She laughed. “That’s one way to put it.”
Davie was just topping off his own cup when we made it to the kegs. He offered to fill ours but I urged him to get back to Yvette. I think he knew by my insisting that I wanted a moment alone with Wren, so he tipped his cup to the two of us and left me with a hard clap on the shoulder.
“Guess you weren’t kidding about taking the gold, huh?” I asked as I grabbed two fresh plastic cups from the table.
“Oh, I would never joke about something so serious.”
She leaned back against the table while I filled the first cup, eyes on the amber liquid running out of the tap. My heart picked up pace.
“Did you have a good night last night?”
Wren’s hands gripped the edges of the table a little harder and she shrugged, kicking at the ground with her sneaker. “I don’t know if good is the right word to describe it, but I needed it. The night alone.”
Her eyes flitted to mine then, cheeks tinged pink with an unsaid apology.
“I get that,” I said quickly, hoping to ease her mind. “I actually think I needed a night alone, too. And I kind of...” I cleared my throat. “I kind of did something. Something big. Well, for me.”
“Yeah?” She was smiling now. “What’d you do, Anderson Black? Please tell me you finally wore the tool belt I made you.”
I stopped pouring long enough to give her a pointed look, handing her the full cup and reaching for the other empty one. “I’m never wearing that fanny pack. No matter how much you bat those long lashes of yours.”
“No?” she teased, biting her lower lip. “Not even if I beg? Not even if I get down on my knees?”
I groaned, shaking my head and focusing my attention on where I poured into the fresh cup now. “That’s not even fair.”
“All is fair in war and fashion.”
“Anyway,” I said as she laughed, taking a sip from her cup. “So you know how I told you how I’ve always wanted to travel?”
“I do.”
“Well, I was online last night, just kind of looking around at jobs that are available in the area, around Seattle,” I threw out casually. “And there’s this older guy living in the city, and he’s taking off in two months on what he’s calling a survival challenge.”
Wren nodded along, and my nerves kicked in, words coming out faster now.
“Basically, he’s going to test his survival skills in different terrain across the United States and maybe up into Canada a little. He’s looking for a right-hand guy, someone who knows a little about survival basics and ‘roughing it’ as he put in the job description. I guess if I got it I’d be filming a lot of it for him, too. Nothing professional, just for his YouTube series.”
I was talking fast, not really sure what else to say, and now that it’d all come out I realized it sounded a lot dumber than I thought.
“I mean, I’m sure I won’t get it, but I just thought it would be cool. You know, to travel and see the country a little. And it’d be doing stuff that I’m good at, stuff I enjoy.”
I shrugged, taking a drink as soon as I’d finished filling my cup and keeping my eyes on the rim of it when I lowered it back down.
“Anderson,” Wren said, pushing off from the table to lean into me, instead.
I loved when she said my name like that, like I surprised her, like I meant something.
“This is... incredible. I’m so happy for you!”
I tried to play it off, though her approval sparked another beat in my chest. “Like I said, who knows what will happen—”
“You’re going to get it,” she said with certainty, moving in closer until she stood right under me.
I had no choice to look at her now, this beautiful girl in a ridiculous neon-orange tutu with admiration in her eyes.
“There’s no one better for the job.”
I swallowed, hand reaching for her like a weed reaches for the sun. It slid up her arm, her neck, until I cradled her cheek. She smiled, and my thumb traced the line of her jaw.
“Even if I don’t, I just wanted you to know that I did it. I went for something. And I have you to thank for the courage.”
Her face faltered a little. “Why me?”
“Ever since the day I met you, you’ve challenged me, Wren. You’ve asked me to think about things I haven’t in years. First with remembering Dani as she was when she was alive, not dead. Then about who I am, who I want to be, where I want to go, what my dreams are. Don’t you understand?” I asked when she shook her head, as if it couldn’t possibly be her who made me see my worth. “I’ve never met anyone who takes responsibility for their own happiness the way you do. You inspire me. I want to be better. Hell, I want to live—not just exist—because of you.”
Tears pooled in her eyes and I sat my beer on the table next to hers before pulling her into me. She wrapped her small arms around my waist and I enveloped her in mine, resting my chin on top of her head.
“I’m glad you see me that way,” she said into my chest. “But in reality, I don’t have a single thing figured out. Not one.”
I chuckled. “It’s not having it all figured out that impresses me, Wren. It’s that you have the guts to try—even when it’s hard, even when you’re hurting.”
Her hands clutched the back of my shirt and I hugged her tighter, letting her know I was there. I’d said what I needed to say, and I didn’t want her to get too much into her head, so I slid my hand down to grab hers and motioned toward our drinks.
“Come on, it’s time for horseshoes.”
She choked out a laugh, and it was as if that laugh brought her back to the present. She sniffed, flicking her shades back down over her eyes even though the sun was close to setting now. “Something tells me this is going to be dangerous.”
“Maybe we should warn everyone.”
“Probably.”
She was joking, but I dropped her hand and ran out in front of her, hands around my mouth so the sound would carry. “Make way, take cover! Wren Ballard is en route to the horseshoe pit! I repeat—Wren is about to throw large, heavy metal! This is not a drill!”
Zeek and Julie were the first to hear me and they played into it, acting like townspeople running through yards and spreading the word. Momma Von dropped her hands into prayer and Yvette pretended to shield Benjamin as we passed. Even Ron joined in, holding his beer can in front of his face like a shield. When I turned back to Wren, she was bent at the waist, face red, hands on her knees—laughing.
My favorite sound.
My brain was mush.
Last night had drained me—emotionally, physically—and yet I’d somehow managed to wake up and throw on a smile for the pig roast.
The morning was the hardest, but once I let go of everything I’d shed alone in my cabin the night before, I started having fun. It wasn’t hard to do, considering the company and the events. I’d laughed so much my stomach was sore like I’d done a hundred crunches. In such a short amount of time, these people had become my family.
I was going to miss them.
And even more apparent after today, I was going to miss Anderson.