I raise my little Kodak camera up and snap a photo. It won’t capture everything about this moment, but when I look back on it, I’ll remember how Thorn was beside me, just out of frame.
“Want me to take one with you in it?” he offers.
I laugh. “Not sure I want to ruin the natural beauty with…all ofthis.” I gesture down the length of my sweaty, tired body. “I’m sure I look awful.”
“You don’t.”
His two simple words stop me right in my self-deprecating tracks.
My gaze finds his. A bird sings from somewhere off in the distance like we’re in some kind of rugged, adventurous fairy tale.
“You don’t look awful,” he says, as if he’s afraid I might have misunderstood the first time around.
I bite back a smile, feel my cheeks heating up.
He holds out his hand for my camera and I give it over.
An hour later, we’re all set up down at the lake. There are just enough fishing poles for everyone—they stay here year-round, like the kayaks—and Thorn is about to give a much-needed demonstration. He clears his throat, waiting for Brittany and Emma to stop whispering with each other.
“Has anyone here been fishing before?” he calls out once they’re quiet.
Every single guy in the group raises their hands, and so do Parker and Emma. Technically, I could raise mine, too—I went fishing on my grandparents’ ranch a number of times—but not since I was in single digits. I’m not confident those skills have stuck around to adulthood.
Matteo passes out poles. Everyone who already knows what to do scatters around the lake, while Zoe and Brittany and I gather at Thorn’s side.
“You’re going to want to load the bait like this,” he says, reaching into the small Styrofoam cup he brought with him.
I don’t know what we’re all expecting—some brightly colored lure, maybe?—but it definitelyisn’tthe squirming worm he produces.
“Whatisthat?!” Brittany shrieks, at the same time Zoe turns her head away, saying, “Nope, nope. I’m good. I don’t need to touch that.”
Its wriggling, slimy body is also the last thing I need to touch—but is this notexactlythe sort of challenge I came out here for? I can feel Thorn’s eyes on me, wondering if I’ll back down in disgust too.
Absolutely not.
He holds out the cup, and I see now that it’s full of dirt and worms. My confident smile falters, and I’m sure he can see straight through it. I swallow down the feeling of revulsion that climbs up my throat and pluck a worm out as fast as I can.
“Ew, Sadie, I can’t evenlook!” Brittany wails.
Thorn holds the hook steady as I take a deep breath, knowing what I have to do.
I imagine I’m onSurvivor, that Thorn is Jeff Probst presenting me with a covered dinner tray that turns out to be fish eyes instead of a delectable vanilla milkshake—that I’ll be on track to win the million if only I manage to turn off everything in my body screamingno!
“I can do it for you, if you want?” Thorn offers, sensing my hesitation.
I shake my head, determined. “I can.”
This is so we can eat dinner tonight, I coach myself. My stomach growls, as if on cue—protein bars and pumpkin seeds only get you so far out here. My body needs calories after all the hiking this week.You don’t need a guy to do it for you. You can take care of yourself.
I hate every second—but a minute later, it’s done.
Thorn loads worms for Brittany and Zoe, who reluctantly agree to participate after my show of bravery, then demonstrates how to cast the reel.
Zoe attempts to cast hers three times, each try worse than the one before—Thorn eventually asks if she just wants to take over his fishingpole, and she takes him up on it immediately. Brittany tries twice, then nearly sends the pole itself out into the lake on her third attempt.
Muscle memory kicks in for me, and I somehow get it right on the first try.
Thorn gives a low whistle. “Impressive, Sadie! Looking good!”
