Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
“Well, if she did, she would lose access to ‘Mirror, Mirror,’” he said. “It’s a big story this ‘Mirror, Mirror’ discovery. She’d be a fool to throw away the opportunity at an inside track we’re giving her.”
“Shaun, that’s the problem: I think Wendy might just be a fool and a mean-spirited selfish one at that.” Despite my aching muscles, I pulled myself up. “What is it that ‘Mirror, Mirror’ discovered exactly?”
Shaun shrugged. “I don’t know. Something in the mountains they claim can be turned into fuel. I’ve heard rumors that it’s some kind of bark. Other rumors say it’s moss. I don’t know.” He smiled at me. “I guess we’ll just have to read Wendy’s article to find out.”
I threw a pillow at him.
“Anyway,” he continued, “I’ve got to head out to work soon. I can drop you guys off at your cabin.” After a moment where I simply stared at him blankly, he added, “Or you guys can stay here. No problem.”
I looked around the room. It was empty and surprisingly clean. “Where is everyone?”
“Jobs,” he said.
I groaned. Oh, yeah. There’s a real-world out there. I vaguely remember that.
It took more than a few nudges to wake up Ryker. “Come on, babe. Shaun’s going to take us home.”
We rode back to our cabin in the mountains; I was in the passenger seat, and Ryker was in the back.
He tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to him, and he was beaming. “Back in the cottage,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Do you know what you said to me?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“You called our cabin ‘home’.” His smile widened.
I didn’t want to spoil his smile by pointing out that it was just a figure of speech. “So, I did.” I returned his smile with one of my own, then turned back to the road ahead.
We rode in silence. The mountains came into view, and I felt a bit sad. “Well, so much for me getting back on the trail today,” I said.
“Were you in a hurry?” asked Shaun.
“Not exactly. But people are counting on me to finish the thru-hike. I’ve put it off for about as long as I can.”
“You going to set out tomorrow, then?”
I thought it over a moment. “I suppose there’s nothing else I can do about Wendy, is there?”
“What’s the big deal?” said Shaun. “So, she writes her article. Are you ashamed of us?”
“What’s the big deal?” I gritted my teeth. I had explained myself and how I felt yesterday. His casual tone was comforting then, but now I needed understanding. “That’s not fair,” I said. “You know how I feel, or at least you should know. I’ve expressed myself quite clearly on the matter.”
“Yes, you did,” he said. “I just think you’re making a bigger deal out of it than you need to.”
“Easy for you to say! It’s different for guys. Plus, you don’t have parents who judge you and worry about you.”
I regretted the words as soon as I’d said them. It was true he didn’t have parents who judged him because his parents were dead. That was not something I should have thrown back in his face. Even though that hadn’t been my intent, it could easily have been taken that way. Still, I was too angry with his nonchalance regarding my feelings to apologize.
A moment later, my phone rang. San Diego, my parents, my “home.”
“Hello.”
It was my father, and I could tell immediately from his tone of voice that something was wrong. I said nothing, only listened.
When he was finished, I said, “I understand. I’ll make arrangements. I’ll call you tomorrow.” I ended the call then hung my head.
“Something the matter?” asked Shaun.
“That was my father. My mother’s not well. She’s been rushed to the hospital.”
22
Ryker
I’d expected Holly to return to the trail—and that had been hard enough to accept. But she didn’t return to the trail; she returned to California. And I was devastated, devastated not to have her nearby and devastated knowing that she was suffering, and I couldn’t do anything to alleviate her pain.
The day after Holly had left, the hospital in Blue Ridge offered me a residency. That would mean leaving the cabin in the mountains, but I didn’t care about that. Without Holly, the cabin was empty and sad. More so than leaving the mountains, the residency meant that my life was moving on—without Holly.
It could have been joyous news. We could have celebrated together, everyone together, with Holly and my brothers. But now, I simply told the hospital that I would have to think about it.
I stayed in the cabin and sulked for two days. On the third day, Will and Owen stopped by.
“You can’t stay here all alone,” Will said.
“Why not?”
“Because we’ve already lost you once, and we’re not going to let that happen again.”
I had no response, so I simply stared out the window. It was dark out, and I saw nothing—the perfect view for my mood.