“Yep, we’re hiking, and it’s my turn to choose the trail. What are you thinking, Kermie?”
“Mind if I tag along?”
Kate’s answer sounds like a smile and feels like hope. And when I walk into the hotel lobby, my steps feel lighter. I’m going home, back to my friends, and I’m going to get my girl back.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Maggie
“Thanks for choosing this trail.” Each of my words are punctuated with a breath. I’m being facetious, because this trail has been a lot harder than Kate or I expected. It’s located in a state park and has miles and miles of semi-groomed trail system winding through dense pine trees. It’s in need of some major trail maintenance and too populated for my tastes, if I’m truthful, but it’s close enough to home to be a quick side trip on the days when a long drive to the mountains isn’t feasible.
“I’ve been wanting to try it for a while,” I tell her. “But other than that portion by the river, there aren’t really great views anywhere, so it always got pushed down the list when Jackson and I would make plans. I always felt like it wasn’t enough for him. I’m kind of proud to know it’s this tough and we’ve survived it.”
At least I said his name without a quiver in my voice this time. For the last two days, I’ve woken up with a funny meme text waiting for me. I haven’t answered, just closed out of mytext messages with a hollow feeling in my gut. Funny texts won’t undo how he ran out that night, even though I miss him and want to talk to him. I hate being worried sick about him and can’t stop myself from obsessing over whether he’s okay.
“Huh, that’s ironic. He’s the one who suggested it.”
That stops me in my tracks. “You talked to him?” I don’t know how I feel about that. Jealous? But at the same time, encouraged, because he’s at least talking to someone from here, so maybe he hasn’t forgotten us altogether? I haven’t been able to make myself ask Alice about him the few times we’ve chatted.
“Yeah.” She trudges forward, and I’m forced to follow. I want to ask if he mentioned me, but that feels pathetic.
Still, I can’t help but ask, “Is he okay?”
“Meh, define okay. He’s still a stupid idiot. I don’t think he likes that program as much as he thought he would.”
The petty part of me pipes up in a cheer to hear he’s not happy with his choice. But the larger part of me, the part that still cares too much for my friend, hates that it’s not what he thought it would be. I choose to side with pettiness in the moment, though, as I stand back while Kate climbs over a log that’s fallen across the trail.
She waits for me on the other side, glancing back to make sure I clear it without trouble. “Have you heard from him?”
“Not really,” I huff, hoisting myself to the top, then check for snakes out of habit before jumping down the other side. A year or so ago, I would’ve found a less challenging route over, but miles and miles on the trail make me feel like an old pro. Even if I still check for snakes when Kate doesn’t.
She resumes leading us up a rather steep hill withroughhewn logs that act as steps up the slope. A thick blanket of leaves and pine straw cover the ground, and the air is humid. There’s nothing to look at but the back of her shoes as we continue up the hill.
“I mean, he’s sent me some funny messages like he used to do. I guess it’s his way of reaching out. But I didn’t answer.”
“Why not? You don’t want to talk to him?”
Do I miss him with every fiber of my being? Yes. I miss talking to him and the way he made every day fun. The way he challenged me to be my best, pushed me out of my comfort zone, and was always there to celebrate the wins and losses with me.
But I don’t want to go back to the way things were. We were more than friends. There were real feelings involved. At least,Ihad real feelings. I’d known he was leaving and still couldn’t hold back my foolish heart. Alice would’ve ultimately given us her blessing.
“I don’t want to respond like everything is okay,” I admit. Just seeing his name hurts, and I’m torn between wanting to talk to him and wishing things between us had never been ruined in the first place. It’s better to cling to the mad out of self-preservation. “He’d just take it and run with it and gloss over the real issues. I just can’t get past how he left. I’ve gone from angry to sad and every emotion in between.”
Head down, I count my breaths as I climb the hill behind her. Lost in my haze of emotion, I plow into her when I don’t realize she’s stopped at the top of the hill. I grab her pack to keep her from face-planting.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry!”
She turns and grips my shoulders, looking me dead inthe eye. “Okay, don’t hate me, but he asked me to help him arrange this.”
“What are you talking about?” Who ishe?
She studies my face for a heartbeat. I can’t get a good read on her expression, but the way her shoulders have inched up to her ears isn’t boding well.
Dread cascades down my spine.
With a chin lift, she indicates the other side of the trail. There’s a large grassy field that borders a small pond. On the far side, well away from the trail, there’s a blanket spread out over the grass. A guy unfolds and stands, taking a couple of steps toward us.
“Holy. Shit. Is that… Jackson?” I stutter. Seeing him has been so far out of the realm of possibility that my mind can’t wrap around the reality of him being here.
