Chapter 1 #2
The Triangle Times Magazine was a regional publication that focused on festivals, concerts, and other outdoor activities.
They’d had a call out for articles related to day trips and other such fun for the summer and autumn months.
After watching one too many episodes of Running Wild With Bear Grylls, in a moment of insanity, I’d decided to pitch an article idea about tandem skydiving.
Because watching a hot man on television test the physical limits of nature with the celebrity of the day made me something of an outdoor-thrills expert, apparently.
Thankfully, I’d come to my senses and reset my expectations to align with the reality of my physical limits, but I still wanted to write some sort of article.
When the mountain trip came back into the picture for me, I’d decided to use this article as an opportunity to help those whose experiences in the great outdoors were as disastrous as mine.
My article topic, which was essentially a “Hiking for Dummies” kind of thing, had piqued the magazine’s interest, and they’d bitten.
But now I was second and third-guessing myself on even this topic. It was part of the reason why I’d been dragging my feet packing. I’d embarrassed myself enough for one lifetime, thank you very much. I didn’t need to add bombing this article assignment to my list.
“What do I really have to offer them?” I placed a hand on my chest. “Tip number one: know where the closest hospital is? That’s it. That’s the article. Based on my skill level, anyway.”
“No way, Jonas. You told me yourself they loved the idea, and I mean…” She gestured in my direction with both arms. “Take this as the compliment that it absolutely is because I adore you just as you are, but you’re the perfect man to write it.
You practically have two left feet, and somehow every insect and critter in the vicinity flocks to you and wants to feast on you.
And you know you’re not the only person who simultaneously loves and loathes being in nature.
Your quirks will work in your favor. Trust me.
People all over the Triangle will benefit from your words of wisdom.
” Brooklynn’s lips twitched, and a dimple popped up on her cheek as she unsuccessfully tried to rein in her smile.
“Yeah, yeah, okay.” I huffed, like she was exaggerating, but her assessment of me was spot-on. “But seriously, what exactly has your family planned for this trip? On a scale of one to ten, how likely am I to break something this time?”
With her head cocked and her eyes squinted, she sized me up. “One being…?”
“One being I trip and fall on the deck and walk away with a few scrapes and splinters, and ten being I trip and fall off a mountain and arrive home in a body bag,” I deadpanned.
“I’d say a solid six-point-five.”
She was teasing, I knew, but my face still pulled into a tight grimace before I replied, “That’s quite comforting.”
I wasn’t exactly known for my grace and athletic abilities.
Once in seventh grade, when we’d had to do those stupid fitness tests in PE that were the absolute bane of my adolescent existence, I’d reached down to grab a wooden block during the shuttle run test and not only missed the block but also managed to get caught up in my shoestrings and twist my ankle trying to pivot around empty-handed.
In ninth grade, after managing a whopping one pull-up, my new, too-loose gym shorts had started to slip down my scrawny hips, and I’d let go of the bar in a panic.
My chin had taken the brunt of that mistake.
And coming in as an honorable mention, just last week, I’d nearly castrated myself climbing up the ladder at the community pool.
I still had no idea how that one happened.
Forget the tandem skydiving—I could barely walk without tripping over my own two feet some days.
However, like I said, my indecision about going this summer hadn’t fully stemmed from embarrassment over my lack of coordination, even given how accident-prone I was.
It mainly had to do with avoiding a certain brown-haired, blue-eyed Kennedy sibling whom I had a massive crush on, and had completely and shamefully embarrassed myself in front of last winter.
I was still trying to save face. And although I was now actively avoiding Phoenix, I missed him so much.
We’d gotten pretty close over the years—not as close as Brooklynn and me, to be sure, but in a different way.
We’d talked and texted regularly. Hung out when we were both around.
We’d had a good thing going until I’d royally messed up over Christmas.
I’d acted like an idiot and then started avoiding him as if he’d done something wrong.
So now, I was stuck missing Phoenix’s strong, comforting presence in my life.
He was warm and funny and never judged me for any of my awkwardness. Teased me, sure, but never judged.
I wanted to fix things, but I’d waited too long to try, and now I didn’t even know how to begin.
So, like the coward I was, I’d been keeping up with the avoidance routine until I could think of some way to apologize.
That avoidance included the Kennedy family mountain trips.
But when Brooklynn had mentioned in passing that Phoenix would not be there this trip—work conflict or something—my schedule had miraculously cleared up.
I did enjoy going with her, even though nature seemed to hold some sort of grudge against me.
Brooklynn laughed and slid out of her seat, holding her hand out to me. “Come on, Jonas. Food is always warranted, but now it’s time to quit stalling and go finish packing. Get out of your own head. Things will be fine. You’ll be fine. And you’ll end up with an amazing article.”
I grabbed her hand and pulled her into a hug. “Thanks, B. You always know the right thing to say.”
As we pulled away, she curtsied and said, “I know.”
I hadn’t told Brooklynn about my falling out—if you could even call it that—with Phoenix, nor my feelings for him, but I suspected she’d picked up some sort of vibe about it.
She’d never pushed the issue, but occasionally, she’d ask a question that I would then dance circles around and change the topic.
After a quick clean-up job, we headed back through the apartment and toward the bedrooms. She was right.
I would go on this trip. I would hike my ass off.
I would write my article. And I would hope and pray that I left at the end of the trip with all my body parts still intact.
At least I’d still have some semblance of dignity, given that Phoenix would be hundreds of miles away.