Begin Again(69)

“I mean, I’ve gotten out of tougher spots before.”

The words feel like the whine of a car brake. I’ve watched Connor face enough “tough spots” to know he doesn’t always get out of them by trying. When push comes to shove, he’s either relied on charm or his parents for help.

It’s something I’ve been able to dismiss in the past, calling it luck, or part of his nature. Maybe even something I’ve been able to dismiss because there were undoubtedly times I benefitted from it, too.

But maybe I’m being unfair. It’s not like either of those factors means anything up against the Blue Ridge State admissions team.

I swallow down my unease and say, “Let me know how it goes.”

“Yeah. And I’ll send you some more of my essays,” says Connor. “You always know just how to tweak them.”

As soon as the call disconnects and his words sink further in I feel a flash of anger that jolts me with how immediate it is, like it’s been waiting for me to notice it for much longer than I’ve felt it. But there’s no time right now. I wad it up in myself and push it back down, hustling back over to the rental shed where Milo’s waiting, crunching some frosted grass with his boot.

“All good?” he asks.

Shay and Valeria mercifully interrupt, laughing so hard about something that we hear them before we see them coming from the parking lot. “Sorry we’re late. There was the dumbest deer in the road. Truly just like. Magnificently dumb.”

“We must have honked fifteen times,” Valeria giggles.

Shay shakes her head, grinning. “That little dude thought we were singing him a lullaby.”

I’m so relieved to hear them back in their usual rhythm that for a moment I forget that in this little stage I’ve concocted, I’ve got the next line.

“Do you guys mind sharing a kayak?” I ask. Before Piper or Milo can interrupt me, I say, “Milo’s already a pro and I’m kind of new at this, so it’s probably better if we’re in our own kayaks. And since you’re both at the same level, it’d make sense for you two to share the double, right?”

Valeria’s not the only one who can mess with the only-one-bed trope in this squad.

Luckily, she doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss. “Sure,” she says. “Good with you, Shay?”

“Fine by me. Gonna need a hell of a lot of Eternal Darkness to warm us up after this though, huh?” she says with a mirthful look at Valeria.

Valeria shivers, leaning in closer to Shay. “Amen to that.”

I clench my fist triumphantly as they walk ahead of us, waiting until they’re out of earshot to say, “Phase one is a go.”

“Be more emotionally invested, I dare you,” says Milo.

I stick out my tongue. Milo rolls his eyes and cocks his head toward the water. “C’mon. I’ll help you get started before you capsize trying to eavesdrop on them.”

I almost wave him off—it’s a silly little boat, it’s not that complicated—but approximately five minutes later I am drifting off and making absolutely zero progress in so much as holding the oars correctly, let alone using them to move.

Milo paddles behind me, following my aimless zigzag through the water with embarrassing ease.

“This is how sailors get lost at sea, isn’t it?” I mumble, despairing as Valeria and Shay get so far ahead of us there’s no way to overhear them. “Someone’s going to have to write a sad sea chantey about me.”

“It just takes some getting used to,” says Milo, narrowly avoiding the splash of me cutting my oar in the water with accidental violence. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

Not before I end up clear on the other side of the lake. The woods look more than a little haunted, but at least Milo seems committed to making sure we all get back in one piece.

I sigh. “Well. Maybe it’s for the best. I’ve set all the conditions, so now it’s up to them.”

“Well, hey.” Milo’s breath makes its own little cloud of fog that hovers for a moment, just as hesitant as he is. “Since we’re out here and all. I was wondering . . . if I did leave.”

“If,” I say, more to myself than to him. I’m glad it’s still an “if” and not a “when.”

“Well. I know you’ll probably say no. But I thought I’d ask just in case.”

Despite the absurd chill, my cheeks are suddenly blazing. “Ask me what?”

The words come out too fast, my teeth chattering and my heart skipping a beat. I can’t even explain why. But there’s some kind of potential energy in waiting for his question, something thrilling and scary, something I want to hear and don’t want to hear at the same time.

That is, until he asks something I’m not expecting at all.

“I just wanted to be clear that it was an actual offer, not just a joke—if you’d be interested in taking over the radio show.”

The confusion hits before the panic slides on in, knocks it aside, and fully takes over.

“Oh. Yeah. Um, still no.”

Milo’s oars go still, our two kayaks drifting closer to each other even in the still of the water. “Can I ask why?”

“Because . . .”

It’s not that I’m afraid anymore. I mean, at least not petrified, the way I was. And it’s not even the pressure of trying to live up to my mom. Being on the radio was her dream; it’s just one means of many ends for me.