“Mare.”
Maren halted at the sound of the low voice that reverberated down her spine like a tremble. Grady stood behind her, leaning up against the door of his truck, arms slunk over his chest and wet hair dripping onto his shoulders.
“Hey, Grady.” She flashed a smile, a shaky one riddled with nerves. “How’ve you been?”
“Good.” He nodded. “Good.”
Maren turned toward Leland’s truck, but felt the gaze remain upon her. Avoidance hadn’t been her M.O., but she was unsure how to interact with this grown up version of her childhood best friend.
She located Leland’s navy sweatshirt on the floorboards in the back and yanked it over her head, but her arms couldn’t find the right holes and she struggled awkwardly with what should’ve been a simple task. She knew how to get dressed, but right then she was as coordinated as a toddler. When Grady’s hands came down over her and moved the fabric around to push her head through the neck opening, his face was suddenly inches from Maren’s, his breath close and damp on her skin.
“Thank you.”
He ran his hands through his hair and took a step back. “Sure.”
They looked at one another for a silent moment. With a cocked eyebrow, Maren challenged Grady to speak first. He didn’t and it took a shrill holler from the nearby brush to snap their eyes from this stare down. Whatever had been building between them dissipated like a vapor.
“Guys!” Sarah ran toward them, an empty amber bottle in her grip. She wore a floral sarong over her swimsuit and it fluttered against her sunburnt legs as she struggled their direction. “You know what time it is, don’t you?”
“Oh, no, Sarah.” Maren shook her head and waved her hands. “We’re a little old for that, don’t you think?”
“Oh, come on.” Sarah’s fingers enclosed around Maren’s wrist and she pulled her down the sloping hill where the rest of the crew gathered, already seated in a circle. “For old times’ sake.”
“Old times’ sake!” Leland jumped to his feet, a fist lifted into the twilight sky. “You’re in, right Cutter?”
Maren stole a look at Grady. He’d followed her down the embankment, but he didn’t answer.
“Good! Cutter’s in!”
“I don’t think that was a yes…” Maren trailed off as Leland’s palms landed on her shoulders and pushed her to sit. He did the same with Grady, though Grady’s reluctance was more obvious in the way he shifted with unease on the log beneath him. From underneath a fringe of hair, his eyes met Maren’s. They were shrouded with a year’s worth of unspoken emotion, bottled up in one hungry and hopeless stare.
Maren looked away.
Making a run for it seemed like a good option. Within a matter of minutes, Maren could find shelter among the many trees and hideouts that would allow her the breath and space to put this in perspective. Separation could do that—should do that. But a year away and a five-hour train ride hadn’t achieved that goal. Out of sight was never out of mind when it came to this boy.
The bottle spun around four times and as many awkward kisses were exchanged before the neck and the base pointed to Maren’s fate. Brilliant oranges and crimson reds streaked across Grady’s face, the reflection of the bonfire illuminating him in harsh daggers of light. His throat pulsed with a swallow. Maren still hadn’t managed one of her own.
“Finally!” Leland blurted like a celebration. “And about dang time if you ask me!”
Maren couldn’t do this. She would not kiss the boy who had been her closest friend for the first time in front of a group of their peers. In all of her fantasies—her hopes and outlandish wishes—this was not how it would play out.
But then the thought crossed her mind that if she didn’t take the opportunity now, however orchestrated or forced, it may never happen at all.
When opportunity weighed in against reason, opportunity won out.
Maren rose to her feet and closed the gap between them. Gasps and squeals erupted at their periphery, but she blocked them out and zeroed in on Grady, the only one to ever have her full attention. His light eyes were rounded in shock. Maybe fear. Kneeling down, Maren placed two hands onto his shoulders and inched her face closer. She could smell the tinge of some drink on his breath and there was a hint of watermelon that softened the bitterness. Her chest heaved with an inhale and then she boldly pressed her lips to his mouth. She couldn’t close her eyes, no matter how hard she willed them shut. Grady’s stayed open, too. Their lips didn’t move. They didn’t blink. Maren breathed in and out through her nose for several counts and then pulled away.
Everyone cheered like it was some fantastic moment.
“Congratulations, Maren!” Leland slapped a palm between her shoulder blades. “You just did what nearly 8,000 women wished they could! Everyone loves a pickup man!”
With backward steps, Maren found her place at the opposite edge of the circle. Nothing had changed on Grady’s face. His expression was despondent, but his eyes remained trained on Maren with an overwhelming hold.
The game didn’t last another two rounds before the novelty and innocence wore off. Without anyone really noticing, Maren sulked off toward Leland’s truck.
Kissing Grady was the dumbest thing she could have done. They had gone an entire year without speaking and had only traded awkward glances that day. Swapping spit was not the next appropriate step. Maren yanked on the handle to the tailgate and let it drop loudly. Hoisting herself up, she settled onto the rough ledge, her legs swinging beneath her while she sat in silence. She watched her friends circle around the bonfire in the distance, their alcohol-emboldened courage leading them to do things Maren just couldn’t. It seemed as though everyone had paired off, and the crush of bodies that swayed to the faint thumping of music was dizzying and disorienting.
She closed her eyes for a moment so long that Maren almost forgot where she was. When she heard the crunching of rocks funnel louder and closer, she finally pried her eyes open. Grady stood before her. His jaw was tight. His lips were pursed determinedly.
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
“Can I sit?” He motioned to the empty space in the truck bed.
“Yeah.” Maren slid over. “Of course.”
The truck dipped as he pulled himself up. Two large hands hooked over the edge of the tailgate and he looked forward, eyes squinting into the dark, the only light the flame from the fire and the flicker of the overhead stars.
This silence felt more a conversation than anything else that had passed between them that day. Maren allowed herself to relax into the familiarity of it, letting her head gradually fall to Grady’s shoulder the way it so often had when they would sit on her porch on a summer’s evening, when all the chores were done, animals fed, and adventures had.
Grady’s hand dropped to her knee. They stayed like this, communicating in their wordless way, but in a language they both understood.
After a long while, Maren lifted her head, sensing a shift.
Grady’s hand pulled back. When the same hand rose to her face and delicately cupped her jaw, his palm lightly pressed to her skin, Maren fought to contain the gasp that sucked all of her air in one big whoosh.
Grady’s eyes darted between Maren’s, unfocused and manic. His fingers slid around to the back of her neck and he drew her close. When he opened his mouth to speak, a warm rush of air hit Maren’s lips.