We Are Us

Isn’t he— No. Aren’t we worth the risk?

Before I can find the words or gather my courage, Gavin waves me forward. “Come on, let’s keep going.”

With a last look at the flirting mockingbirds, feeling both confused and deflated, despite the fact that nothing has actually happened between us, I follow Gavin’s footsteps.

There’s no one else in the woods with us today. At least no one we see or hear. Sometimes we run into locals taking their dogs for a hike, but this preserve isn’t big enough to attract tourists. There’s no parking lot or visitor’s station. Most of the time, like today, it’s all ours.

A few minutes later, we come to a creek cutting straight through the trail. There’s no footbridge or downed tree in sight, just a series of uneven, slippery stones jutting out of the water at odd intervals.

Gavin’s brows furrow in concentration as he evaluates their placement. Finally, he reaches for my hand, his fingers interlocking with mine, his thumb rhythmically sweeping along the underside of my palm. “Don’t let go, okay?”

Sparks shoot up my arm, igniting tiny fires throughout my body. “I won’t.”

Together, we scramble across the makeshift path, and when my foot does slip a bit, Gavin tightens his grip and pulls me against him. “I’ve got you.”

The heavy thrum of my heartbeat pulses in response. Yes, you do.

Back on land, we walk the rest of the way in silence, our hands still clasped.

“It’s a cave,” Gavin says, when we get closer to what he’d pointed at from the ridge.

“Can you see inside?” I ask in a whisper, squinting my eyes and trying to make out anything in the thick darkness.

“No.” He picks up a rock from the ground and tosses it inside, then pulls me back behind a tree.

“What are you—”

He presses a finger to my mouth, silencing me. I freeze, my lips tingling from his touch, my heartbeat stuttering and then taking off at a gallop.

Gavin appears unaffected. His attention is on the mouth of the cave, watching it intently. Only after we hear the rock clatter against the ground does he pull his hand away. “Just checking.”

My lips purse with disappointment. “For what?”

“Bears.”

A soft laugh slips from my throat. “And what would you have done if a bear came charging out at us?”

“Same as you,” Gavin says, the dark sweep of his lashes fa

The mingled sound of our shared humor bounces off the trees surrounding us, reverberating inside my ears as we cling to each other, our shoulders shaking, sides heaving.

Just as suddenly as the moment came, it’s gone. Exhilaration evaporates inside our throats, the energy between us turning turbulent.

Gavin’s eyes swirl with confusion and surprise, just as mine must have when he pressed his finger to my lips.

So, not unaffected after all.

After an awkward, expectant moment, we step away from each other and walk back to the cave. It’s narrow, forcing us to sit side by side, our arms and legged pressed up against each other, our feet stretched out in front of us.

We’ve only ever sat across from each other, our card games like a wall we’d build and rearrange and tear down, only to build again.

The two of us look out at the forest, as if an explanation for the sudden change in atmosphere might be hidden in the shape of the leaves, the sway of the branches. My sneakers are muddy and wet, and my feet are so cold I can’t feel them anymore. The boots I had last winter don’t fit me anymore, and I had to give them to my little sister.

Gavin isn’t wearing boots either. His sneakers are just as wet and muddy as mine, and he has a tear on the right one, the tip of his sock peeking out.

“I guess we can try to find the cemetery another day,” I say, breaking the strained silence. “I think they have gravestones from the civil war.”

He nods, then tilts his head further back to look up at the sky. I’d been avoiding evidence of the day pulling away from us. “We should probably go soon.”

“Yeah.” My stomach clenches with reluctance as I agree. “I just wish…” I let my voice trail off, feeling dumb. I’ve made plenty of wishes. On fallen eyelashes, holding a tiny black hair on the tip on my finger and blowing it into the wind. On birthday candles, if anyone remembered to mark the occasion. Even on a four-leaf clover I found once.

“What, Poppy? What do you wish?”

I turn to find Gavin regarding me with intense interest, as if my wishes are the most important thing in the world. And suddenly, I don’t need verbal confirmation of the co

“I wish we could live here. That this was our home.”

A faint smile crosses his face, and I notice a yellowish tinge around his left eye. The remnants of a fading bruise. But then Gavin sees me looking and he gives a little shake of his head, his hair sliding forward. “That’d be nice,” he says, softly. “Real nice.”