Chapter 17 Mira
By the time I make it out onto the lawn, the party posse have fallen into a Shakespearean-level ruckus.
I see Angie and Jocelyn roasting marshmallows and Meredith squealing while Derrick chases her playfully across the lawn.
And as much as I’m not in the mood to partake in a party, going back to the room, to Hudson, isn’t an option.
Thankfully I spot Vanessa and Adrian hanging at a picnic table away from the group.
“You feeling better?” Vanessa asks sympathetically. On the bus ride home she tried her best to console me, but I sat in stoic silence, disassociating for the entire ride, unwilling to break down in front of everyone.
“A bit,” I reply, knowing that the mental toll of this week is going to last a lifetime.
Digging through a plastic bag, she hands me a granola bar. “You should eat something.”
I open the wrapper and take a bite. It’s the first real food I’ve had since I left this morning, and I relish the crumbly, dry bar as if it’s a steak. A number of other snacks sit on the table: Pop-Tarts, individual cereal containers, protein bars, and bags of beef jerky.
“Where did all this come from?”
“Grant hit up the convenience store down the road.”
“He didn’t rob it, did he?” I ask, watching as Grant pours an entire bottle of liquor into a dual-slot slushie machine.
“Believe it or not, that was already on the property,” Vanessa explains, offering me a plastic glass of blue liquid. “Want one?”
“Depends. What is it?” I ask, staring down into the cup.
“Sloshies,” she explains. “They’re a Wyoming staple apparently.”
I gasp hoarsely after taking a sip, the alcohol going straight to my head. “They’re aptly named.”
“No kidding,” Adrian says, as Vanessa sucks down the remaining liquid in her glass.
“I wonder if I can convince Finn to get one of these for the bar?”
My ears perk up at the mention of my favorite dive. “Finn? Like from Finn’s bar.”
“That’s the one.”
Invisible strings start threading together in my mind.
“How do you two know each other?”
“He’s my brother.” Vanessa flashes me a giddy smile. “We don’t get to see each other as often as I’d like, living in Charlotte and all, but I’ve been thinking about moving closer.”
“You should,” I say, trying to tamp down the hope building in my chest that this rekindled friendship might last longer than the weekend. “Who wouldn’t want to live near a bar where you’re related to the proprietor?”
“Psh,” she scoffs. “Finn’ll probably charge us double after the damage Adrian did at the soft opening.”
“I can’t help that I’m genetically bred to metabolize alcohol like water,” Adrian adds, finishing his own drink. “Bring it up with my ancestors.”
I chuckle, reaching for a bag of chips, when I spot Hudson walking across the lawn.
He’s dressed down in a pair of black drawstring shorts that hit above his knee and a pale green tee.
I wait for him to greet his friends, say hello to the bride and groom, or kiss his girlfriend, but he saunters over to a chair directly across the lawn from me.
His gaze is like fire, igniting a heat deep inside my belly as I gulp down half of my drink to try to numb the flames.
“That’s how you two know each other,” Vanessa pries, following my gaze. “From the bar?”
“Mmmhmm.” I nod, lips pursed, protecting myself from saying anything else that would elicit more unwanted questions. Sharing personal information about my life is hard enough, but revealing the truth about Hudson and me is akin to standing in front of the class naked.
“I have to admit it was pretty badass how he jumped in the river to save you earlier,” Vanessa says, scooting closer to me.
Except he’s the reason I fell in the first place, I think to myself.
“It was just a reflex,” I reason. “Part of those safety seminars companies like his are always boasting about.”
Adrian shakes his head. “As a former employee I can attest that while we learned how to save someone choking on a peanut, or to properly team-lift an object over seventy-five pounds, I never saw a training video about jumping into a raging river to save anyone from drowning.”
I wish I could explain that his actions were only in penance for the guilt of his indiscretions.
But if I cheated on my partner, I would want to stay as far away from the person I cheated with as possible.
And yet Hudson continually forces himself into my orbit.
Everywhere I turn, he’s there. I can’t tell if it’s because he’s trying to keep an eye on me or if he’s truly a glutton for punishment.
I consider the latter as Angie approaches.
“Anyone tried the beef jerky yet?” she asks, reaching for the bag of petrified meat, ripping open the bag, and taking a whiff. “I swear if I don’t get some protein soon I’m going to pass out.”
“Can’t be as bad as those hamburgers,” Adrian says as she pops a piece in her mouth and begins chewing.
“Where’d Jocelyn run off to?” Vanessa asks.
Angie motions across the lawn. “Throwing axes with Derrick.”
We all turn our heads, catching sight of a steel blade flying through the air.
“Who gave that man a weapon?” I ask, as the axe lodges itself in the dilapidated barn.
“He stole it from the woodpile,” Angie explains as she watches her girlfriend take her turn with the axe. “I’m pretty sure they’re doing structural damage to the barn, but none of the staff have tried to stop them.”
“I mean, would you?” Vanessa shrugs. “The staff are like lanky babies, and Derrick is like The Rock.”
We all watch as Derrick throws again, this time making the entire building shake.
“Want me to get you a refill?” Adrian offers, looking into my empty cup.
“I need to get up anyway,” I say, moving towards the Sloshie machine.
I need all the liquid courage I can stomach if I’m going to break the news to Meredith that I won’t be able to shoot her wedding after all.
Sure, it might lead to another bad review but maybe she’ll send me back home.
At least I’ll be free of Hudson and the lingering feelings I still have for him.
Before I can refill my cup, Derrick falls to his knees beside me, opening his mouth beneath one of the nozzles and taking a giant gulp of vibrant red slush as if it’s a water fountain.
“These are so great, right?” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, giving me a playful pat on the back and running back to his game. I stand there for a moment, dazed, as Meredith sneaks up behind me.
“Mira,” she squeals, draping her arms around me and giving me a kiss on the cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
I can tell from her red-stained lips that she’s had a Sloshie or two, as I turn to face her.
“How are you enjoying Wyoming so far?”
“It’s a beautiful state,” I reply genuinely. “And it’s been so nice catching up with Vanessa. I haven’t seen her since college.”
“I know! It’s great, right? The Bishop Hall girls are reunited again,” Meredith says, her arm wrapping through mine as she guides me to sit down next to her. “We should all meet in my cabin tonight and have a sleepover like the old days.”
“For that we’d need a janky laptop, a DVD collection of New Girl, and really cheap vodka.”
“I can definitely provide the vodka,” she jokes, taking another sip of her drink.
“These are good, but I can only have a couple. I swear my tolerance isn’t what it used to be.”
“That’s because we’re getting old,” she whines dramatically. “I swear it was just yesterday we were playing seven minutes in heaven at the freshman orientation party, and now I’m getting married.”
I shake my head, the memory so far away. “Oh God. Please don’t remind me of that.”
“Why? I remember you having a great time with . . . What was his name . . . ? Callum?”
“Cameron,” I correct.
“Man, he was pretty,” Meredith says, reminiscing.
“But very dumb,” I remind her.
“You always did like the nerdy ones,” she jokes, and I’m instantly reminded of Hudson.
How he’s always armed with a fun fact about plants or animals.
How he’d always pull out his well-worn copy of The Hobbit on breaks.
How he can quote from The Princess Bride.
Although I shouldn’t look for him, I locate him across the lawn.
He’s sitting with Vivianne, listening intently as she talks, and I know that he’s processing every word.
I love the way Hudson would never interrupt a train of thought to interject with his own, giving space for people to be truly heard.
I considered it one of his most endearing qualities.
And now I wonder if it’s a tactic to make people trust him.
“I swear you made all those guys look fuckable after you took their photos for the ‘Get to know me’ wall.”
“I did not,” I argue, taking a sip of my drink.
“Catfish could have done an entire special on that wall, because you made everyone look like supermodels.”
“Shut up,” I say, swatting her away, my professional plaster chipping off as I revel in the comfortable camaraderie.
With Phoebe, I always held back little parts of myself, the messy bits that didn’t fit in her perfectly curated world, but Meredith saw the real me—the girl who likes watching scary movies before bed and who screams Midwest emo songs in her car, and who doesn’t care about matching her socks or wearing makeup anytime she leaves the house—and she became my friend because of it.
“I would have asked you first,” Meredith says, breaking me from my thoughts. “To be my photographer. But I didn’t want that to be the first time I’d seen you in years because I needed something.”
I swallow hard, not ready to end our friendship just as it’s begun again.
“I’ve always loved your photos, though,” she continues, giving my hand a squeeze. “And more than anyone you know how important they are to me.”