Not until I reach a babbling brook at the end of the trail. With the rain we’ve been getting, it’s too wide for me to rush through right now. But that’s fine, because mission accomplished: I haverun so fast and so long that all I can feel is the burn of my lungs and thighs, the pain in my right knee from an old injury. There is no disappointment. No anger. Just physical pain, and the oncoming runner’s high that should get me through the rest of this morning. I nudge the voice of Taylor Swift out of my ears and shove the pods in my pockets. Now there’s the sound of gurgling water and birdsong. I put my hands on my thighs and bend over, breathing the sweet, moss-smelling air as deeply as I can.
“Teal!”
I straighten and turn around, placing my hand on my chest. My next inhale stutters when I place who the hell is calling me, on a random run, this deep in the woods.
Carter stops six feet away, just like I had done earlier, at the farm. It’s like we’ve both agreed to adhere to an invisible force field. Like maybe he’s as wary as I am about the feelings, the memories, that pop up uninvited when we’re too close.
His breath is faster than mine, and he bends and coughs. “Jesus Christ,” he sputters. He’s practically wheezing. “When did you learn to run like that, huh?”
I frown. “You know I’ve been running.”
He coughs, choking on air. When he clears his throat, he says, “I was calling your name. For like, the last two miles.”
I huff. “I had my AirPods in.” My breath is back to normal. It’s the other parts of me—my skin, my belly, my heart, that feel off. Like all my organs have grown fins and gills and are now swimming around inside, making me feel like I didn’tjustfind my center with a quick three-mile run. Thunder echoes from far away and I glower at Carter. He’s to blame for this. “You followed me all this way? For what? So you can blow me off again?”
He takes a minute to respond. His body has thickened up since we were kids, lined with hard, lean planes. He’s in good shape,but I guess he doesn’t run. He really needs to work on his endurance. If I were still training at the gym, I’d start him with just ten-minute intervals. In thirty days, he’d be blowing through a 5K. Midyear, a half marathon. But these thoughts are dumb and pointless. I was fired two weeks ago. And Carter, as far as I know, has never set foot in Cranberry Fitness Studio, anyway.
I roll my eyes. “Carter, what the hell do you want?”
He locks eyes with me and takes one sure, steady breath. “I’ll go with you.”
I freeze and then blink slowly. “To Nate’s wedding?” I hate the way my voice squeaks with hope. I’d thought for sure he’d chased me down to finally tell me off for being such a shit friend to him.
He nods. “But then you owe me.”
My eyes widen. “Owe you what? Sex?” I don’t know why of all the words that can be worded, that’s the one that chooses to rush out of my mouth in that moment.
Carter’s mouth drops open. “Of course not, Teal! Christ!”
I’m almost offended at how repulsed he sounds. “Well, what do I owe you, then?”
His eyelids shut briefly. I’ve always thought his eyes were the wildest color I’ve ever seen outside of a fantasy film. They’re brown and so light, they’re almost sunflower yellow. They match all the Himalayan salt lamps Sage bought for her place with Tenn. “I can’t say right now. It’s not a sure thing. So I’ll just tell you at the wedding.”
“No way.” I cross my arms, not missing how his eyes drop to my cleavage for a fraction of a second. I don’t have a lot up top—I always joked that Sage stole all the boob genes before Sky and I could get any—but this sports bra is doing me wonders. I’m gladI wore it today. “I’m not agreeing to anything without knowing what it even is. Do you think I’m stupid or something?”
“Or something,” Carter mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair, his skin lighting up under the dapple of woodland light. Sage explained to me once that white gold always looks warm, which is why it’s often plated in rhodium. That’s what Carter’s skin looks like to me—as smooth and warm as real, unplated white gold. “This is how it’s gotta be, Teal. I’ll go with you, and you owe me a favor. That’s it. That’s the best I can do.”
If things were like before…I could get it out of him. I’d rush up to him, tickle him, climb over his shoulders sayingPlease please please tell me, Carter, I’ll love you forever.
But the thought of breaking our invisible force field makes my stomach want to drop all the way to the ground, all the way through it, to the invisible mushroom map Sage and Tenn are always reciting poetry about.
Things aren’t like before. And that’s on me. Which means it’s also on me to fix it.
I close my eyes and picture my list on the dresser, the one I made with my friend Leilani for the new year. Leilani was raised by second-gen hippies and has been on my case to make a vision board for years. The best I could do was a list, which made her do this wild, hair-tossing happy dance.
The first line on that list is1. Stop being selfish.
Selfish Teal would’ve tried to figure out what’s in it for her with whatever Carter’s propositioning. What it’s going to cost her. She would weigh all the options before taking the safest route, even if people were hurt along the way.
I don’t want to be her anymore.
“The thing…it’s not…” Carter shoves his hands in hispockets. “I don’t even know if I can make this happen right now. I don’t even know if I need the favor. I mean—”
“Fine,” I announce, before he talks himself out of this.
His eyebrows reach his hairline. “Fine? Really?”
“Yes,” I say, making a face. “You don’t have to sound so shocked.”
