8. Jack

CHAPTER EIGHT

jack

Sweat slides down my back as I shift my pack. It's been too long since I went hiking, and I'm already starting to feel it. Which is bad because we've only gone two miles and still have a long way to go today. Plus even more tomorrow. I used to go hiking all the time in college. In all honesty, it was because Maggie loved it so much when we were teenagers, so when I needed to blow off some steam, it felt like a good thing to try. I ended up loving it.

I just haven't had a ton of time lately to visit the mountains as often as I'd like.

My mind loops back around to the kiss last night. I can still feel Maggie's anger and how soft her lips were compared to the roughness of her kiss. I know I probably shouldn't, but I want to kiss her again. Properly. No half-second kissing. A real kiss that will knock her socks off. I should have done it back in high school, but I was too chicken.

And now she hates me.

"You still like her," Graham says, falling into step with me. The women are about thirty feet in front of us, and I've been bringing up the rear with my slower pace. I don't reply to Graham.

"Come on," he tries again. "Talk to me about it or it's going to eat you alive."

"You sound like a therapist."

He scoffs. "I'm no therapist. But I do pay attention. There's tension between you and Maggie. What's the story?"

I sigh since I don't think he's going to let this go. "We've known each other since we were kids. We pushed each other to do better in high school. She's the reason I was valedictorian—I barely beat her out of it. She seems mad though, and that must be why."

"You think that's why?"

"I don't know what else it could be. We were always playing pranks on each other, but they were always harmless. Like putting Silly String in each other's lockers or Jell-O in our gym shoes."

"You put Jell-O in her shoes?"

"No! She put Jell-O in my gym shoes."

Graham lets out a hearty laugh. "Sounds like she can stand up to you then. She's good for you." He pauses for a second. "Your dad is kind of intense. You might be working too much."

I look up from the trail below my feet at the sudden change in conversation. The trees we're walking through right now are so green. I didn't realize how much I've missed the mountains until now. "I'm not working too much." That's the biggest lie I've ever told.

"He told me you're up for a promotion, for your own office. And that you work a minimum of sixty hours a week, but usually more. Which is why you needed this trip."

"I didn't realize you and my dad talked so much."

"We don't, but like I said, I pay attention. When he called and asked about the hiking trip, he told me more than he probably realized. He's like my dad; they're intense and work-driven. If you're not careful, it's going to ruin your relationship with him, if it hasn't already." Graham and his dad don't have the greatest relationship these days. I don't know all the details, because I was pretty young when everything went down, but I know their relationship is strained and it's because of how hard he pushed Graham to work.

But Dad and I don't have that same relationship. We're us, and it's different.

"It's slightly ironic to me that my father is the one who told me I needed a break from work and forced me to come on this hike, but he also gets mad when I don't work sixty-hour weeks like him."

"That's not healthy, you know."

"It pays well." Plus, I don't have many friends or any women in my life. So it's not like working this much is impacting my life. I've got a nice little nest egg growing, too.

"Do you like it?"

My heart stops just like it does every time someone asks me this question. Growing up, I always said I wanted to work with my dad. His job looked so glamorous when I was a kid, but I don't actually love marketing. I like the money, and for now that's enough. I'm quiet for too long, though.

"So, you don't." It's not a question.

"Does anyone like their work?"

We step over a log that's fallen across the trail and I take a sip of my water.

"I do."

"Well, that's different—you get to spend all your time in nature. Plus, you're in your late thirties. You get to do what you love now because you paid your dues. We don't all get to follow our dreams."

"But if you could, what would you do?" Graham's question is innocent enough, but my answer lodges in my throat. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. Just think about it. The mountains have a funny way of telling us what we should do with our lives. Maybe you'll get the courage you need on this trip."

I shake my head. "I think you have way too much faith in the mountains."

He smiles. "I don't think you have enough."

The sun is high in the sky when we stop for our first official rest. We've had a handful of smaller pit stops, but this is the first time we've actually stopped for more than five minutes.

I sink onto a nearby fallen tree and stretch my legs.

"How you feelin'?" Graham plops onto the log beside me.

"I'm feeling like I wish I'd been hiking more in the past year. I think I've gone, like, once. Not exactly ideal when you're going to hike to the top of a fourteener."

He nods, face solemn. "Let me know if it's ever too much. I don't want you getting altitude sickness."

"I'll be fine." At least, I hope I will be. I'll get through this hike even if it kills me. I sneak a look at Maggie, who quickly glances away and pulls open her pack. I look back down, because I know what she's about to find and watching it happen in real time feels like confessing. We always watched our pranks unfold from a distance in high school, and being just a few feet away feels too intimate.

But her voice has me looking back at her a few seconds later. "What in the world?" Maggie pulls rock after rock out of her pack. I mean, if you can even call them rocks. They're more like pebbles. I bite my lip.

I can't believe she didn't notice before now. Her pack had to have been heavier than when she put it on last night. When I came out of the bathroom to find her and Fiona completely asleep, I couldn't help myself. I had to get her back for the salt in my water.

"Rocks?" She tosses one in my direction, and it lands a few inches away from my feet. "Seriously?"

"Rocks?" Fiona's glare might just kill me. "Are you trying to kill the poor woman?"

"Who said it was me?" Maybe playing innocent is the way to go—that's how Maggie and I always did it back in high school. She tries to hide her smile. Yup, playing innocent was definitely the way to go. Plus, it was only a handful of pebbles. It's not like it would have made a gigantic difference in her pack.

"Who else would it have been?" Fiona frowns.

"It's okay, Fee." Maggie pats her friend on the leg. I clench my fist. I should not be wishing that it was me she's touching. "It was totally harmless."

"Harmless?" Fiona asks, her voice rising. "We're doing a fifteen-mile hike right now. Adding more weight than necessary to your pack isn't harmless."

"It's only been like four miles," Maggie laughs. She catches my eye again, and there's a twinkle in her eye. It's mischievous. War is on—at least, I hope that's what she's thinking. "They're out now, and I'm eating a snack. See, already my pack is way lighter."

She tilts her chin up at me, a gesture of approval. I respond with the same gesture. This game is officially on, and I'm totally okay with that, because it means Maggie's got her eyes on me. Whether she planned on it or not, she's paying attention to me. And I know, because I haven't been able to stop paying attention to her.