Page 30 of When The Mountains Held Us

When I finish, I wipe at the wetness on my cheeks and look over at my friend. Silent tears stream down her face as she looks at me, not with pity, but with nothing short of heart-wrenching anguish.

For me.

She sees me and isn’t scared of what she sees. I take a breath, and despite the tears running down my face, I feel lighter than I have in months.

“You and Levi have a lot in common.” My head whips in her direction and she raises a hand in front of her, stopping the litany of questions bubbling to the surface and begging to be let out. “I won’t say more than that. It’s his story to tell. But just know, he has a good heart, and if you give him a chance, I think he might surprise you.” She doesn’t say it, but she doesn’t need to. I know my story is safe with her, and relief washes through me.

See? You told someone, and you didn’t die. Good job, Oakley.

The little voice in my head can be such a snarky bitch sometimes.

“So you and Levi never…”

I trail off, but I don’t get to ask the rest of my question because Jessie devolves into giggles, the tea she’d just taken a sip of dribbling down her chin and soaking the front of her shirt. I snort a laugh as she haphazardly wipes at her face.

“God, no! Like I said, we grew up together. We’ve known each other since we were practically in diapers. Also, he’s my cousin.”

Now it’s my turn to choke on my drink. Of all the things I expected her to say, it wasn’t that. I splutter as some of the now-cold tea shoots out of my nostrils and into the hand I threw over my face. The two of us erupt into a fit of laughter, and I walk into the kitchen to grab some paper towels, still choking on the tea.

The rest of the night passes quickly, the conversation shifting to lighter topics as Jessie tells me all about what it was like growing up in North Creek. We split a pint of Ben and Jerry’s, passing the container back and forth between us as we laugh.

At the end of the night, she helps me load my clean clothes into my car and tells me to come by anytime I need to do more laundry. Apparently, there is an actual laundromat in town, but all of the dryers are broken, so unless I want to hang my thongs from the railing in front of my motel room, I’ll have to take her up on her offer.

After tonight, though, that seems like a pretty good idea.

I wave goodbye as I start down the dirt drive, excited not only for our hike on Saturday morning, but the bright possibility of another day of adventure.

Fifteen

Levi

“Come on, man, it’ll be fun. What else were you planning to do today?”

There’s a beat of silence as a groggy Justin considers. It’s my own fault for waiting until now to tell him, but I wasn’t planning to go myself until a half hour ago when I got the text from Jessie inviting me along.

There was a playfulness to her message, in the way that she not-so-subtly reminded me that Oakley is going too. Like I needed reminding. I had been torn on whether or not to invite myself along when they were talking about it the other day, but ultimately decided against it, heeding Eva’s advice to give the girl some space.

“I don’t know... sleep?”

“You can sleep when you’re dead. Some sunshine will do you good. Besides, Jessie’s going to be there…” I dangle the bait, and, sure enough, he bites.

Something went down between them back in high school, but despite my relentless prodding, neither of them were willing to divulge the details. It was tumultuous for a while, both of them doing their best to avoid the other until they both realized you can’t avoid someone forever in such a small town. Even so, their contact is minimal and nothing short of polite and guarded when they are together.

Maybe this can be the start of reconciliation for them. I’ve seen the way they steal glances at each other when they think no one is watching, the longing and hurt they think they hide so well.

“Fine. But you’re driving.”

I smile triumphantly. “See you in twenty.”

I grab the gray hiking pack off the kitchen counter and stuff some trail mix and water into the pockets. Walking over to the back door, I dig around in Bandit’s basket of toys until I find his favorite ball. I shove the ball and his leash into the pack and clip his collapsible water bowl to one of the outer loops.

Satisfied I’ve got everything I’ll need, I whistle for Bandit, and he comes bounding down the stairs, his tail wagging so fast that it looks less like a tail and more like a blur of brown and black fur. I know firsthand how dangerous that tail can be if it hits you mid-swing, and I wisely remove myself from the line of fire as he comes up to my side.

We climb into the truck, and I roll the window down for Bandit, like I always do, as we make the drive to Justin’s house. August in the mountains typically brings about the start of autumn, but despite it being late August, the sun is sweltering today, and a sheen of sweat already dots my forehead. I never did get the air conditioning fixed, opting instead for rolling down the windows. I love the feel of the fresh air on my face, but on a day as hot as today, the breeze does little to stop a bead of sweat from dripping down my spine. I’m not sure if it’s from the heat or from the apprehension at seeing Oakley again. Either way, I’m glad I remembered to generously apply my deodorant this morning.

I lay on the horn as I pull up to Justin’s house, and he slams his front door a little harder than necessary, waving his hand towards me in dismissal. A scowl hardens his features, and I give another loud honk of the horn when he reaches the front of the truck. He jumps, and I grin when he yanks open the door.

“Fuck you, man,” Justin says.