If the parking lot is any indication of the popularity of this place, karaoke is about to be a party. When we push inside the doors, we are shoulder to shoulder with people. I feel Reed’s breath against my ear as he hollers over a group of girls in cowboy hats singing on stage to “Cowboy Take Me Away” by The Chicks.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
The feeling sends a shiver down my spine, and I want to lean in a little closer and see what it would feel like if his lips weretouchingmy skin, but I refrain. Miles is right next to me guiding Lexi through the crowd by her lower back. In his own subtle way, he’s watching every move I make just like I’m doing to him. It’s difficult to let myself be touched by Reed with Miles looking at me like that.
I put a little space between us.
“No, thank you. Let’s sing!”
I pull Reed by the hand to the sign-up table. A gentleman a decade older than us with a regal beard and a suede cowboy hat takes our song request on a clipboard. Then Reed ushers us to an open table the moment a group abandons it for their turn on stage. He pulls out my chair and scoots me in as I sit down across from Lexi.
“So, Teddy, what are your plans after senior year?” she shouts over the belting quartet.
To be honest, I haven’t given it much thought. All I’ve ever loved is sketching. That’s what Iwantto be doing after my senior year. It’swhen and whereI don’t have the answer to yet.
“I’m not sure. Maybe art?”
“Oh, that’s right. Miles said you do these incredible sketches.”
I flash a glance at Miles who is wearing a genuine look of pride—the one he used to wear as my best friend who championed everything I did.
“I do love it,” I say.
“That’s great!”
“What about you?” I ask her.
“I’m just hoping to settle down with someone who has an interest in helping me take over the family farm one day,” she says as she eyes Miles up and down.
He looks anywhere but at her. If the conversation I had with Miles at the beginning of the summer is any indication of his feelings on the topic, I know he’s not who she’s looking for. He doesn’t want that life for himself. But what he does want? I don’t have a clue anymore.
“And what about you, Reed? A child of two attorneys… is law school in your future?”
Reed laughs out loud. “Hell no. I can’t think of anything worse. If there’s no adrenaline rush, it’s not for me. I’ve been thinking a lot about smokejumping.”
“You have?” I gasp, grabbing his bicep. “You’ve never told me that! That’s amazing!”
“Yeah.” He shrugs. “It does something good for the world while also allowing me to jump out of airplanes for my job. It seems right up my alley.”
My lips turn down at the corners, and I whip my head toward the stage to hide my frown. I think I might be envious of Reed. I’ve always known he’s a confident, decisive person, but he’s also a dreamer, which is something I don’t think I’ve ever let myself do. Dreams are risky and daring. The concept of failure scares me too much. What if I don’t live up to the idea of Birdie and Archie Fletcher’s perfect only child. I don’t know if I can take that chance. But I have no doubt Reed will make an incredible smokejumper someday, and I’m happy for him.
Out of the corner of my eye, Miles’s shoulders shrink back in his seat. He looks as uneasy as I feel. I wish we were alone so I could ask what he plans to do with his life. Maybe I’m not the only one in this room afraid of dreaming. But the bearded cowboy shouts, “Double Trouble” and Reed says, “It’s our turn!”
“I can’t believe they let us sing two songs,” Lexi says as we pull up to the side of Reed’s cabin.
“That’swhat you thought was surprising? Who knew Miles could sing!” Reed exclaims.
We all look at Miles and laugh, but it really was impressive. He was the one who kept us all on pitch. Too bad we didn’t stay for a solo performance.
Instead, Reed guides us over to the outdoor theatre he set up on the lawn, complete with a projector propped up on the back of the brick firepit, a sheet hung from two limbs of the oak tree, and two blankets spread out by the dock. I settle on the one that looks like a plaid bedspread, pulling off my cowboy boots, stretching out my legs, and resting on my palms.
When I look over at the other blanket, Miles and Lexi are a set of shadows. A light filters between us, cascading the opening credits toKing Kongon the sheet, and they disappear completely. Reed joins me on the blanket as the movie begins to play.
“This is not the rom-com I imagined watching with you,” he leans over and whispers in my ear.
He must not have picked it. He did say they were his favorite, but to be honest, I don’t really care what’s playing. It’s impossible to pay attention to anything with how close Reed’s hand is to mine. If I shifted a few inches to my left, I could touch him. Feel the giddy sensation that I know will sweep my stomach at the stroke of his fingers on my palm.
And maybe I’m imagining it every time he repositions his body to get comfortable, but his hand seems to drift closer, the gap between our bodies shrinking. I pretend to stare at the homemade screen in front of me. But by the time his pinky grazes the outer of edge of mine, I’m squirming and flush all over.
