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PERI
It’s a pretty piece of paper, a deep scarlet with gold writing. I almost mistake the paper for a wedding invitation when I lift it off the table. The envelope itself is torn to bits, Orion’s thick fingers used to handling large hunks of wood, and not delicate sheets of paper, have done their worst. I’ve seen him struggle with opening mail before. The memory springs a giggle from my throat as I flip the invitation over.
Orion has been my closest friend for the past ten years, when he rolled into town fresh out of high school. I was still begrudgingly a junior. I pestered the shit out of him right off the bat. I was probably his worst nightmare at the time, a teenage tomboy acting like a needy puppy. Even his hidey-hole of a cabin that he took over from his grandpa couldn’t protect him from me.
But my tenacity paid off. We’ve been like Bert and Ernie. I’m the chatty one and he’s stoic as can be, opposites in almost every way except for height. We’re both at the top of the charts on that statistic.
No one would never understand Orion as well as I do and a selfish part of me loves that. I love that I get to see all sides of him …as a friend.
As I read over the invite, I realize it isn’t for a wedding but for a high school reunion. Someplace down the mountain, closer to the suburbs of the city. The scarlet and gold are school colors. In giant cursive writing is the number “10.” I went to school here in Long Ride Ridge with a graduating class of fifteen.
Wonder what high school was like for Orion?
As though my thoughts summon him, Orion ducks through the doorway into the kitchen where I’m waiting for him. He’s a hot mess of a ginger first thing in the morning— hair jutting out in different directions, his wiry beard matted down on one side from sleeping on it. I can barely just make out the pout of his bottom lip beneath his copper mustache. He’s like a red grizzly bear. He’s blinking sleep from his blue eyes and still pulling jeans up his waist.
My eyes dart to his strong hands, tugging up the zipper and buttoning his jeans. They sit low on his waist, showing off a curvy vein between the V of his hips, like a not-so-hairy happy trail. I shift my gaze upward, all too used to the sight of him shirtless.
I just wish it didn’t affect me every time.
You’d think after ten years, I’d be impervious to his physical appearance. The man is built. I’ve watched him grow from a noodle-arm teenager into a mountain man who would frighten a robber into handing overtheirwallet.
I hop up onto the table, just as he sits down in a chair. I prefer my ass on the table because it keeps us at eye level. I toss the invite back on the table in front of him, raising my brows.
“You going?” I ask, kicking my legs back and forth with my usual cheerfulness.
He shifts in his chair, avoiding my eyes. “Been meanin’ to talk to you about it,” he mutters.
He’s known for putting the “less is more” to use when he talks, so I push him to speak.
“And, what about it?” The pet groomer in me has me reaching out to smooth his hair. The strands are soft. I love how the red strands peek out through my tan fingers. When it isn’t going in a dozen different directions, I pull back.
His brow furrows in concentration, or maybe annoyance, but I don’t care if it’s the latter. Plus, he always makes that face whenever he plans to speak more than a few words.
“I need your help. I want to go, but I don’t want to go…” He gestures to himself, from his beard to his shirtless torso. The wave of his hand reminds him of his half-naked status. He stands abruptly, grabbing a flannel and hastily buttoning it. He mismatches a few buttons, but he seems satisfied enough to continue his thought. “I don’t want to go likethis. I want to show them what I’ve become. I want them to see the new Orion.”
“By going as someone else?” My right eyebrow shoots up in question. “How does that work?”
“I need your help in making me look different or something. Turn me into the respectable businessman I am.” He straightens himself up, head held higher as he poses, grasping the lining of a suit jacket that isn’t there and adjusting it dramatically.
“A man makeover?” I hold in a giggle because clearly, he’s serious. “And what exactly does a respectable businessman look like? As far as I know, youareone, but you don’t think you look like one?”
“Come on,” he huffs. “I need to make some changes, like new clothes.” Running his fingers through his hair, he adds, “Probably a new haircut, maybe cut this beard off.”
His beard? No! I love that beard.
“That’s dumb. I like your hair and your clothes and your beard. Changing thosethingsaren’t going to change who you are.”
“You know what I mean, Peri,” he grumbles as I roll my eyes at him.
“No, I don’t.” I stare him down. My heart rate ratchets up. “I think you’re just fine the way you are.”
Does he need glasses? Is his mirror broken?
Whatever put this garbage in his head is broken and more importantly… how do I stop these thoughts?
ORION
In ten years, a lot has changed, including me. I need the world to see those changes, to prove something to those teenagers who ran me out of Dodge —okay, Denver, Colorado, but close enough— all those years ago. I love my cabin living, but at times the simple life doesn’t feel like enough. There’s always something missing. Only thing that ever helps soothe that missing something is Peri.
