Chapter 5 #3
I walk in glowing. I know I’m glowing. I can feel it on my skin like a sunburn from the inside and I cannot turn it off.
The friends are in the living room. Shopping bags from town. Paige found a necklace for her mom. Claire bought a book about Montana property law because of course she did. Jules has a vintage denim jacket she’s already wearing.
They look up. Tori sees it first. Raised eyebrow. Jules opens her mouth. Paige smiles.
“Don’t,” I say.
“Nobody said anything,” Jules says.
“Your face was about to.”
“YOUR face is. You look very refreshed. Very consulted.”
“Jules.”
“Fine. You look happy. I’m glad.”
I sit down. I’m happy. I’m the happiest I’ve been in months. I am sitting in a cabin with my best friends and the mountain is outside the window and I just had the best afternoon of my life and my body still doesn’t feel like it entirely belongs to me.
Then Tori hands me her phone.
“I wasn’t looking for this,” she says. Her voice is careful. ER-careful. The tone she uses to deliver news a person didn’t ask for. “I searched his name because I wanted to see the outfitter’s site you’ve been working on. And I found this.”
His personal Instagram. Not the neglected business account.
Levi Carrington. Photos of the river, the raft, sunsets, canyon walls.
Mixed in with them: photos with clients he’s tagged in.
Groups. Women. Levi with his arm around a blonde in a PFD, both of them beaming.
Levi with two women at The Burning Tree, beers raised.
Comments underneath: “Best guide on the mountain” with a fire emoji.
“Levi makes everything SO fun” with a wink.
“Come back and take me on the river again” with a heart.
I scroll. There are more. Two years of them. Three. Different women. Same energy. Same smile. The one I thought was mine.
I keep scrolling. A brunette at a campfire.
A group of women in pfds, Levi in the middle, arms around two of them.
A comment that says “best night on the mountain” followed by emojis I’m not going to describe.
I scroll until the photos stop being fun and start being a record.
A pattern. A history of a man who is exactly this charming with exactly this many women, season after season, summer after summer.
The cabin is quiet.
“It might not mean anything,” Paige says gently. She would say that. She wants it to mean nothing because she saw my face when I walked in and she doesn’t want that face to go away.
“People take photos with their guides,” Claire says. “That’s industry standard. Client engagement on social media is actually a best practice for service-based businesses.”
“Some of those comments aren’t about rafting,” Tori says. Because Tori doesn’t cushion. Because she loves me enough to say the thing nobody else will.
Jules isn’t talking. She’s watching me. Jules, who has not been quiet for more than ten consecutive seconds this entire trip, is looking at me with her mouth closed and her eyes careful. That’s how I know it’s bad. When Jules goes silent, the situation is serious.
I hand the phone back. My face is doing something I can’t control. I arrange it. I am a woman who arranges things.
“Thanks for showing me.”
“Marissa.”
“I mean it. Thank you.” I stand up. “I’m going to shower.”
I shower. I scrub my skin harder than I have in months. Then I sit on my bed wrapped in a towel and text my sister.
Me: Quick question. What do you know about Levi?
Leena: Why do you ask
Me: Just curious.
Leena: You’re never just curious about anything. What happened?
Me: Nothing happened. I’m wondering what his deal is.
Leena: His deal.
Me: Is he a good guy?
Leena: Hold on. Asking Noah.
I stare at the ceiling. Two hours ago I was on a boulder in the sun. His mouth on me. His hands. The way he said “this one’s yours” like he was giving me something he’d been saving. Two hours ago I thought: this is real. This is different.
My phone buzzes.
Leena: Noah says he’s one of the best guys he knows. Direct quote: “Levi’s the real deal.” Says he’d trust him with anything.
Me: Cool. Thanks.
Leena: Marissa.
Me: What?
Leena: What happened?
Me: Nothing. Being cautious.
Leena: Being cautious is MY thing. You’re the one who jumps. What spooked you?
I type and delete three replies. Then:
Me: I’ll tell you tomorrow. Love you.
Leena: Love you. Call me when you’re ready.
I put the phone down. The cabin is quiet.
The mountain is dark outside my window. I’m lying in bed thinking about a man who took me to a waterfall and put his mouth on me like I was the most important thing he’d ever tasted.
And then I came home to a phone full of evidence that I might be one of many.
Noah says he’s the real deal. But Noah is his friend.
The waterfall was real. His hands were real. The way he looked at me was real.
But so are the photos. So are the comments. So is the pattern.
I always have an answer. Tonight I don’t.
I close my eyes. Tomorrow I’ll figure it out. Tomorrow I’ll make a plan.
Tonight I lie here with the phantom feeling of his hands on my skin and wonder if I’m special or if I’m just next.