I looked up at the grey sky, missing the fluffy violet clouds of the day we arrived, the ones that’d made Devin look at me like I was amazing just for rattling off a few lines of poetry.
“Fuck you,” I said to the door handle as, my fingers caught in it, slamming it shut behind me and not even bothering to lock it before I pulled my hood up and set off in the direction of the trail we’d used on the first day.
Or at least, what I reallyhopedwas the direction of the trail.
The mud squelched under my feet, making me swear again as one boot sank deep enough in for it to pour over the cuff and into my socks.
There was nothing, absolutelynothing, in the entire world, worse than wet socks.
One single mud-soaked sock inside a work boot that’d seen better days and wasn’t nearly as waterproof as it might once have been was the worst possible version of wet socks.
Was that tree familiar?
Shit. Was I wandering in circles?
Probably. Without someone to guide me my sense of direction was about as good as a drunken bumblebee.
I had to get to Devin. I hadn’t come all this way for nothing, and I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t get there in time.
Worse,hemight never forgive me. No matter what I said or did after, I understood now how important this was. Not justthiscompetition, but my willingness to support him inanycompetition.
Even if he wanted to go bungee jumping. Even if he took up skydiving. Even if he got into… live tiger wrestling or something.
Live tiger wrestling probably wasn’t a thing, but I didn’t doubt Devin had the balls to do it.
For a little guy, there sure was a lot of courage in his heart.
I could do this. For Devin, I could do this.
He was the best thing that’d ever happened to me, and I wasn’t about to throw that away.
The leaves under my feet were slick with mud and rain, the path steeper than I remembered—Ireallyhoped this was the right path, or I’d feel like an even bigger idiot than I already did.
I wasn’t unfit, exactly, but all my strength was in my upper body and very little of it in whatever muscles I needed for hiking. Calves, maybe. Those were killing me already, but I could hear the murmur of voices in the distance, people talking and laughing and shouting, even the sound of the pounding, bass-heavy music that’d been playing yesterday.
Someone shouted something over a megaphone. I was too far away to hearwhat, exactly, but I could hear a tinny voice on the wind.
Did that mean they were starting? Shit.Shit.
I broke into as much of a run as I could on the root-choked, steep path, my lungs threatening to crawl up my throat and quit on me within seconds.
A patch of wet leaves gave way, slipping out from under my feet in a terrifying moment of freefall, but I barely had time to think of what a long way down it was if I fell back before one knee hit a patch of mud and the other hit a gnarled, exposed root.
Tears sprang up in my eyes from the sudden jolt of pain, but I couldn’t stop. Not when I was so close, not when this could mean the difference between keeping Devin’s friendship—at least—and losing it forever.
I didn’t want to lose him. No matter how steep the stupid path was, no matter how clumsy my stupid legs were.
Tree bark scratched at my hands as I hauled myself up, using the nearest trunk for support, and I slipped again, falling face-first into the mud this time and groaning at the second shock of pain and my own clumsiness.
But I couldn’t let that get in my way. Not now, not when it was this important.
I hauled myself up again, wiping mud off my face, panting as I stepped over the root that’d tripped me up. My legs protested at the slope, and I had to brace myself against the tree trunks now, tired and dizzy.
And then I was cresting the hill, filling my lungs, looking out into the assembled crowd and hoping against hope that Devin would still be there, that I hadn’t missed his big moment.
A sea of bodies stood between the mouth of the path and the river, milling around, all of them in practically the same sensible outdoor clothing, but none of them familiar. Where was he?
I couldn’t have missed it. That wasn’tfair. I’d tried so hard, and now—
