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"I mean you don't have to be independent if you leave here. I could help you. I want you to run away with me, not just run away."
I took an unsteady breath. "Owen, I don't even know what to… this is so unbelievable. I really need to take a second to think about… you need to take a second to think about it. We'll plan on meeting here on Monday. We can talk more about it then. Ihave to go for now, though. I don't want to bring any trouble on ourselves. It's getting dark."
"We've been here a long time," he said.
"Yeah, I need to go." I agreed, nodding.
I stood up with a smile and then I reached down, offering him a hand to help him up.
"Are we meeting at seven on Monday?" he asked once he got to his feet.
"Yes. Right here. And also, when we leave here, I'll lead the way until we get to a fork in the road. I'll motion to you that you should take a left when I take a right. Plug in the address to your movie set once we do that."
I picked up my blanket and shook it before beginning to fold it. It was a handful, so Owen stepped in and helped me. We didn't do a perfect job because we were distracted, but it was folded. We kissed again while we were standing there. He was quite a bit taller than me, and I had to look up to reach him. His mouth and his touch and the whole thing was bliss.Was it possible to love someone so soon?
"I have to go before it gets too late," I said even though I didn't want to.
"I know. I hate it that I can't text you."
"Me too. But I'll see you Monday."
We walked to the car holding hands.
"Oh my gosh, I just had the best idea. This is amazing. What if I get you a phone? I can have a phone delivered to me by Sunday, and then I can just give it to you when we meet Monday morning. Would you want a new phone? One that they can't track or take away from you? One they don't even know about?"
"Owen, I could never ask you to—"
"Do you want one? I’m doing it. If you want a phone, I'm buying you one. I would love to. I'm so glad I thought of that.And I would never track you or look at your stuff. It would be your phone. Can I just buy it for you?"
I blinked at him.
"Can I?"
"Yes. Please. I mean, thank you, Owen. I don't even know what to say. Thank you."
We said goodbye, and I got in my car feeling like I was in a different reality. In the period of two days, my life had completely changed. I drove down the wooded road, smiling and thinking of everything.
I smelled like the woods. I had been lying outside for hours. I reached down and sniffed the front of my shirt, hoping it smelled like Owen. It didn't. Maybe there was the faintest hint of him if I sniffed deep enough, but there wasn't much. The afternoon had been perfect—more than perfect.
I parted ways with Owen at the fork in the road, and it took me twenty minutes to make it home. The whole time I drove, I remembered pieces of our conversation.
Owen. He had sung a song for me—not a whole song, but a piece of one. I could tell he was downplaying his talent which made me even more attracted to him.
Being drawn to his singing voice was something I hadn't expected. He was brilliant. I missed him already. I had been happiest when he was holding me—when I was safe and secure in his arms. I was still daydreaming about it when I pulled into my driveway.
It was quiet. John's truck was there, but no one was outside waiting for me or anything like that. It seemed like a normal night, and I was thankful for that. I wished I was still with Owen, but at least I had Monday morning to look forw—
I was in the middle of a thought when the earth came out from under me.
I thought I stepped on solid ground, and the next thing I knew, I was falling, far down. I was off balance, and I had fallen to a sudden, crumbling stop. I yelped at the pain I felt in my leg—a sudden, sharp, hot pain.
I yelled again when I tried to stand up. I had fallen into a deep hole, and my leg was… my ankle was… I yelled out in pain. My ankle was clearly broken. It was dangling at an odd angle, and the sight of it made me feel lightheaded. I yelled again, but my mom was already outside, coming over to me with a horrified look on her face. John and Stanley came out after her and they began bickering and fighting with each other.
My mom started speaking Spanish. I understood her to be praying. She stopped and yelled at Stanley and John the whole time. They frantically went back and forth about me needing medical care, and Mom seemed mad. I thought it was because they weren't moving fast enough to help me. I did my best to stay calm and not overreact in spite of how angry and reactive my mother was.
I was in a lot of pain, and it was honestly one big blur. They argued about what to do next. John wanted to drive me to Philipsburg to the clinic, and my mom insisted that they needed to call for emergency paramedics.
My mom won the argument, and paramedics arrived in a helicopter a little while later. They flew me to a hospital in Missoula where I underwent a surgery to rejoin my fibula at the ankle. The doctors assured us that it was a clean break and thought that I would make a full recovery.
