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Jonah
I figured Mr. Freeman would fake his own death rather than come on the waterfall hike, but he climbs onto the bus at the last minute and sits down by himself in the very front row. He’s wearing a pastel blue button down, slacks, and what looks like a borrowed pair of Avery’s trainers. For being some kind of genius, he seems awfully clueless.
Elliott sits between Sophie and I in the back row, playing a word game on his phone as we drive to the trailhead. Sophie makes brilliant suggestions and I make terrible ones, because I’m probably the worst speller ever to pass the LSAT.
As they struggle to find a synonym for ‘shameless,’ I crane my neck to study the back of Mr. Freeman’s carefully styled blond hair, the one spot he missed behind his ear. He doesn’t talk or sleep or read, just sits perfectly still and stares out the window.
“Flagrant,” Sophie fires off. “Brazen. Audacious.”
Elliott shakes his head. “It needs to be shorter.”
Sitting up, I peer out my own window to see what’s so fascinating. We’re driving north up the long shore of Lake Cayuga, the water and sky reflecting each other like foggy mirrors. A whole string of geese touches down near the center of the lake and I want to go up and sit next to him, make sure he didn’t miss them.
“Brash. Immodest.”
Something prods my side and I realize Elliott’s glaring at me. “Are you going to help, or just zone out?”
I bite my lip, still staring at that straight, quiet back, his wide shoulders. “Thirsty. Needy. Horny.”
Elliott smirks. “Say that shit to your girlfriend, not me.”
“She’s not—” I bite my tongue. Sophie and I made plans to have sex for the first time tonight, since she got the only single room. I guess that will make us official.
The parking lot for Linden Falls has already filled up with cars and families dragging their kids toward the trail. We all grab backpacks and set off in groups of two or three. Once everyone gets to the falls, we’ll cook lunch over a campfire, because sandwiches aren’t exciting enough for Avery. I’m pretty sure I’m the only person here who even knows how to build a fire.
Elliott and Sophie walk so fucking slowly and keep stopping for water and snacks, like we’re climbing a fourteener. Eventually, I wave goodbye and set my own pace, as fast as I want, passing everyone who left before us.
Racing up the last steep hill, I stop to admire the two-hundred-foot falls dropping straight down over slate cliffs into a wide basin dotted with boulders. I hike down to the water’s edge and work my way toward the falls until I’m slipping and jumping between wet rocks, spray dancing across my skin. I keep checking over my shoulder, but no one else has arrived. I’m always going, and my parents told me I’m too fast, too much, that I need to slow down, and when I get to the end, I always look around and realize I’m alone. I guess that’s what I want in the girl I end up marrying: someone who cares enough to stay by my side no matter how far I go.
By the time I make it to shore again, dripping and shivering, the rest of the class has showed up and laid out blankets and chairs around one of the fire pits in the picnic area.
I turn around, searching the clearing. “Where’s Mr. Freeman?”
Avery shrugs. “He’s a grown man; he’ll get here. I hope he hurries up, because he has the fire starters and half the food.”
Sophie and Elliott have pulled out study notebooks, so I make a break for it. “I’ll go get him.”
Skidding on the downhill parts, I jog back along the trail. Everything in the world seems so clear and perfect for a few minutes as the sun dries out my clothes and warms the back of my neck. Finally, I spot a tall figure with a bag on his shoulder and one more in each hand. All the shit Avery packed and couldn’t be bothered to carry. He probably has a pissy expression on his face, but from a distance he looks kind of sweet, like an over-prepared dad.
He stops for a drink of water, lowering the bottle slightly when I slide to a stop in front of him. His clothes seem immaculate, and he’s not sweating at all. When I pick up one of the bags, it’s so heavy I almost drop it again. The guy looks trim under his clothes, but he’s secretly a beast. And so freaking tall. I’m used to looking up at people, but having the top of my head level with a guy’s shoulder is just insulting.
“I thought you’d be out in front,” he says drily, wiping off the rim of the water bottle and offering it to me, watching me chug.
I’m still panting as I rub water from my upper lip. “You’re so slow we already had lunch, packed up, and left.” I grin at his puzzled face. “Actually, I heard you got left to carry everything.”
When I try to grab a second bag, he tightens his grip until we’re playing tug-of-war right there in the middle of the trail. “I volunteered,” he insists.
“Now I’m volunteering.”
“You already have a bag.”
A familiar pain flares in my chest and before I can think I pry his fingers off the strap and yank it away. “This might surprise you, but I can carry more things than I have hands.” Assholes don’t get under my skin; they’re everywhere. It’s the people who act like they see me as more than my missing parts, only to turn around and prove me wrong.
His face goes blank, the muscles in his jaw tightening. “If I’ve given the impression that I would even think something like that, I apologize.”
Good fucking job, Jonah.I’ve never snapped at someone like that in my life, not about my arm. I stare down at my legs, covered in scratches from yesterday, and nudge the bag with my toe, searching for something to say.
He taps the binoculars around my neck, bumping them against my chest. “Do you birdwatch? I heard about a swallow-tailed kite sighting recently.”
