Boys, Bears And A Serious Pair Of Hiking Boots Part 19

"No, I mean, about all that nature stuff." She looks down, scuffing the dirt with her chunky black boots. "I, umm, I'm sorry about that."

I blink.

"I didn't think," she continues, "if you'd take offense or anything." To my amazement, she seems sincere.

"Oh. Well, thanks." I pause, disconcerted. "Cone?"

"Sure."

We head back toward the others, in time to see Kate pull Reeve into a car on the Ferris wheel. He spots me, making an awkward shrug as the attendant lowers the safety bar. Kate waves at me, and they swing up into the air. Together.

I turn back to my melting ice cream and console myself with a mouthful of sprinkles. Maybe this secrecy thing isn't as thrilling and sneaky as I thought.

"Hey, Susie." I poke my head around the door to her office on Sat.u.r.day morning. "I'm just heading out for a walk, take some photos." I brandish my bulging tote bag as evidence.

"OK, sweetie." Susie's sitting in a patch of sunlight by the window, rocking back and forth on an old wooden chair. She looks up from the stack of papers in her lap and gives me a warm smile. "Call and check in later."

"Everything on schedule?" We both turn and look at the day planner pinned to the wall. Next Friday is circled in red, with big stars and arrows scribbled over the page. Opening Day. A week below it, there's another, smaller mark I avoid staring at: the one that reads Jenna leaves in neat black print.

"I think so!" Susie nods, a now-familiar look of panic lurking in her eyes.

"OK, let me know if you want me to pick anything up." I realize my slip as soon as I say it, but Susie doesn't notice. She gives me another absent smile and turns back to work. I take off before anyone can stop me, bounding down the front steps and hurrying down the road until I'm out of sight, behind the curve of trees.

If I really were taking pictures all day in the woods, then I wouldn't be able to pick anything up in town. But I'm not. As I wait on the gra.s.sy verge, Reeve's truck comes into sight.

"Hop in!" He reaches across to open the pa.s.senger side, and I scramble up into the seat. Glancing around, he quickly leans across to kiss me. "Any trouble getting away?"

"Nope." I fasten my seat belt. "All clear."

I wait for a moment, half expecting some kind of explanation for the way things ended up at the festival, but he just puts the truck back in gear and drives away. I want to ask about Kate, but I don't want to seem like it bothers me. After all, if we're keeping things casual, things like exes shouldn't matter.

I look around for the first time. "Someone's been busy," I tease, noting the clean interior and smudge-free windows. Instead of the usual piles of equipment and snack wrappers, I can actually see the upholstery, and outside, the paintwork is gleaming.

"Not me." He laughs. "My sisters were being total pains yesterday, so I gave them some ch.o.r.es."

"Nice!" I pretend to hit him. "Your sibling karma must be ruined."

"Uh, yeah." Reeve gives me a grin. "Kind of late for that now."

We cut around Main Street via a series of densely wooded back roads, heading out of town on a dirt track I've never seen. "OK." Reeve exaggerates looking around at the empty intersection. "Evasive maneuvers complete. We are a go!" I laugh, settling back in my seat as we turn onto the highway and pick up speed. Soon, we're flying out of Stillwater, warm air rus.h.i.+ng past us, and a rock song playing loud from the old, duct-taped stereo.

I prop my bare feet up on the hot dashboard and relax, one arm slung out the open window. I can see that my legs show all the evidence of my summer adventures: the sc.r.a.pe on my knee from painting the back porch, that bruise on my s.h.i.+n from tumbling off the dirt bike. I wonder how long they'll take to fade when I'm back home.

"So where are you taking me?" I quickly turn to Reeve. He's wearing Ray-Banastyle shades, looking too cool with one hand lazily on the steering wheel. He glances over at me and grins.

"It's a surprise."

"What kind of surprise?"

"The surprising kind!" He laughs, reaching over and taking my hand. Slipping his fingers through mine, they rest together on the seat beside him. I grin and turn back to watch the green valley speed by outside my window.

After driving for about thirty minutes, Reeve turns off the highway onto a small dirt road. We move slowly under looming trees, the track covered in pine needles and leaves. I love the forest here now - at least in daytime. The canopy above us seems to block out the world, sunlight filtering through and making everything around look extra still and peaceful. At last, Reeve pulls off the track and parks. I glance around, seeing nothing but forest.

"Where now?"

"You'll see." Slamming his door, Reeve grins at me, teasing. He pulls a cooler from the back of the truck and waits for me to gather my things. Then, taking my free hand, he leads me deeper into the trees. I walk happily beside him, loving how we don't have to stay alert for Grady to come cras.h.i.+ng through the trees at any moment. Out here, we're completely private.

"How do you know about these places?" I look up, at the pine trees and foliage all around. "I mean, you could live your whole life in the area and not know these spots."

"I guess that's the way we like it." He climbs over a fallen log and waits to guide me over it. "It's all word-of-mouth. Someone finds a cool place, tells someone else . . . or they don't. I bet there are places all over the province that only a few people have ever been."

I remember the view from the mountain, the miles of forest and lakes stretching out below us.

"Anyway, we're here. . . ." I could swear Reeve looks kind of nervous as he leads me out of the trees, to a clearing by a lake. Only this one is nothing like back in Stillwater.

"Oh, wow," I breathe, gazing around. The water is deep and blue, fringed with thick forest, but that's not all: hundreds of flowers line the lake, their flat leaves resting on the water itself and spreading out into the middle of the pool. I drop my bag and walk all the way to the sh.o.r.e. "Are they water lilies?" I peer at the tiny white buds and dark green leaves, just like in that Monet exhibit my mom dragged me to see in New York one time.

Reeve nods. He's standing by our pile of stuff, his hands bunched in his front pockets, almost as if he's waiting for my reaction. I practically skip back to him.

"This is amazing!" I tell him. Throwing my arms around his neck, I kiss him in glee. "I can't believe it, it's so beautiful!"

"Cool." Reeve's face spreads into a smile. "I figured you'd like it here. You brought your camera, right? So, you can take all kinds of photos if you want."

"I will!" I turn back, amazed at the view. "Is the water OK to swim in?" I start to kick off my sneakers even before he nods.

Stripping down to my bikini, I slowly wade out into the lake. The water is freezing, of course, but I edge out farther, the mud squelching between my toes. I don't care. All around me, the water lilies float gently on the surface of the water, bobbing as my movement sends hundreds of ripples out across the lake. It's incredible, but standing in the middle of it all, I'm overcome with a strange sadness, as if I know this is a moment I'll never get back.

I look around, trying to burn everything into my memory. The hot glare of the sun through the edge of my shade, the gorgeous blanket of flowers lapping gently around me, the way my every step sends clouds of mud billowing in the clear water . . . and Reeve, still watching me from the sh.o.r.e. I exhale a slow, s.h.i.+vering breath.

"Come in!" I yell, forcing aside the sadness, and the thought of that neat print on the calendar back at Susie's, marking the end to all of this. "The water's gorgeous!"

We spend hours just lazing by the water that day. Reeve teaches me to skip rocks off the still water, picking out the perfect flat discs and twisting my wrist just right to send them hopping all the way to the middle of the lake. We eat hastily made sandwiches and his mom's fierce pepper brownies from the cooler, and talk about plans for school and our families until the sun begins to sink lower and the air picks up a low chill.

By the time I make it back to Susie's (Reeve dropping me off around the bend again to make sure n.o.body sees), it's almost six.

"Jenna, have you seen my red - oh, sorry." Susie walks in without knocking, just as I'm getting changed.

"The red sweater?" I straighten up, in my bikini top and shorts. "I think it was down in the kitchen."

"Thanks." She pauses, looking at me for a moment. "Umm, OK." Backing out quickly, Susie all but trips over herself to get away. I stare after her, puzzled, but it's not until I catch a glimpse of myself in the dresser mirror that I see what made her so fl.u.s.tered.

A hickey.

I lean closer, already cringing with embarra.s.sment. The small mark is just below my collarbone, out of sight - if I weren't still in my bikini top! Tugging on a sweats.h.i.+rt, I wonder if it's possible to avoid Susie for, oh, the next five years.

It's not. After dinner, there's a cautious knock on my door. "Jenna? You got a sec?"

"Sure." I turn the music down, but she's still waiting. "You can come in now," I call.

She edges in with a weird look on her face. "About earlier . . ."

I gulp. "Uh-huh?" My voice comes out squeaky and high-pitched.

Susie takes a seat on the edge of the bed and fixes me with an understanding mom look. "It's all right, Jenna. You don't need to explain yourself to me. You're practically a grown-up."

Oh, boy.

"Really, Susie -"

"You don't need to tell me anything." She ignores my protests, determined to say her piece. "Fiona mentioned something about Ethan a while back."

Ethan!

I sit, silently mortified, while she continues, giving me this knowing, conspiratorial look. "I know what it's like: having desires, experimenting. I'm glad you're having fun."

At this moment, fun is so not on the agenda, but insisting I've never been beyond second base wouldn't achieve anything right now. I have no choice but to sit, meekly listening to her be understanding about all the s.e.x I'm not really having.

"I just wanted to let you know, I've made a special drawer in the bathroom, full of, well, things you might want." I'm gratified to see even Susie seem slightly freaked out now, despite her supportive act. "Come and see."

"No, really, it's fine . . ." I try to fend her off, but Susie takes my arm and all but drags me to the green-tiled bathroom.

"I know condoms can get expensive," she chatters, pulling open the pretty wooden vanity to reveal a supply that would keep half the population of Stillwater child-free. For a year. "So I bought plenty. Look, even flavored ones!"

There's a moment of silent horror for both of us as we contemplate the implications of those words.

"And, uh, it's for Fiona, too," she adds hurriedly. "So you girls just go right ahead and, well . . . just know it's there."

"Thanks, Susie," I murmur numbly. If only we were still doing construction up here - maybe then there would actually be a chance for the ground to give way and swallow me up.

"And don't worry about your parents. This is just between us." She squeezes my hand rea.s.suringly as I wander blindly back to my room.

"Umm, OK."

"OK," she echoes with a nod. "I'm glad we had this . . . talk. And you'll come to me - if you need anything? Anything at all?"

I can't imagine what I'd ever need that isn't already stocked in that "special drawer" of hers, but I nod along.

"Great." Susie gives me another supportive-yet-freaked-out smile. "See you for dinner!"

The moment the door closes behind her, I hurl myself facedown on the bed.

"Give me ten good reasons why I shouldn't kill you right now!" Fiona bursts into my room minutes later, the murderous-yet-traumatized look in her eyes meaning only one thing . . .

"She showed you the drawer."

"Yes!" she wails. "I don't need to hear any of that. Especially from her!"

"I'm not arguing with you," I tell her.

Fiona throws herself down on the window seat. "Why do parents have to do this? I mean, couldn't they just give us a copy of Forever and leave well enough alone?"

"Just be glad it wasn't your dad," I note darkly.

"Oh, it was." She shudders at the memory. "Like, two years ago. He had a textbook and a banana and everything. It was the most uncomfortable ten minutes of my entire life!"

I'm tempted to ask about Grady, and all the kind-of-crush signals she's been giving off, but I don't want to push my luck. Instead, we sit for a moment, reflecting on parental s.e.x-talk terror in a strange kind of companions.h.i.+p. I may not have Olivia, I realize, but it's not as if I'm alone out here.

"I don't suppose you want to get out of town," I suggest hopefully. "Even just to that ice-cream place in Pedley." I name a small town about half an hour away.

Fiona waits a moment before shrugging. "Sure, OK. I don't think Dad's using the car."

I look at her in surprise. I wasn't expecting her to actually agree. "Great!" I grab my cardigan before she can change her mind.

"Just let me get some CDs." She heads toward her room, and I decide to follow.

"Can I pick? From your music, I mean. Some of your stuff is, well, kind of depressing."

Fiona looks at me for a second, as if she's deciding whether or not it's worth the fight. "I guess," she says at last. "CDs are on the shelf." She pulls on a pair of flip-flops while I make my choice between angry emo guys and angry emo girls. Then I spy a Paramore label buried under the heavier stuff. Aha!

"Ready!" I beam, brandis.h.i.+ng my compromise. My eardrums, and fragile emotional state, are safe for another day. "Now let's get out of here."

Now that Susie's keeping her eyes on me - and my late-night activities - I find it impossible to sneak away and see Reeve, but part of me is relieved. The more time I spend with him, the more I get caught up in our kisses and strange, whispered intimacy. It's getting harder to keep up the casual act, even with the end of summer looming closer all the time.

Luckily the next few days before the big opening are so hectic, I barely have a moment to do anything except polish silverware, touch up paint-jobs, and launder seven bedrooms' worth of crisp linens. Even so, as I throw myself into the ch.o.r.es, I can't help but wonder if that day at the lake really was as final as it felt to me then: a moment out of place in the rest of my regular life. It was only three days ago, but I haven't heard from him since. Already the breathless intensity is fading, and now it just feels like a dream to me, snapshots in somebody else's photo alb.u.m.

"Please tell me that was the last of the ironing!" I make a return trip from the laundry room to find Susie perched by the kitchen table. Now that the decorating is finished, there are mismatched china plates propped up on an old cabinet, and faded sepia photographs framed on the wall. It looks homey and cute, just like something from those Anthropologie catalogs Fiona was hurling around.

"For now, anyway." Susie laughs, pa.s.sing me a gla.s.s of cold lemonade.

"Thank G.o.d." I throw myself down in a chair and stretch. "Next time, can I just do something easy? Building the roof, maybe, or paving the driveway."

"Ironing does suck," she agrees. "Why do you think I run around in all those wrinkled s.h.i.+rts?"

"But not today." I notice that she's dressed elegantly, in a print wrap-dress and dangling gemstone earrings, and for a change, her curls are pinned back in a neat chignon. "Do you have another meeting at the bank?"

Susie gives me a mysterious smile. "Nope. I have something fun planned, for us girls. A way to say thank you for all your hard work. Ta-da!" With a flourish, she produces a glossy pamphlet.

"'A day of indulgence at Blue Ridge,'" I read. "Wait, this is that fancy resort. We can't go - they're compet.i.tion!"

"Exactly." Susie nods. "We need to research. Some spa treatments, a mud bath - and if that doesn't ease your aching muscles, we'll bring out the heavy artillery: Sven, the Swedish ma.s.seur!"

"That's awesome!" I'm easily convinced. "When do we leave?"

"Whenever Fiona's done on the computer. FIONA!" she bellows with the same breath. "We have a download limit, remember!"

A few seconds later, Fiona appears, slouching in the doorway. Tugging at one oversize sleeve, she rolls her eyes. "No need to yell."

"Isn't it great that Susie organized this spa trip?" I say, giving her a meaningful look.