Page 42 of One Wrong Move

She opens the car door, rushing out to the parking lot. There’s color on her cheeks and a wide smile on her face. For a moment, I just lean against the side of the car and look at her.

“You like surprises,” I say out loud.

Harper’s smile turns to me. “Of course I do. I know some people struggle with them, but I never have. Come on. Let’s try this. Did you call ahead?”

“Yes. An instructor is waiting for us.”

She’s already halfway to the field where targets are lined up at equal distances. A small wooden building stands at the edge of it, and a few people are milling about. One of them is getting into a shooting stance.

“Nate,” Harper calls. Her voice is impatient and excited. “Come on.”

I lock the car and try to hide my smile. “Coming.”

Our instructor’s name is Calvin. He’s forty-eight and loves archery. All of this he makes explicitly clear in his little introduction, showing us how to hold the bow and explaining the physics of the draw. The bows are made out of light metal, and mine weighs almost nothing in my hand.

Harper is like a sponge beside me. I can feel it, her soaking up everything the instructor says.

When it’s finally our turn, Calvin comes up beside us, pointing out the individual targets for us to hit.

Above us, the sky has turned an even darker shade of gray.

“You go first,” I tell Harper

She looks at me over her shoulder with a small smile. The black headband she’s wearing is pushing her wild curls away from her face, but one has escaped, falling over her forehead.

She’s gripping the bow tight. “Watch me be victorious,” she says.

I grin. “Go for it.”

She releases the arrow. It flies straight, hitting the outer ring of the target that’s been pinned to a large bale of hay.

“I hit it!”

“Sure did,” I say.

She’s grinning at Calvin, too, and quickly nocks another arrow. Calvin corrects her form a few times, and then she’s shooting at a steady pace for a beginner.

I shoot a few times while Harper's back is turned and she’s focused on her target. Calvin gives me an approving nod and moves off to the side.

“I’ll be just over there, should you need me,” he says.

Harper looks at me over her shoulder. “Wanna make a bet?”

“Oh, you’re feeling that confident now, are you?”

“This is so much more fun than I imagined. Look, I’ve only missed the circle twice.”

“Very impressive.”

She looks over at my target and sees the three arrows embedded in a semicircle at the outer edge. “You’re not looking so bad yourself, Connovan.”

“High praise.”

She gets into position again, her feet shoulder-width apart, her shoulders down, arms taut. Firing, she hits another arrow in the outermost circle.

We’re alone on the range now, and, in the background, I hear Calvin chatting to someone in low tones. I take a small step closer to her. “Yes, let’s make a bet, Harp.”

She nods, her curls bouncing. “I already know what I want if I win.”

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