Nonetheless, I always hold her hand as we hike. I pretend that I do it to make sure we don’t get lost, but I really just love having her close to me.
The trail is slick after yesterday’s rainfall, so we proceed slowly. By the time we get to the viewpoint, the sky is lightening. We continue to the summit and I feel thankful that the days are still long.
As we get closer to the summit, I hold back and wait for Kiara to stand next to me.
“Ready?” My voice is quiet. There’s no one around, but I don’t want to disturb the balance of this place.
She squeezes my hand in response.
One.
Two.
Three.
Together, we stride forward with our faces down. On the count of three, we raise our heads to take in the panoramic view. It’s a little habit I suggested when Kiara teased that I was seeing the view before she was. This way, we get to experience the first look together.
“Not bad, golden boy,” Kiara says.
It’s a crisp and clear morning, and the horizon hints at what will be a colorful sunrise. Kiara sits, making herself comfortable on a large expanse of rock before taking out her camera and setting up. Then, she shivers.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Should’ve brought a warmer jacket.”
I reach around my camera bag and find a to-go mug. “This’ll help.”
Kiara’s eyes light up. “Good thinking.”
Before knocking on her window this morning, I went to the kitchen and filled it with hot coffee. Fernando opened his mouth, but left his questions unasked, and simply smiled.
She takes a long swig and then curls further into her jacket, clutching the to-go mug with as much passion as she does her camera. I laugh and wrap my arms around her to keep her warm.
“You’re gonna miss the views.” She leans back against me, shamelessly stealing my body heat.
“It’s worth it. We have many mornings to chase the sunrise.”
I lie down on the rock so Kiara and I are curled together, watching the sky change colors. It’s peaceful and we don’t need to speak. Every once in a while, Kiara sits up and lifts the camera to her face. It’s an epic sunrise.
Kiara lies down after taking a photo, and she fingers the bottom of my hoodie.
I burst out laughing. “Still cold?”
“The coffee helps.” There’s a smile in her voice. “I was just thinking that I love seeing you wear hoodies and shorts. You never wear stuff like that at school.”
She trails off and her body stiffens. She’s broken an unspoken rule. We don’t talk about how things were at school, and we definitely don’t talk about how things will be when we go back. Our rivalry is an ancient story, practically a Greek Legend. The Feud of Golden Boy and Kiara the Queen.
“You gotta admit the polo shirts and slacks are a popular look.” I joke, but it doesn’t have the desired effect. Kiara is still lying uncomfortably. “Coach tells us we need to wear polo shirts. Do our hair so we look professional. It’s part of the image. But next year, I’m bringing back the hoodie.”
“Good,” Kiara says. “It’s tough for a girl to steal a polo shirt.”
I kiss the top of her head. “My hoodies are yours.”
35
Kiara
The ground moves under me and I groggily open my eyes.
“Ready?” Jonathan whispers into my ear.
I jerk awake. Somehow, between the beautiful sunrise, the early morning, and being cuddled into Jonathan’s chest, I’d fallen asleep.
“How long was I out for?” I ask. The sun is far above the peaks. I peel myself off Jonathan.
“Only a day or two.”
I punch him playfully. When he tries to block me, I leap, tackle him, and we roll in the dirt.
“I surrender!” He shouts, cradling his head. “It was only half an hour!”
“And you just let me sleep?”
He grips my wrists to stop me from attacking him. “You looked so peaceful, drooling and snoring and everything.”
In horror, I put my hand to my face before realizing he’s joking. I give him another swat and then stand up, wiping off my pants and jacket. “You think you’re so funny.”
When I look down at Jonathan, though, he’s frozen. He’s staring just behind me and motions for me to be quiet.
My heart slams in my chest. Bears?
Jonathan slowly stands, still staring at a point beyond my shoulder. His face is a mask of tense vigilance. Fear grips me and I can barely breathe.
He carefully walks towards me, side-stepping around me to get between me and the creature — whatever it is.
Very, very slowly, I turn around to see what he’s staring at.
On the mountainside just beyond, there’s a beautiful white mountain goat with three baby goats. I gasp and then hold my breath. The adult goat is looking at us, simultaneously bored and cautious.
There’s the wildlife shot.
Slowly, I raise my camera to my face, capturing the sight of these four goats in the morning sunlight.
The group of goats strides along the rocks and around the corner, disappearing from sight.
Jonathan grabs my hand. “Unbelievable.”
We make our way back to the trail, treading carefully down the mountain as the path is still slick. My stomach is in a ball of excitement thinking about how amazing the morning was. I’m going through the photos, wanting to relive it.
I click onto a sunrise photo. “This one’s great. Check it out!”
For the shot, I’d zoomed in on the peaks across the lake and then used a darker setting on the camera to bring out the warm tones. The image perfectly contrasts the cool and warm features of the scene.
I lean towards Jonathan to show him the picture, and I immediately lose my footing.
The trail slides out from beneath me.
My stomach lurches.
I fly through the air.
Jonathan whips around, catches me before I hit the ground. “Didn’t I tell you not to fall? Or drop your camera?”
“I believe you told me it was very expensive,” I say. “But it’s fine. I wasn’t really falling. Just testing your reflexes.”
He laughs and stands me up straight in front of him, his beautiful blue eyes gazing into mine.
I think I’m in love with you.
My heart stops.
Freaked, I jump out of his arms.
“Anyway, check it out!” My words tumble out as I try to shake off the feeling from moments ago.
Jonathan checks out the photo over my shoulder, his eyeing growing wide. “Garcia… that is really, really good.”
“You are talking to a Queen here.” I beam with pride, cradling the camera close to me.
“You should try again,” he says.
“What?”
“The Glacier Journal. Send that photo to them.”
I walk down the trail, stammering. “I don’t think I have what they’re looking for.”
I was definitely not expecting him to say that. After my rejection letter, I never want to contact them again. They probably know me as that girl who takes lifeless and dull photos. Ugh, what a reputation.
Jonathan takes my hand. “It’s an awesome shot, Kiara. What do you have to lose?”
Optimism fills his eyes, and it warms my heart that he believes in me this much.
“My dignity? My self-respect? More of my reputation?”
“Can’t lose what you never had,” he says, grinning. He catches my hand before I can swat him. Stupid soccer player reflexes. “I’m serious,” he says.
“About my lack of dignity?”
“About how good that photo is. I’d buy the Journal on that photo alone.”
I smile warmly. I’ve never had this kind of support before… It feels nice. Even though I’ll no doubt get rejected, part of me wants to see the world like Jonathan sees it. Endless opportunities, everywhere.
“Okay, fine,” I say, rolling my eyes. “You know I can’
t say no to that golden boy charm.”
He leans down to kiss me, picking me up and wrapping me in his arms. As his lips meet mine, I can’t deny it:
I love Jonathan Wright.
36
Jonathan
“Yes!” Kiara dances in a circle as the last striped ball falls cleanly into a pocket.
She blows on the top of her pool cue like it’s on fire and then walks around the table to stand next to me.
“Your butt’s mine, golden boy.” She grins and bumps her hip against mine. She bends over the table to hit the 8-ball and I hold my breath.
Clack.
The 8-ball narrowly misses the corner pocket.
Kiara glares at it.
“What was it you were saying about my butt, Garcia?” I ask with a sweet smile as I line up the cue to hit my last solid ball. I wait a moment, the perfect build-up of anticipation, before hitting the six ball into the pocket directly in front of her.
She rolls her eyes, leaning forward on the table. The game is heating up. The table is entirely cleared and only the 8-ball is left.
I chalk the end of my cue. The 8-ball is sitting against the far rail. The angle will be difficult, but not impossible.
“Scared, golden boy?”
I snort. “Of you?”
I bend over the table and take a deep breath.
I tap the ball with the end of the cue.
The cue ball clacks against the 8-ball, which rolls pathetically to a stop.
Kiara’s turn. With a confident smirk, she grabs her pool cue and sits on the edge of the table, arranging the cue behind her back. Very smooth.
She lines up the final shot, and I smile looking at her concentrated expression. No matter what Kiara is doing, her face tells the whole story. I wish I could get a photo of her now.
It’s the middle of July and the days at the Inn are filled with magic. There’s another garden party tonight, and Kiara and I are dressed accordingly. Her hair is tied back into a ponytail and she’s wearing one of her colorful dresses. She looks beautiful, as usual.
Without appearing to put an ounce of effort in, Kiara knocks the 8-ball into the pocket, winning the game. She does a little dance around the table.
I pretend to break my cue stick over my knee before putting it away.
She laughs and circles her arms around my neck. “Someone owes me a secret.”
On our breaks and when guests aren’t around, we’ve started playing pool in the games room. Kiara thought it’d be fun to raise the stakes and have the loser share a secret.
I have no complaints. I’ve learned that Kiara broke her arm while trying to walk in her mom’s heels as a kid and not when she was skateboarding. I’ve learned that she loves mac and cheese because it’s the only thing her father made when she was young. And I’ve learned that Sebastian, her cat at home, is the love of her life, and that no matter what I say or do, I will be a distant second. At best.
Kiara is constantly surprising me. I had no idea what to expect when I suggested we play a game of pool a month ago, but Kiara has proven herself to be a quick learner. She went from spilling all of her secrets to asking for mine in a few weeks.
I came prepared today. I have a secret that I’m excited to share with her.
“Okay.” I’m lost in her eyes, as usual. “So, I’ve been thinking a lot lately...”
Her eyes change from blissfully curious to suddenly serious. Does she know what I’m about to say?
I exhale quickly, finally getting the words out. “I want to go to photography school.”
Kiara laughs, a light and melodic sound. “That’s an awesome idea!”
“Yeah,” I say, feeling shy. “I’ve been thinking about it and I want to pursue photography as a career. It’s because of you. You make it all seem possible.”
The words rush out, and as I speak the truth, I feel lighter. I can finally see the world clearly and I know my path. Kiara and I sway back and forth to a silent tune, a melody we both dance to.
“I’m so happy to hear that,” Kiara says, her excitement clear on her face. “You were meant to do photography.”
“You think so?”
“You do have the beanie for it.”
“The hat makes the artist,” I say, laughing. Kiara always tells me the truth. If she doubted my ability, she'd say so.
“My grandpa was the only one who supported me doing photography. He was such a happy, optimistic guy.” I glance at my camera, sitting on the edge of the pool table. “He’s the one who got me the camera.”
“He must’ve been a wonderful person.”
“The best,” I say. “That’s why I skipped the game last fall to take photos. He always made me feel that I shouldn’t be ashamed of what I want. I wish you could’ve met him.”
Our swaying slows as Kiara stands on her tip-toes to give me a kiss. The air around us feels magnetic and I never want to let her go. Realization strikes—
I love her.
I’ve wanted to tell her for days now, but I’ve never been sure about the moment.
A commotion by the door causes us to jump apart. Anaya flings the door to the games room wide open, dragging Wes inside by the hand. “Okay, you two lovebirds, let’s get moving. Other people want to play.”
Without an ounce of concern for interrupting a tender moment, Anaya shoos us towards the porch.
Kiara and I break down in laughter, and I give Wes a fist-bump as we leave the games room.
The interruption was for the best; I don’t want to scare her off by telling her too early.
37
Kiara
Wes and Anaya have taken over the games room. I’ve noticed how cute they’ve been lately and I’m happy to give them the space. As Jonathan and I step onto the porch, he pokes me in the side and then bolts into the garden.
“I have one more thing to tell you!” He shouts over his shoulder as he runs. “But you have to catch me first!”
I dash after him down the stairs, my head still spinning with excitement from his confession. Jonathan Wright wants to go to photography school. Jonathan. Wright.
It’s been a month and a half since we arrived at the Inn and I’m shocked by how much things have changed. The weeks have gone by in a blur and I’ve enjoyed work more than I could have imagined. At the end of the day, we have dinners together and then spend the evenings or afternoons exploring the grounds around the Inn.
Jonathan has this unbelievable ability to make any task fun. If I was a black and white still from the 50s, he’d be a colorful, wild image from the 70s. I never could have imagined how much fun living could be.
With him, it all comes so easily. Whether we’re relaxing in the hammocks or climbing to the Legacy summit for sunrise, Jonathan and I are attached at the hip.
We did a very poor job hiding it from the other staffers, as Nath so loudly demonstrated one morning not long ago.
“Ki, I told you! Love and hate, two sides of the same coin,” Nath said. I remembered one of the first things she said to me when I arrived at the Inn — that she didn’t like her husband initially.
I blushed and scurried from the room, dragging a confused Jonathan with me.
What I’ve enjoyed most is sharing my passion for photography. When Jonathan arrived, I expected him to be terrible. I believed he didn’t care about his position and that this whole summer was a big joke to him.
But he took it seriously. He’s a fast learner, and I know he’ll do great at photography school.
Even better?
My photos are improving, too. Enjoying the moments is helping me capture them.
I run as fast as I can and almost catch Jonathan.
He darts into the empty gazebo.
I fly around the corner, wrap my arms around his waist, and almost drag him to the ground. “You owe me a secret.”
“A secret? Or is it more of a question? Hmm.”
“A secret question? I’m intrigued.”
He unwraps me from his waist and
holds my hands tenderly. For a brief moment, he looks everywhere but my eyes, but then his gaze settles on me.
“You are, without a doubt, one of the most intelligent, inspiring, beautiful people I’ve ever known. You have changed my life.”
My heart races and I blush furiously.
Jonathan takes a deep breath. “And now, I want to know…”
My heart is racing and my stomach is full of butterflies. What is he going to say?
“Will you be my girlfriend?”
My heart flutters in my chest, but I shrug like it’s nothing. “Maybe.”
Jonathan waits, his face anxious.
“I need you to promise me something first,” I say. “And it’s very important.”
“Anything.”
I pause, letting him sweat a little. “You let me have the bigger side of the hammock.”
He lets out a tremendous sigh of relief. “I thought it was serious.”
“Oh, it’s deadly serious.”
He laughs, takes me in my arms, and spins me in a circle. “For you? Anything.”
His finger traces the side of my face, and he tilts my chin back. He kisses me, and I feel like I might explode with happiness.
I don’t want the kiss to end, but real life intrudes.
“Jonathan! Kiara! We need you!”
We break apart, and I’m laughing harder than before at the thought of an angry Delia coming on the warpath.
Together, we head out of the gazebo, strolling back to the Legacy Inn, our hands locked tight.
38
Jonathan
“If you’re dating Kiara the Queen, does that make you King Jonathan?”
I read Troy’s email and roll my eyes. I told him in my last message that Kiara and I are officially together. Though I still haven’t mentioned why I’m here at the Inn, I’ve told him why he should stop using the nickname.
I write a quick response to Troy, stressing that the nickname is old news and asking about things in Edendale. According to his last message, my secret is still safe — no one in Edendale suspects that I skipped out on Momentum.
Chasing Sunrise: A Sweet YA Enemies-to Lovers Romance (Inn for the Summer) Page 11
