ME:
Have I been encouraging people?
I’m making him admit he saw the stuff online, and his discomfort is obvious right away. Three blinking dots on the bottom of my screen disappear and reappear while he forms his response. Good. He can squirm while he explains himself.
Trying to kick me out of the woods I grew up in ...I gripe internally, updating his contact name while I wait.
“What’s up with the pouty face?” Marlow asks.
I startle. “Nothing.” I drop the phone face down on the couch beside me. It buzzes immediately, and I’m itching to pick it up.
August and Marlow both look at me, then at my phone, which is still humming against the cushion. That must be a phone call. I turn it over subtly so my friends don’t notice. The name Shirtless Adam—plus two flexing biceps emoji—fills the screen. My eyes go wide with disbelief.
He’scallingme? What kind of psychopath calls a person in the middle of a text exchange?
“Who’s that?” Marlow asks.
“No one.” I stand slowly so I don’t fall on my face. The dizziness is abating now that I’m not kung fu fighting any turkeys. “I’ll be right back.”
“Why are you calling me?” I ask in a rushed whisper as I duck into my bedroom.
He clears his throat. “Uh, this is Adam.”
“I know.” I flop onto my bed face down, and the room spins, but only slightly.
“I’m calling because I don’t want you to encourage people to go into the woods.” He sounds like he’s reading a script, and his deep voice is adorably awkward. It makes it hard to stay annoyed with him.
“What makes you think I’m doing that?” I bite my lip, fighting a smile.
There’s silence on his end. “My sister showed me your podcast.”
Intriguing. “How did your sister find it?” I’m fully smiling now, and I sound like it.
Now there’s even more silence, and I have time to wonder where he’s calling from and whether he’s wearing a shirt. What does Adam do in his downtime? I can’t picture him scrolling social media. Does he bench-press downed trees? Oh gosh, I hope so. I smile at the thought.
“It doesn’t matter how Ruth found your podcast. You don’t understand the danger people are in when they go into the woods alone.”
“How do you know they’ll be alone?” I’m splitting hairs, and it is quite enjoyable.
“Stevie.”
His voice is like faraway thunder now—full of concern, irritation, and something else I can’t put a finger on. A silly spark in my chest makes me hope that he’s not talking about “people” in general. My heart thrums in my ears. To his credit, his worry sounds genuine. It’s not about being right. He doesn’t want anyone to get hurt. I admit, begrudgingly, that this is an admirable concern.
I lower my voice so Marlow and August don’t hear. “I promise, I know how to be safe out there. My brothers have taken me on their sasquatch hunts since I was in diapers.” Do I want Adam to picture me in diapers? Maybe not. I backpedal. “I mean, I was raised in those woods.”
It’s quiet on his end while I listen to the soft tick of the clock on my nightstand. There’s a knock, then the door opens, and Marlow peeks into my room.
“Hey, we’re going to take off,” she announces through the dim light. “Don’t forget. Friday night at seven.”
“Seven. Got it,” I say away from the phone, waving her off. It was sweet of them to check in, but I’m not sure I’ll be upright again today. “Bye, friend.”
Marlow grins, waves, and closes the door behind her.
“What’s Friday night at seven?”
I don’t quite hold back a whine. “I have adate.” I say it the same way someone might announce they’re having a colonoscopy.
Adam chuckles. “Sounds terrible.”
