AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Germaphobe Susan sprayed us with Lysol as we stood on the porch. We basically used a whole bottle of hand sanitizer in the hour we were there. A day and a shower later I was pretty sure I could smell the clean lemon scent of the Lysol.
We met all types of Susan’s, but while some were wild, most were normal. I wondered where my dad’s Susan Smith would fall in the range.
With every passing day, I found Will more annoying and even more impossibly attractive. On the days where we weren’t meeting with a Susan, Will would seek me out when he needed a break from editing or writing. Sometimes Dad joined us as well, but usually he was too busy checking in on the diner, so most of the time it was just Will and I.
Today, Will had looked up a popular hike in the area that went to a crystal-clear mountain lake. I had eagerly agreed after Will had shown me the pictures, but I was starting to question that decision as we turned up another switchback. Will had seemingly forgotten the thousand-foot elevation gain in his description of the hike.
“I can’t take another step.” I complain as I collapse onto a boulder by the side of the trail. I’m a panting, sweating mess and I’m pretty sure I’m steps from collapse.
“It is only a half mile now. Let’s see that southern grit, STG.” Will encourages, trying to tug me to my feet.
“Southern grits are a food not a characteristic.” I moan, and Will laughs as he tries to tug me to my feet again. “No, just leave me to die.” I say, laying back on the boulder and closing my eyes.
“Can’t do. It would make the book too depressing if you died before we found Susan. Jump on, I’ll give you a piggyback ride.” Will crouches down so I can get on his back. I take in his shirtless back and flush all over. A little self-consciously, I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. Will easily continues the hike, even with me weighing him down. I guess his workouts weren’t purely for aesthetics, though I could appreciate the aesthetics.
“You’re being uncharacteristically nice carrying me like this.” I say as we reach the end of the trail, and a stunning clear lake reflects the pines and peaks.
“It serves my own interests; I’ve been trying to get your legs wrapped around me for weeks.” Will says, giving my thigh a squeeze where he holds me up. I think I have a mini stroke because I can’t speak or move or think for a second. I should slap him or kiss him or yell at him, but I just freeze.
“I think I can walk now.” I say when my senses come back to me.
“Are you sure, STG? You look a little flushed.” Will says as he turns his head to look at my blushing cheeks.
“Shut up, Will.” I mutter as he lets me down and I try to put some space between us. I’m placing my backpack down on the cliff with the best view when Will sneaks up on me.
“No, I really think you look too warm. I think we need to take a dip.” Will wraps his arms around my waist from behind and before I know what he is doing, he jumps off the cliff.
The water is shockingly cold, and Will loses his grip on me as we hit the water. I shoot a glare at Will as I surface, but it does nothing to dim his self-satisfied smile. Wanting to wipe that smile off his face, I swipe my hand across the top of the water to splash him, but he catches my hand, stopping the splash. Instead, he draws me closer, his eyes dancing with amusement as our legs brush each other’s in the water.
Closer to him, I’m entranced by the droplets of water that cling to his eyelashes. A drop slides down his face, and I’m unable to look away as it slides over his lips. I resist the ridiculous urge to lick it away and force my gaze back up to his eyes. They are burning now, focused solely on my lips as he gently caresses my neck, his thumb brushing along my cheek. He leans his face closer to mine and I stop breathing.
“Hey idiots, get out of the water. This is a watershed, no swimming allowed.” The shouting shatters the moment completely. In a panic, I twirl towards the yelling and find an old man on the opposite shore.
“Sorry!” My face reddens as I immediately break away and begin swimming towards shore. Will follows me, chuckling softly. I glare at him as we trudge onto the shore in our water-logged shoes and dripping clothes, but when I see the way his wet shirt clings to his muscles, I blush and decide it would be better to look anywhere other than at Will right now.
“Want another ride?” Will asks as I grab my bag from where we had jumped and start down the trail.
“No, I’m good.” I say as I walk a little faster, so I don’t have to look him in the eye.
“What a shame.” Will mutters playfully as he follows me down the trail.
When Lilli texts me after that, I’m a little more unsure of my answer than anytime previously.
Lilli: Kiss or kill?
Me: Kill. I would regret not kissing him, though.
She sends back a string of laughing emojis, but most days I’m somewhere in between the two.
That starts to shift one day though, as Will and I sit by the pool. We had been chatting and arguing and flirting as we normally do, when after a lull in the conversation he got a serious look on his face.
“What was it like, losing your mom so suddenly?” Will asks and I’m surprised by how straight forward he is. Most people dance around the subject and while I appreciate their tact, it honestly doesn’t make it hurt any less. Sometimes it is nice for it to be straightforward, like my grief isn’t something that needs to be hidden away or ignored.
“Like a tornado ripping my home away.” I say. “Mama was my safe place. Skinned my knee, call Mama. Boy breaks my heart, call Mama. Fail a test, call Mama. I could always come back to her and feel loved and in a moment, she was gone. One second, I was studying for finals with my friends and the next dad was calling me telling me she was gone. The world doesn’t feel quite so safe anymore.” I say, wiping a couple of tears away.
“I get that. My mom was diagnosed with cancer a couple of years ago. She is fine now, but when she told me it felt like something intrinsic in the way I experienced the world shifted. Sorry, I’m sure it doesn’t compare to losing your mom, but I get some of the grief.” Will says.
“I’m not one for comparing tragedies. Everybody has their hill to climb. I would’ve been wrecked if Mama got cancer. The only bright side to the car accident was I didn’t have to see her suffer; she was just gone.”
