Chapter Thirty

Post-Cruise Tour: Denali National Park

The shuttle was empty enough for Tanner and me to sit alone several rows apart. I was so used to having him at my side this week that the empty spot next to me felt like something was missing. Like the ghost of him was beside me, an accusation.

I tried to organize my jumbled thoughts into neat rows. When that failed, I recalled the feelings chart and attempted to categorize my emotions. But since the one that kept elbowing its way to the forefront was confusion, that didn't help.

As soon as the shuttle reached the lodge, I got off without waiting for Tanner. And without glancing back, because seeing his face might've led me to do something rash.

Our parents had stayed at the lodge for brunch with Mr. Ramirez, and when I wandered into the lobby toward the restaurant, my mom spotted me and waved me over.

As I wound through the tables, a sense of normalcy returned. Tables and people and familiar sounds of conversation were such a contrast to the vast woods and mountains and the wildness of the park.

"How was your hike?" my mom asked. "Did you have fun?"

Mrs. Woods peered past me. "Where's Tanner?"

I couldn't answer, might break down in the middle of a crowded room. My breaths were already coming faster.

My dad stood. "Let's go outside, okay?" He put his arm around my shoulders. "We'll catch up with you later," he said to the others.

I let him steer me outside to a planter and we sat on the edge.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Bear."

"You mean you saw one? Are you okay?"

I was, now. Sitting outside a nice hotel in a paved parking lot with my dad, I could breathe again. "I'm fine." Because Tanner had protected me. From the bear, from myself. "Tanner scared it off."

"I'm sure that was terrifying. Do you want to talk about it?"

I shook my head. I didn't want to think about any of it, let alone find words.

"Okay. I'm here if you need to." He put an arm around me and squeezed me to him. "Can I do anything?"

"I'm going to find lunch."

"Want company?"

"No, but thanks. I need to think."

"Meet you later for rafting?"

"I thought I'd skip it."

"You're not getting sick?"

"I've had enough excitement, that's all." Rafting would ramp up the powerlessness to the max.

Plus, Tanner would be there. And I could never face him again.

No, thank you.

"All right," my dad said. "You know where to meet if you change your mind. Sure you're okay?"

I stood and hugged him. "I will be. Thanks, Dad."

Across the road, I found a row of shops and restaurants. The pavement and view of a highway, no matter how scarcely traveled, made me feel closer to civilization and therefore safer.

The gift shops reminded me of shopping with Tanner. It wouldn't be as fun to explore without him.

I was heading to a café when a door opened and Dottie stepped out with her walker.

"Oh, hello, dear." She peered past me. "Where's that adorable boyfriend?"

Tanner's face was the one I thought of, which made sense—he was who she meant, the one I'd been with all week. But still, the idea came too easily.

"At the hotel," I said. "Are you enjoying Denali?"

"I love it here. It gets me every time. Makes one feel small and yet part of something bigger at the same time."

That was how I felt looking at the stars. Why couldn't I capture that here?

Dottie started down the wooden stairs from the shop to the parking lot, and I stayed at her side to help. Tanner would have lifted her up and carried her down if she'd needed it.

When she moved the walker, a clank sounded.

"Oh no." She clutched the rail with one hand, as the walker now stood lopsided.

I bent next to her, and the breeze blew sparkly streamers into my face. "A wheel fell off."

I offered an arm to help Dottie sit.

"Thank you, dear. These old bones aren't as young as they used to be."

"Let me take a look." I sat next to the front poles of the walker. The wheel had slid off the end of the axle. Rather than a bolt, it appeared to have been held in place by a simple cotter pin that extended vertically through the axle.

"I might be able to fix it, enough for you to get back to the hotel. Is your husband around?"

"He's in the room, taking a nap. He's not as social as I am. Needs more alone time, so sometimes we compromise and do things separately."

"Okay, let me think." A search of the area failed to yield the missing pin. If I could find something else that fit in the hole, I could keep the wheel in place.

The streamers continued to flutter in the breeze. They were attached by short plastic sticks jammed beneath the walker's rubber grips, but the sticks were too big for the hole.

I rummaged in my backpack, eyes catching on my LEGO stormtrooper keychain. The ring appeared to be about the right size. I slid the stormtrooper off until I held the empty ring, then slid the wheel on and pried apart the key ring. It just fit. I twisted until it was all the way through, securing the wheel. My worries from the day faded as I worked.

"That should hold for now."

Dottie clomped the walker. The wheel stayed in place. I helped her stand and watched her walk.

"It's good as new," she said. "That's lovely. Very impressive."

"Can I walk with you?"

I kept a hand on her arm as we crossed the parking lot and then the road in case my fix-it job failed. Once she was safely inside the lobby, I jogged back to the café, ordered a sandwich, and took a seat on the patio facing the highway and the endless mountains beyond it.

I was calmer and more logical now that the bear was behind me and I'd had something to focus on, a tangible problem to solve.

Which, of course, reminded me of Tanner and his comments about my future. Making things did bring me joy. When I thought about teaching, I mostly focused on the math part, the pleasure of numbers and concrete laws. And the nice, familiar schedule of a school year. The actual students appealed to me less.

Something stirred inside me, an image I'd never let myself dwell on. Myself, working at a lab or company, designing inventions that made space exploration and research possible. The idea that something I designed or helped build might go off into the cosmos. Or something I researched for outer space making a difference in everyday lives on Earth. Studying not just cruise ship engines, but spaceships.

If I considered this path, it would change my senior year. I'd have to look at new colleges, possibly switch a few classes. Start making connections, though I could bring in speakers from companies or universities for the Astronomy Club. Which would be easier, thanks to Tanner's generosity.

The feeling inside me was like the thrill of the zip line, the curiosity about the tram, the marvel of the engine room, all inone.

It wouldn't hurt to consider the idea more. I'd have to say yes to Mr. Lin.

I opened my email and stared again at the information, the fascinating speakers, tours, projects, that added to the thrill.

Before I could change my mind, I hit reply and told him that as long as my parents agreed, I was in. I didn't have to decide on my entire future right now. I could continue with my old plans if I wanted. But it wouldn't hurt to check this out.

I set my phone next to my plate and waited. For fear or regret or the desire to email Mr. Lin again and say never mind, but none of those feelings came. Just anticipation and excitement. I let those linger as I finished eating.

That done, it was time to respond to Caleb. His last two messages had said he wanted to talk and he'd been wrong. If I were him, I'd be nervous about not receiving a reply.

A voice in my head that sounded suspiciously like both Jordan and Tanner said, Good, make him sweat.

My lack of response stemmed less from a desire to torture him and more from the fact that I didn't know what to say. Getting back together by text was as terrible as breaking up in a parking lot.

If that's what I was planning to do. Was it?

One of Jordan's messages mentioned how alive I looked during this trip. Instead of opening my texts, I scrolled through my photos from the last two weeks, but also from the past year. I did look happier than I had in a long time. My smiles larger, my laughter more wild and less contained, my eyes full of joy.

I wanted to cling to that happiness. I'd liked who I was recently, not letting fear stop me, feeling strong and brave.

I lingered on a picture from Math Bowl earlier this year, when our team had won the district competition before going to state finals. Caleb and I held a trophy and smiled at each other, and I remembered being proud, happy our work had paid off, but that expression didn't reveal the same joy compared to what I'd experienced the last two weeks.

Caleb's familiar face failed to stir anything beyond fondness. His hair was shorter here. He was cute. But there was no swoop in my stomach when I saw him. Had he and I ever had that?

I'd thought I wanted someone like me: dependable, stable, studious. But had I been bored with Caleb? Maybe that was why he thought I was boring. Because I'd been going along, doing my thing, and Caleb had joined in, never challenging me.

Unlike Tanner, who stood up to me, forced me to think, stood by my side as he urged me to try new things. And I hadn't minded making changes to accommodate him. Maybe Tanner's and my differences were what made us stronger. If Dottie and her husband had learned to compromise, we could, too.

My feelings for Caleb were safe, inside-the-box feelings. Comfortable, familiar, easy. The only time he had ever surprised me was when he dumped me.

My feelings for Tanner were far more uncertain. They were ATV rides and polar plunges and wilderness hikes, risky and big and scary. I never knew what he might do or say. That made me nervous, but it also meant he was capable of making me laugh unexpectedly or see things in a new way or have experiences I might have missed out on.

Did I want to be with someone who let me settle for less than amazing in my life? Then got tired of me or blamed me when I did? Did I want to go back to the same life? I mean, yes, I enjoyed everything I did. But other than the bear, hadn't this week shown me that it wouldn't kill me to try new things? And that I might actually like them?

I sounded like Tanner.

I'd be fine without either of them. I didn't need a guy. But was it wrong to enjoy spending time with one who made me happy and brought out parts of me I didn't know existed?

It hit me, what Jordan and Tanner had been hinting at, that I hadn't been emotionally devastated by the breakup because I couldn't stand losing Caleb. I had been embarrassed. He'd hurt my pride, and I had been afraid of losing what was known and easy. But I should have missed him. Felt sad about not seeing his face, not talking to him.

The way I already felt about Tanner, and it had only been two hours since I'd seen him.

Caleb deserved more than that. He deserved more than I'd given him this year. And unlike him, I would do it right.

I picked up the phone and made a call.

"Savannah?" he answered. "Are you in Alaska?"

"Yeah. But I needed to talk to you."

"Did you get my messages?" His familiar voice was calming, but calling up his face in my mind failed to make me experience anything but mild regret.

"Why didn't we ever say I love you?" I asked.

"Whaaa…I mean, um. What?"

I spun my cup with my free hand. "We were together for nine months. I'm just wondering."

"I didn't—I don't—"

"It's okay. I don't know, either. Shouldn't that tell us something?" When he didn't say anything, I went on. "You're a great guy, Caleb. We're great math partners, and I like that we enjoy the same things. But I think we let ourselves forget that common interests isn't enough for a relationship."

After a long pause, he said, "You might be right. Asking you out seemed logical. We spent lots of time together, and we got along. But maybe romantically, that wasn't enough."

I exhaled. "I realize now that a lot of our relationship was me living the life I wanted and dragging you along. I never asked your opinions or let you make plans. That's on me. I'm sorry."

"And I am sorry for how I ended things. I really didn't mean for it to happen that way."

No hard feelings, as long as Moore the Bore didn't stick. "Friends?" I asked. "And future Math Bowl champs?"

"Definitely," he said. "Thank you, Savannah."

I disconnected the call, feeling lighter. We'd be okay. We'd go back to what we had before we dated, when we were science friends. Caleb would find a sweet, nonsarcastic girl who didn't make jokes that went over his head and didn't spend more time complaining about her nemesis than she did listening to his opinions.

I didn't want to be with someone who put me in a box. I was far too skilled at doing that to myself. I wanted someone who showed me I could break out of it then helped me do it and supported me as I did. Someone who wouldn't, as Tanner had pointed out, run away when I tried to climb back into it, but would help me be my best even when I couldn't see what that meant.

I dashed off a text to Jordan telling her I'd call her later and explain a lot. And then I ran to change.