood in the nearby racks, then assemble shepherd’s hooks for the white string lights.

I can hear them talking through the open window, mostly challenging the other to see who can carry more (boys!), but then the conversation steers to the rodeo and what it’s like for Noble to be on the circuit.

“You’re at the top of your game,” West says. “Can’t believe riding bulls is your actual job. Sure beats fixing fences and clearing ditches.”

I lean in closer, mentally shouting at my brother to ask questions that actually matter, and when he doesn’t I slump to the ground, wanting to know everything about Noble’s life in the rodeo.

I’ll never find out because Boone shows up, challenges them both to a race out to the floating dock, which they jump to immediately. Boone starts to count down but takes off at “two,” and the others try chucking handfuls of pea gravel at him before they strip off their shirts and cannonball into the water. I watch Noble with a little more interest than I should, part of me wishing I could just knuckle up and swallow my pride and run out there with them.

It’d be so fun.

Way too cold, but fun.

Instead, I force myself to go to the front-facing loft room and spend the rest of the afternoon on that side of the lodge.

That night, Noble joins my family at the main house for dinner, and I opt for peanut butter and jelly alone in the lodge. I tell them I’m tired, which is true to an extent, but really, I still need space. Unfortunately, I’m starting to think that even if I launched myself into space and landed on Pluto, it still wouldn’t be far enough away.

I quickly discover that too much alone time isn’t good when you’re trying not to think about the one person you keep thinking about.

I’m showered and in bed when I hear the door to the lodge open and close.

My imagination tracks his movements, walking across the dining hall, up the stairs and down the hallway. For a few moments, there isn’t any sound, and I lose track of him until⁠—

—there’s a shadow that breaks the light coming from the hall under my door.

I hold my breath for five full seconds, wondering if he’ll knock, knowing that if he did, I would answer.

He doesn’t.

I’m horrified to discover I’m disappointed by this.

My senses are tuned in to every sound, every movement coming from the room right next to mine because, of course, that’s the guest room that’s the closest to being ready.

I know that we are, at this moment, separated only by a wall. Two slabs of drywall and some insulation.

But there is a whole other wall, one that I’ve built, that follows me everywhere I go.

I flip the pillow over and lay my head in the center of the cool side, facing the ceiling, wide awake. I start to wonder what life has really been like for Noble since he left.

My mind, traitor that it is, takes me right back to my sophomore year. I was finally going to homecoming. And even though I was playing it super cool, pretending to be very nonchalant about the whole thing, I was definitely freaking out.

My one chance to wear something other than denim and cowboy boots.

After Bo Morgan asked me, my best friend Mia and I spent an entire day at the mall looking for dresses, and when I found an emerald green strapless cocktail dress, I almost chickened out. I put it on and stood in front of the mirror, an imposter in a costume staring back at me.

All at once, denim and cowboy boots didn’t seem so bad. I would’ve changed and told Bo to forget it, but Mia wouldn’t let me off the hook.

“You just aren’t used to it,” she said. “But this is the dress. Trust me.” She stood behind me, her face right next to mine, both of us staring at our reflection.

“Look at yourself, Hattie,” Mia said. “You’re gorgeous. Bo isn’t going to know what hit him.”

I didn’t care what did or didn’t hit Bo. Because every bit of my fifteen-year-old heart already belonged to Noble. The Olympic-sized torch I carried for him was heavy, and I foolishly and secretly convinced myself we were destined to be together.