Eyes Unveiled

by Crystal Walton

Trevor dropped the flyer onto our seat. “You’re going to love this place, Em. Forget studying for a change. Let go. Remember how to be a kid with the rest of us.”

  Riley’s knee bumped into mine. “Chase shapes in the clouds,” he whispered from the side of his mouth.

  With him there, maybe the clouds wouldn’t be out of reach.

  Parked on abandoned Highway 14, A. J. and Trevor scuffled over who beat whom. From this far off, the Coyote Wall resembled a columnar castle perched on the edge of a mountainside—captivating and terrifying all at once.

  Becky scuttled up beside me and buttoned the last two notches on her knit sweater. “You didn’t bring a jacket? It’s gonna get cold once the sun goes down, especially up top.”

  Riley started to unzip his coat, but A. J. flung his hand up. “I got this, bro.” A film of gravel dust followed his jog from his trunk to my side. He held a leather jacket in the air for me to slip on.

  Swallowed whole, I curled my hands in the excess protruding past my fingertips.

  “You’re cute in my clothes.” He slid a brown woolen beanie over his ears, his gaze never leaving mine, and eased his thumb across my now-warm cheek. “Come on, Rosy, Trevor’s got a whole night planned for us.”

  “A night that’s waiting for us to get a move on.” Ashlea laced her hands around A. J.’s arm and tugged him forward.

  I could’ve hugged her for intercepting A. J. before he could put his arm around me or something. Was he trying to make a move, or was that just another testosterone rush?

  Along the slender dirt trail, Riley kept his face forward, jaw flexed. “You, uh,” he said without turning his head, “you and A. J. together?”

  The front of my sneaker snagged an overgrown root. I caught my balance, resituated A. J.’s jacket, and considered hiding inside it. Or maybe chucking it back at A. J. “No, just friends. Acquaintances, really.” Same as us, right? Two crows cawed on their way past us, like some kind of omen warning me to bury the question trekking up my throat. “Would it matter if we were?” Way to go, Em.

  The uneven terrain had nothing on his smile. Silly, nonsensical butterflies.

  He edged close enough for the scent of his skin and cologne to devour the last of my levelheaded reflexes. His fingers grazed my neck as he folded down my collar. “You tell me.”

  That would require speaking. And breathing.

  Jaycee jogged down the hill and looped her arm through mine. “C’mon, slowpokes, everyone’s waiting on you.” Ahead of Riley, she gave me an operation rescue wink.

  Why did she have to be so good at the job I assigned her?

  Trevor corralled us in front of a dense forest of white oaks with spindly branches twisting toward the open sky. Something about the aged trees made it feel like we were about to infringe upon the sacredness of an enchanted forest.

  Trevor rubbed his hands together. “Okay, guys. There are several trails leading to the top of the cliff. Let’s split up into three groups and make this a little friendly competition.”

  Leave it to Trevor to peer into a haven of ancient beauty and see an opportunity for an adrenaline rush.

  “Does it always have to be a competition?”

  “Emma . . .” He had a gift for drenching my name in the most mollifying tone possible.

  “I know, I know. It’ll be fun,” I said in my best Trevor-voice. Why did I bother asking? “Fine, but you and Jaycee need a chaperone. Ashlea, you better team up with them so we have a ride home tonight.”

  Trevor threw me a pitiful pout of innocence worthy of the immediate reaction it solicited. “Aight. Laugh it up. We’ll see who’s still laughing when the three of us are waiting for ten minutes at the top before you finally find the way out.”

  Becky skipped forward. “I’ll go with Riley.”

  Riley turned from me to her and back again.

  A. J. strolled up and dipped his shoulder into mine. “That leaves you and me, Emma.”

  Of course it did. Maybe a race was a good idea, even if it meant partnering with A. J. I could use a diversion to keep my mind off Riley. Especially if it gave me the chance to show up Trevor. “We’ll see you fools in the dust.”

  The corner of Riley’s mouth followed his arced brow. “Trash talker, huh?”

  I laughed. “Fun facts you’d never guess about me.”

  “I’m learning something new every day.”

  A. J. toed the line next to him. “Ready to demolish the competition?” he asked me without severing eye contact with Riley.

  Jaycee elbowed Trevor. He flung his hands in the air to signal the start of the race. “On three everyone. One . . . two . . . three.”

  I took two steps for every one of A. J.’s. “I’ll try not to slow you down.”

  “You just concentrate on making sure we don’t end up in circles.”

  “Too bad I don’t have red lipstick to mark the rocks.” I chuckled, doubting A. J.’d follow my movie reference.

  “At least it’s probably safe to say we wouldn’t have any creatures flipping around the arrows.”

  “You’ve seen Labyrinth?”

  He peeked behind him. “You sound surprised.”

  “Um, to be honest, yeah. Not what I would’ve expected.”

  “Oh, c’mon, Em . . . David Bowie . . . big hair . . . cheesy music . . . it’s a classic.”

  He kept breaking every stereotype I tried to place on him.

  Still laughing, we squeezed through the maze of narrow canyons and winding passageways and toppled out of the exit with the hope of being the first to arrive.

  Wouldn’t be that lucky.

  Beside Jaycee, Trevor lounged on a large boulder with his ankles crossed and hands behind his head. All he was missing was an emery board to pass the time. He exaggerated a yawn. “Glad you guys could finally make it.”

  “Nice.” I flicked a twig at him. “Seriously, Jae, help a friend out here. At least try to tame his gloating.”

  Jaycee hooked an arm around his neck and pecked his cheek with a proud kiss. “Sorry, Em. When you’re just that good, you’re just that good.”

  I bent over my shoulder to gag.

  “Wow. The view’s amazing,” Riley said from behind us.

  I spun around and instantly measured how close Becky was to him. She skipped toward the rest of us and linked arms with Ashlea, leaving Riley at the edge of the trail opening. Alone. A gust of wind stripped my initial pang of jealousy down to a shudder of reproof. Stop letting yourself go there. Friends. Nothing more. Get it already.

  “Come check this out, Em.” Jaycee waved me toward her and Trevor.

  Riley wasn’t exaggerating. The altitude swept us into a panoramic view of the Columbia River under a painted sky as vibrant as the meadow of wildflowers we’d passed on our way up.

  I leaned into Trevor’s bulky shoulder, stunned by how he managed to time our ascent to the top of the mountain with the sunset. “Not bad.”

  He rocked his backpack into my side. “The night’s still young—”

  A shrill gasp drew all of our attention toward Ashlea cradled in the crook of A. J.’s arm, her face a sheet of white against her fiery hair blowing in the wind.

  “It’s okay,” A. J. said to the rest of us. “She tripped, that’s all. Standing this close to the edge of a few-hundred-foot-drop can unnerve anyone.”

  The wooed look on Ashlea’s face complemented the chivalry on A. J.’s. He continued to guard the edge of the cliff even after the dust settled. Trevor hugged Jaycee to his chest and wrapped the sides of his jacket around her arms. And Riley humored Becky with a game of hacky sack using a pinecone.

  Standing amidst my friends, gratefulness swelled. They weren’t like the guys I was used to. The ones who pretended to care to get what they really wanted. These three couldn’t help but be genuine. Maybe some mamas still knew how to raise their boys right.

  My walk with Riley around campus rushed to mind again. His transparency with me, how he related to the things I wrestled to put into words, t
he way he stirred feelings I hadn’t experienced in other relationships. Could things be different with the right guy?

  A gust of brisk air ripped across the cliff and poured down the inside of my jacket. I flipped up the collar, zipped it the rest of the way, and clung to the last glimpses of daylight bowing to an early autumn evening.

  “Come on, guys, the fun’s not over yet.” Trevor hopped in the air to draw attention to his backpack and whatever mystery it held inside. “I pulled a few strings and got permission to have a campfire here in the park. We can stay as late as we want. My buddy even set up a fire pit for us.”

  Riley caught the pinecone in one hand and snapped his head in Trevor’s direction. “Wait a sec, you know someone who oversees this state park?”

  “Trevor knows everybody,” I said. “You learn not to be surprised when he has some kind of bizarre connection.”

  He tossed the pinecone and caught it again. “I’ll have to remember that.”

  “Yeah, Cody was really cool about it,” Trevor said. “But you might not want to mention it to anyone else. I don’t want to get him in trouble.”

  Jaycee and I exchanged a glance of reservation, but Trevor drooped his weighted arms across our shoulders and lugged us forward before we could protest.

  Becky stopped in front of us at the edge of the pit and covered her mouth. “Aw, Trevor, this was so sweet of your friend.”

  Cody had outlined a fire pit with four wooden benches. A pile of long, thin branches rested against the one closest to us. Trevor dug out a book of matches from his bag and set the pre-built fire ablaze. Blanketed in the seclusion of the mountain, under a gorgeous night sky, it was hard not to mimic Becky’s bubbling-over gushing.

  A series of burning ashes launched into the air with a loud pop and floated around us like fireflies. Becky and I eased forward until steam rose from the soles of our sneakers. Under a moon outranking the glow of the flames, the night could’ve been a vignette extracted from a score of childhood summers with Dad.

  “There’s something about campfires, isn’t there?”

  A. J. tossed a handful of pine needles into the pit. “You had campfires in California?”

  “Why does everyone assume all of California feels exactly like Los Angeles? You’d be surprised how chilly it gets in San Francisco.”

  A. J. raised his hands. “Easy, cowgirl.”

  I smiled in spite of myself. “To be honest, most of my campfire memories are actually from Lake Tahoe. My family spent a couple of weeks at my uncle’s lake house every fall and summer.”

  Riley sat back, considered me a moment. “That would explain your love of the outdoors.”

  His attentive observation magnified the heat sprawling over my face. I bit into my s’more, looked away.

  A. J. passed the bag of marshmallows to Ashlea. “Should’ve brought your guitar, Em.” He flicked a satisfied glance at Riley’s surprised expression. “Oh, she didn’t tell you she plays?”

  A chunk of my s’more stopped halfway down my throat.

  chapter seven

  Falling

  “Aw, man, I should’ve thought of that.” Trevor stretched a gooey string of melted marshmallow from his mouth. “You and Riley could’ve had your showdown right here.”

  Jaycee poked Trevor with her stick.

  “Ow, what’d I say?”

  Please tell me they weren’t actually having this conversation? I unzipped A. J.’s jacket, tugged the collar away from my rapidly tightening throat, and braced myself for Riley’s deluge of questions about why I hadn’t mentioned my guitar playing to him.

  None came.

  He set his stick across his lap, his focus rivaling the intensity of the fire. “What inspires your music?”

  No one had ever asked me that before. He scooted forward on the bench. An honest desire to connect with another musician’s heart poured through his eyes and overrode all the questions he was more than entitled to ask.

  Except, I wasn’t a musician. Not like him. Yet the way he looked at me, I almost believed it didn’t matter.

  “My dad,” I answered. “I’ve played off and on since I was eleven. He gave me lessons growing up, but, um, I wasn’t exactly the best student. He never gave up on me, though. Even when I did.” I stared into the fire and into memories charred with loss. “I picked it up again a few years ago. Playing . . .”

  “Makes you feel close to him,” Riley said.

  I managed to nod. It’s like there wasn’t any part of my heart he didn’t understand.

  Tears edged nearer and burned in my throat with every swallow. I gripped the bench on either side of my legs. The deep grooves in the wood overflowed with the pain of losing Dad.

  Riley’s gaze met mine with clear perception and then darted around the group. “Hey, Becky, why don’t you do that impression of Dean Scott you were showing me on the trail?”

  Everyone followed Riley’s intended distraction.

  “Thank you,” I mouthed across the circle to him.

  He dipped his chin, and my heart slipped a little further through my walls.

  Ashlea peered into the sky. “Wow, check out the stars, guys.”

  Out this far away from any light pollution, the sky’s clarity made the stars feel close enough to touch. Just like at my uncle’s lake house. “Whenever I see the sky like this, it reminds me of the bigness of it all. That I’m just a small piece of the puzzle, you know?”

  While everyone surveyed the heavens, Riley kept his eyes on me, as though what he saw across the fire captured him more than a breathtaking sky ever could. What was he thinking about?

  Trevor’s cell lit up with a text message. “Time to roll, guys,” he said.

  We started our descent following the edge of the mountain. I had to hand it to Trev. He knew how to pick out adventures. I looked over my shoulder at Riley. “When was the last time you spent a Friday night scaling the talus slopes of old volcano rock?”

  “Have to say, this might be a fir—”

  The rock under my foot rolled off the edge, taking me and the ending to Riley’s sentence with it. The trail disappeared above me. I clawed at the mountainside. Dust filled my nose, my mouth. Jagged rock fragments poured into my socks, swallowing my ankles deeper into the mouth of the mountain the harder I strained to keep from sliding any farther.

  I couldn’t regain my balance.

  Couldn’t breathe.

  No air.

  No sound.

  And for a second, I thought I heard Dad’s voice.

  Riley caught my arm and anchored me in place. Adrenaline and paralysis ripped through my muscles. My pulse hammered against my eardrums, alternating with my friends’ shouting until every noise dissolved but the single sound of Riley’s assurance.

  “Emma, look at me. I’ve got you. Give me your other hand.” His grasp tightened around my wrist. Strength and masculinity teemed in the raised muscles on his forearms as he towed me up to the top of the cliff in a single motion.

  Clouds of dirt stirred underneath our feet. He held on to me, hands pressed tight around my back, in no hurry to let me go. I kept my cheek on his chest and his coat clenched in my fingers. “Thank you.”

  His heart raced beneath my ear, his breath and whiskers over my hair. I raised my head but froze when his lips hovered above mine. Neither of us moved.

  “Emma!” Jaycee flew toward us.

  Riley let me go. His face creased as he turned away. This must’ve been what Megan’s roommate meant about feeling like a breakable piece of china.

  Jaycee clobbered me in a hug. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

  “I’m good. Really.” I waved her off. “We should keep moving.”

  A. J. bounded forward. “Maybe I should carry her.”

  “Don’t even think about it.” I backed up. “The last thing we need is both of us tumbling over the side.”

  Ashlea clasped A. J.’s hand. “She’s right. It’s dangerous. Maybe we should walk side by side, watch each othe
r’s back.”

  A. J. resisted Ashlea’s tug. “You sure you don’t need—?”

  Riley stepped beside me. “I got this, bro,” he said with the same cocky tone A. J. had used on him earlier.

  A. J.’s jaw flinched, but Ashlea managed to nudge him forward before he could respond.

  We eased the rest of the way down. Riley stayed by my side, his pinky grazing mine, ready to move at the slightest indication I needed him. With the electricity running between us, it was going to be a long ride home. At least, for me.

  The woodsy smell of smoke left on our clothes filled the car and clouded my senses. Being with Riley tonight awakened a desire to know him more—his music, his passion, his thoughts. I watched the dark sky stream above the tree line outside my window and twisted my necklace around my finger, my promise to Dad twisting in my heart. Did that promise have room for love? A love worth opening up myself to?

  Riley’s coat crinkled against the car’s leather interior. I turned and followed the moonlight draped across the backseat onto his body. The same electricity from earlier held us both in place.

  Jaycee’s door opened. I jumped and almost hit my head on the ceiling. How was I supposed to be friends with someone I couldn’t even handle sharing the same seat with?

  Ashlea met A. J. as he circled around his front bumper behind us. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “My pleasure. I’ll never pass up the chance to beat Trev in a race.”

  Trevor hopped up over the curb. “Keep talking smack, and we’re gonna end up on the courts tonight.” He hooked Jaycee in his arms and reclined against the car door. “Hey, Em, come train with A. J. and me in the gym for a few weeks, and you might just fit into that jacket.”

  The jacket. I shucked my arms out of the lined sleeves and returned it to A. J., being sure to give Trevor a good whack in the face with it in the process.

  “I’d let you hang onto it,” A. J. said. “But I don’t know. I kinda like being able to take care of you.” His dimples sank so deeply in his cheeks, they probably touched each other on the inside.

  My heels dropped off the curb. I gave serious consideration to slinking down the storm drain beside me, but I caught Riley’s shirtsleeve instead and made a beeline toward his silver Civic parked a few spaces down from the other vehicles.