34. River
river
. . .
next stop, enlightenment
An hour into the hike, the feeling of having my nuts pulled out of my ass finally subsides enough for me to think rationally about what I overheard.
As painful as it was to listen to, nothing Rue said was all that shocking.
I may not know her full backstory, but between what she told me at the Journey to the Stars installation and the sparse details I’ve picked up over the years, I can connect enough dots to know her trust issues predate her shitty exes.
Her parents were abusive assholes. Her brother—her best friend and world—died tragically in his teens. She hasn’t spoken to her parents or returned to her hometown since she left at eighteen.
I’m missing key pieces still. I feel it in my gut, the same pressure that tells me a bad storm is coming.
Rue’s storm, however, is chaos with no outlet. A sucking, self-destructive vortex of memory contained by fear. Yet like all storms, she can’t help but crave freedom. She wants to be felt and heard.
The night of her acid trip, she said a lot of random things while we were stargazing. Some made little sense at the time, but now I understand why they bruised me.
They were debris escaping the tornado inside her.
“Maybe lost things gravitate to me because they are me. And the babies and animals balance the scales. Sad heart and happy babies, lost things and found animals. Cosmic balance. Or—what’s that law of gravity?
No, not gravity. Motion! For every action, there’s an equal and opposite reaction. Ha! I can’t believe I remembered that.”
Sad. Lost.
“Teddy and I used to climb out our bedroom window and watch the stars from the roof, but our father came home late one night and saw us. He nailed the window shut. I tried to explain we were just reading the stories in the sky. But fantasies were sins, and our minds lacked discipline. Stand right. Act right. Dress right.”
Undisciplined. Wrong.
“I promised I wouldn’t climb anymore. I meant it.
But they cut it down when I was in the hospital anyway.
My strong, beautiful maple was mulch and firewood.
I didn’t cry, but Teddy did. Even though he was scared of heights and hated when I climbed, he knew they’d chopped down a part of me.
The last place where I was me—only me. He started dropping dandelion seeds that summer. King Theodore the Brave.”
Her safe spaces were taken. The only person who accepted her was taken. She was alone. Uprooted. Like Teddy’s favorite character, Lucky St. James, she’s been searching for a place to call home ever since.
“Lenny’s an unwanted stray. Lonely, scarred, and afraid to trust people.”
Lonely. Scarred. Afraid.
Unwanted.
She feels unwanted.
Clarity slams into me. I miss a step and stumble on a root. Dan grabs my backpack, yanking me upright before I faceplant on the trail.
“Thanks.”
He nods, casting me a troubled glance. He wants to ask what’s wrong. Why Rue is at the front of the group while I’m at the back. Why she’s chatting with Kirk, full of energy, while I’m scowling and dragging my heels.
He isn’t the only one throwing questioning looks my way, but he is the only one in the vicinity I consider a friend.
“I fucked up,” I murmur.
“What? How?”
“I told myself I was doing the right thing by backing off, slowing things down. I wanted her to know it wasn’t just physical for me.
” I shake my head with a pained grunt. “I was lying to myself. I was a coward, and I made her feel unwanted. Of course she doesn’t think I’m worth the risk or that we have a future together. ”
“Shit, dude. That’s why you came out of the cabin looking like a ghost? You heard her say that?”
I nod distractedly. “Granny’s messages almost never stress immediate action; I should have realized how rare it was. She told me flat-out to act fast. To summon the storm, not sit around waiting for rain. Fuck, I’m an idiot. The key is in the storm’s eye. I have to walk in and find it.”
“Aaaand you’ve lost me.”
Smiling for the first time in hours, I yank my phone from my back pocket. My pulse pounds as I quickly type the most impulsive text message of my life. It might blow up in my face—it might not. Regardless, a weight lifts off my shoulders when I send it.
I tuck my phone away, then clap Dan on the shoulder. “Appreciate you listening, man.”
“I’m always down to listen to your woo-woo gibberish.
” His teasing grin mellows. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think Rue meant that—that you weren’t worth the risk.
Fear is a blindfold, ya know? Sometimes we need someone on the other side to help us take it off.
From that wild shit about your granny, seems to me like you’re on the right track. ”
I bark a laugh. “You’re a good one, Dan. Thanks for putting up with me.”
He grins. “You’re a fuckin’ weird one, but same.”
I’m still smiling when I glimpse Rue’s ponytail swaying as she turns back around. Maya glances at us. She’s too far away for me to get a read on the look she gives me, but it doesn’t seem hostile.
The look she gives Dan, however, is unmistakable.
When she turns back around, I whistle softly. “Want to catch me up? Last I heard, you two were keeping things casual.”
Dan flushes under his beard and proceeds to tell me just how not casual he and Maya have gotten.
They’ve even talked about him delaying his return to Boston so they can road trip down the California coast together.
I tell him how happy I am for him and suggest a few places they should stop. And I ignore the sting of envy.
Our conversation tapers off as the trail becomes a switchbacking incline. The canopy grows higher, thicker, and finally closes, swallowing us in a world of cool shadows and draping moss. Beyond fir, hemlock, and a host of other trees I can’t identify, I see hints of distinctive, rust-colored bark.
We catch up to the group in a clearing with a footbridge that spans a small ravine. They must have been farther ahead than I thought they were; backpacks are off, everyone sitting in the sunlight eating snacks.
“Howdy, fellas!”
Kirk waves as we cross the groaning planks of the bridge. When I step back onto solid ground, my gaze finds Rue. Her eyes sparkle in the sunlight as she sips water and listens intently to the person sitting beside her.
Matteo.
A sting in my chest makes my breath catch.
I turn away and unclip my pack, sighing as I lower the substantial weight to the ground.
In addition to my own shit, I’m carrying one of the five tents and a portion of the supplies and food.
The rest is spread between Dan, Jae, Elio, and Kirk’s right-hand man, Gavin.
Matteo weaseled his way out of the responsibility because of an alleged shoulder injury from yoga.
Dan and I drop to the ground. As we pull out our water bottles, Kirk tosses granola bars into our laps.
“I’ve already told the others, but this is the last spot for cell service until we reach camp.
So if you have goodbyes to say, now’s the time.
” He cackles at his bad joke. “Kidding, kidding. About the doom and gloom, not about the service. Since you were lollygagging , you have five minutes to get some grub and find a bush to pee on.”
The word service finally lands, and I jolt upright. Adrenaline surges through me so fast my mouth waters. With a twist of my hips, I retrieve my phone and tap the screen.
I take a steadying breath and open our text thread. My heart kicks when I see the message I sent earlier, then soars when I read her reply.
I’m in love with Rue
Obviously Tell HER ya dummy. xo
A breathless laugh coasts out of me. I type fast, hoping to catch her before the next leg of the hike.
How long have you known?
She answers within seconds.
I’ve suspected for a while but knew for sure the last time u came to San Diego. Hence my deep rage when u started dating that evil person whose name shall never be spoken again
But I’ve ~known~ since I saw u side by side at the first Thanksgiving she came to. Your auras together are legit INSANE
Insane how?
You’re not two halves of a whole like Wilder/Eva or mom/dad. It’s more like u guys are made to dance energetically and balance each other. The shadows in your aura wipe out hers and vice versa
Together = blinding dancing rainbow magic
Choking on a swell of emotion, I grab the collar of my T-shirt and swipe it over my eyes.
Dan nudges my arm. “You good?”
“Yeah. Just some really good news from one of my sisters.”
“All right, campers!” Kirk’s voice is so loud it startles birds off several nearby trees. “Off your lazy keisters. Let’s get crackin’.”
He starts galloping around the clearing, swinging an imaginary whip, complete with obnoxious sound effects.
I sigh. “Have you noticed his Southern accent grow progressively thicker over the weeks? Fucker’s from Pennsylvania.”
Dan nods, chuckling. “I’m gonna miss him.”
“Him? Or his homegrown weed?”
He shrugs. “Both.”
Shaking my head in amusement, I push to my feet and fire off one last text to Ivy.
Losing service in a min. Love u. Thank u. I’ll never call you Thing #2 again
Once it shows as delivered, I put my phone in airplane mode and zip it into an outer pocket of my backpack.
“Next stop, enlightenment!” hollers Kirk. Lifting his walking stick into the air, he stomps toward the trail—in Birkenstocks, of course, because his toes can’t breathe in hiking boots.
“I think I’ll miss him too,” I admit.
Dan laughs. After adjusting the straps of his pack, he sets off toward the seven artists congregating at the trailhead.
I can’t say I’m disappointed Larissa stayed behind with Penelope and Wyatt, but at this point, I’d trade Matteo for all three of them.
He never shuts up, and his voice is even louder than Kirk’s.
Not in the mood to rush, I take my time eating the granola bar, drinking some water, and stretching my back in preparation. The chatter of the group fades as they disappear into the forest.
Closing my eyes, I tilt my head back and listen to the sky.
I feel her storm before I hear her soft footsteps behind me. In my chest, fierce joy and hurt collide. Despite Ivy’s confirmation, despite my hope, my relief, my conviction, my heart is bruised from her words.
“Hey, weatherman. What’s the forecast?” Her light tone is a cracking patina above a heavy layer of nervousness.
My heart warms. Aches more.
As I turn toward her, I think about how strange and fitting it is that I didn’t recognize her for years, and now she can’t recognize me. How that inversion makes even stranger sense after Ivy’s description of our auras.
We’re made to dance together.
To balance each other.
Rue just needs time to accept that when she finally reaches for my hand, I’ll never let her go.