Two minutes before seven, the faint sound of tires on gravel drew my attention to the road. Headlights shone in the distance as Ozrik turned onto the driveway. All afternoon, I’d convinced myself he wouldn’t show up. Only when he parked behind the Jeep did those concerns subside. As he emerged from the car, I rose, instantly self-conscious.
My nerves spiked, and my skin warmed and buzzed like it was alive. It seemed to be a common occurrence when Ozrik was within my radius.
He eyed the house once before asking, “Is it okay if I park here? I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to leave my car on the road and out of sight or what. We didn’t talk about it.”
“No. It’s fine. I’m half convinced I’m not fooling anyone, to be honest.”
I didn’t expect the sympathetic look but appreciated it.
Collecting my camera, I slung the strap over a shoulder and tucked the iPad under my arm.
Ozrik tilted his head with a smirk. “Are you planning to take pictures in the dark?”
“Maybe. Night photography is something I’m trying to get better at. It’s tricky.”
“It’s all those damn settings?”
“Yes.” I mirrored his smile, my cheeks heating. “And relying on automatic mode doesn’t do the pictures justice.”
“I’m sure you’re a pro.” He glanced around. “Where are we headed?”
“This way.”
Ozrik followed without question as I took him in the general direction we’d gone the previous night. I could have walked the path blindfolded. Veering through the trees, a silence descended on us. Dry branches snapped under our sneakers. Night creatures rustled the undergrowth.
“I hope you know where you’re going,” Ozrik said after a while.
“I do.”
“These woods aren’t haunted, are they? I won’t get attacked by flying monkeys or anything, will I?”
I smirked. “No. You’re safe.”
“Good. Not a fan of flying monkeys.”
I heard the creek before we entered a clearing. It wasn’t anything to boast about. More of a stream than anything. The trickling waterway passed along the back quadrant of our property. It was barely a foot wide during the dry season but swelled to six or more feet during the rainy springtime, which was how it presented that evening. It wasn’t much to look at, but I enjoyed its seclusion and often ventured to this exact spot when I needed time alone with my thoughts.
A prolific bur oak with a concerning lean sat on its bank. Several wide roots emerged from the earth where the land sloped to the water. The poor thing looked like it was barely hanging on, but it had been there since I was a child, so I trusted it.
I chose a thicker root and sat, inviting Ozrik to join me. He chose one at arm’s length away. It felt both too close and too far at the same time.
I had no idea what to expect of this rendezvous and had gotten myself in a knot worrying about it all day. Despite having two years on Ozrik, my life experience left me floundering like a fifteen-year-old. At twenty-six, I should have been out in the world, working a proper job, saving for retirement, living on my own, and starting a family with a partner who loved me.
No one told you how different that reality could look when you struggled with your sexuality. It took extra years for someone like me to figure out how they fit in.
Or if they fit in at all.
My own sister didn’t understand, but she also didn’t know the real me. Unlike Dad, Olivia seemed oblivious to the truth. Her patience over the years had dwindled.
At first, we didn’t speak. Ozrik watched the gently flowing stream, while I subtly watched him from under my lashes. He wore a tank top and battered jeans with pre-torn holes, an outfit I recognized from several videos. He absently gnawed the charm on his necklace, rolling it around his mouth as he took in the night. If he was nervous about this encounter, it didn’t show. Ozrik always seemed calm, cool, and collected.
He noticed me staring and spat the charm, letting it dangle on the outside of his shirt. “I was talking to Olivia today about that series of storms moving through Tulsa.”
“I’ve been monitoring them.”
“Us too. We’ve got three or four promising days coming.”
“I’m betting more like six.”
