To my surprise, Drew came back before the haze even reached us. It was still far enough out that we could see what it was, but close enough that we both knew it wouldn’t last much longer. He scaled the rock wall, holding his phone high above his head before resuming his spot next to me.
“Once this reaches us, we will need to get out and hurry to the truck. I was able to see over it to the other side, and it doesn’t look pretty. I think the reason the wind was able to push the fog into a wall like this is because a severe storm seems to be chasing it.”
That didn’t make me feel safe or protected. “Then hurry up and take your damn pictures so we can get the hell out of here.”
Thankfully, he managed to pick up on my subtle panic, and with a smirk, he found me out of the corner of his eye. “The parking lot is literally right up that way. It won’t take us but a minute to get there.”
I waited while he went back to his phone. But as soon as the inside of my cheek felt like I had chewed a hole in it, I put my foot down. I couldn’t take it anymore. “It’s a cloud, Drew. You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. How many more fuzzy, grey pictures do you need?”
“Don’t you want to experience it moving over you?”
I glanced to the side, realizing that it really wasn’t far away at all. “What about the storm?”
“We’ll be back at the resort before that hits us.”
“You swear?”
Drew fingered an X over his chest. “Swear.”
I couldn’t explain it, but I trusted him. I knew I shouldn’t, considering he hadn’t done anything to prove he deserved it. However, he also hadn’t given me a reason not to trust him. There was just something about him—his presence, his aura, him—that made me listen. Somehow, in only a few days, he’d managed to silence my overactive brain enough to go with the flow. I felt a deep, unexplainable urge to follow his lead.
I was a lot of things, but subservient wasn’t one of them. Never in my life had I felt submissive, or even the desire to be. I’d always thought those kinds of girls were weak, naïve, easily manipulated. Until now. Until Drew Wheeler. Until I experienced blind trust and an almost instinctual yearning to follow him. I had an incomprehensible connection to him, and oddly enough, it just felt right.
So instead of arguing or leaving without him, I remained by his side and waited for the fog wall to reach us. Which, thankfully, didn’t take long. One second, we were watching it move toward us, and the next, it consumed us, disappearing from sight.
I could see Drew perfectly fine, but the fog hid everything else. The waterfall. The rocks surrounding us, the river. I couldn’t see a single tree while the haze cloaked me. It was majestic, tranquil. The temperature seemed to have dropped a few degrees, and breathing felt different. Not easier. Not harder. Just different.
I must’ve been deep in concentration, because my thoughts were interrupted by Drew’s lips. I continued to hold onto the rock, as did he, the only parts of our bodies touching were our lips. The kiss was soft and slow, almost a gentle laziness about it. And just as quickly as it started, it ended.
The cloud had moved past, allowing the rest of the world to return to view. I was simply in awe; I felt as if I had witnessed something no one else had, as if Mother Nature had specifically picked us, declaring us as special.
“Ready to head back?” Drew asked, acting as though we hadn’t just kissed.
But I didn’t say anything, assuming the obvious—he was worried about the storm and wanted to make it back to the resort before it reached us. Instead, I nodded and then followed him up the trail to the gravel parking lot.
“How did you know what that was?” I asked once we settled in the truck with the heater on full blast.
He glanced at me and chuckled to himself; apparently, seeing me bundled up in a towel while shivering in the passenger seat amused him.
“My dad always had the news on every night during supper. We’d talk about anything and everything until the meteorologist came on. That’s when he’d turn to watch the TV and all conversation would stop. When the forecast ended, we’d finish our meal, discussing the weather. It was kind of our thing.” He managed to perform an entire three-point turn while explaining that to me.
“I’m having a hard time imagining how that conversation would go.”
A soft, beautiful smile lined his lips as he turned his head both ways, checking for traffic, before pulling out onto the main road. “It was always very organic. We’d start by discussing our local weather, which prompted questions about things like hurricanes, the Gulf Stream, blizzards. Anyway, some he could answer, others he told me to look up. I would, and then we’d talk about what I learned the next night.”
“Is that what you’re interested in—meteorology?”
“Once upon a time, that’s what I wanted to do in life. It’s basically the only job in the world where you can be wrong ninety-nine percent of the time and not get fired. But then I learned how many years of college that took, so I decided against it.”
Even though he wasn’t looking my way, I rolled my eyes. I never could understand that mentality. Several of my friends from school thought the same. If it was a passion, a genuine interest, then the amount of schooling shouldn’t matter.
“What about you? What are your career plans or goals?”
“A rehab counselor.”
He quickly gawked at me before returning his eyes to the road. “Like, for substance abuse? Or physical rehab?”
“The first one. After my grandfather came to live with us, I struggled for a while to understand addiction. I couldn’t wrap my mind around why he didn’t just quit drinking, and instead, ended up losing his family. Keep in mind, I was thirteen,” I reminded him. “So I looked into it, and ever since then, it’s been something I feel really passionate about.”
“Wow. That’s impressive.”
Thank God he was busy navigating the dirt road back to the office; otherwise, he would’ve seen my face light up as bright as Rudolph’s nose. Apparently, impressing Drew filled me with excitement. It made me wonder what else would have that same effect.
He backed into the carport attached to the side of the office, and then we quickly climbed out of the truck. Everything after that felt like it happened in double time, like when a recording is sped up and voices resembled chipmunks. Our voices didn’t change, but our actions were a blur. The storm was approaching, and it was coming in fast, so we needed to rush to keep from getting stuck in it.
“I’m sorry, Kenny, but I’m going to have to take you back to my place. Is that all right?” Drew asked after starting his golf cart. “When the siren sounds and the lights turn red”—he pointed up to a signal light at the top of a tall pole—“you have to stay inside. Surrounded by trees isn’t the best place to be during a lightning storm.”
Just then, a heavy roll of thunder rumbled in my ears, so deep and menacing that it shook the earth beneath the cart. In the back of my mind, I considered my attire—shorts, tank, and a bathing suit, all wet, and absolutely no undergarments. However, in the forefront of my mind, I contemplated the raging storm upon us. It didn’t take long to respond with a firm, “Fine by me.”