Page 22 of Love Never Happens with your Brother’s Best Friend

“Scary,” Brodie says quietly.

“You’re scared?” I stop what I’m doing to face the well-built, muscle-bound football star.

“Not in a Blair Witch kind of way.” Brodie laughs. “At least not yet… Ask me that question again when it gets dark.” He changes his tone to something more thoughtful. “I’ve been living in a world where my every move is documented. On full view.”

“I know. You are on all channels at all times.” I put a tea bag in my mug. “You’re pretty hard to avoid.”

“You’ve been trying to avoid me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Ah, look. The water’s boiling.” I deflect Brodie’s question and turn off the gas. “Where’s your mug? Let’s have tea.”

Brodie walks to the tent and rifles noisily through his pack, eventually locating his camping mug which he holds up like a trophy. Then he joins me again on the bench in the shelter. I drop a tea bag into Brodie’s mug and pour in some steaming water. Then I pour some water into my mug and set the pot down.

“Sorry. I don’t have milk or sugar. But it’s mint, so generally, milk and sugar are not required,” I say forgetting for a moment that Brodie is annoying. In fact, he’s not flirting with me anymore or trying to be a big shot. He’s being real. And vulnerable. And my protective spikey exterior softens. Slightly.

“Well, that’s alright. I don’t generally have milk or sugar,” Brodie says with a shy smile. “In fact, I don’t generally drink tea. But this is a day of firsts, so, cheers. Here’s to life in the wild.”

“It’s one night, Brodie.” I raise my mug before drinking. “I’m sure you’ll survive.”

We drink our tea in relative silence, listening and enjoying the tranquility, when a rabbit appears from the undergrowth to nibble the grass in the clearing. Brodie watches, perfectly still. Then he turns to face me, holding his tea mug in both hands. His eyes shine with wonder and delight and I feel as if we are kids again.

“Hey. It’s a rabbit,” Brodie whispers close to my ear.

Chapter 12

Brodie

It hit me, suddenly, and with the full force of a hurricane: I am spending the night in the forest on a mountain. Alone. Only Dylan knows I’m here. I have no phone signal. It’s too late to go back. I’m stuck. With Rita.

Hooray! I’m stuck on a mountain in a forest with Rita for a whole night. Alone. I need to put a cap on my excitement. Curb my enthusiasm. I grip the wooden bench in the shelter, stare straight ahead, and breathe slow and deep. I feel as excited and free as I did on that last day of school when we all ran to the river.

Rita pours boiling water into my camping mug. The string of the organic mint teabag is looped around the handle held in place with the label. She blows across the surface of her mug to cool down her tea to a drinkable temperature. Everything’s quiet. It’s so peaceful. We listen to the woodland noises. Then a rabbit hops out from the bushes to eat some grass.

In that moment, the rabbit is the most magical creature I’ve ever seen. I turn to look at Rita who is smiling. Gosh, she is so stunning. I know I’m staring but I can’t help it. I want to say something profound about this beautiful place and how I’m feeling about her, but all that comes out of my mouth is, ‘Hey. It’s a rabbit’.

I really need to work on my conversation skills. But with Rita, I don’t think conversation matters. I feel connected to her. As if she already knows my inner thoughts and feelings. Rita would know that ‘Hey. It’s a rabbit’ isn’t a comment on local wildlife. It’s just another way of saying, ‘Rita. I love you’. But she is still putting up walls. Something’s not right. I’ll just need to be patient and give her time.

The circle of sky above our heads is turning deep indigo blue. Daylight is fading fast. So much so that I’m not seeing in color anymore. Tiny bugs land on me and hum around my head. I’m being eaten alive, so I start swatting like a madman. Alarmed, the rabbit darts away.

“Do you have bug spray?” Rita asks with Buddhist-like calm before sipping her tea. “It’s a good idea to put it on earlier rather than later.”

Taking Rita’s advice, I put down my mug, and jump up, still swatting. I must look as if I’m doing some kind of ancient folk dance as I slap and hop back to the tent.

“And maybe cover up with long pants and a hoodie,” she calls after me.

I unzip the tent and drag out my pack. I have no idea where things are inside, so I just empty everything out onto the ground. I trawl through the pile until find my combat pants and a hoodie which I quickly pull on. I actually don’t remember packing bug spray, but I look for it anyway, in a vague hope that Dylan has put some in for me.

“Don’t worry,” says Rita unzipping a pocket in her daypack on the bench beside her. “You can use mine.” She tosses over a small green bottle. I catch it.

“Nice toss. Do you want to be on the team? We could always use a player with those kinds of skills.”

“I’ll pass on your kind offer.” Rita smiles. “Thanks though.”

I drench myself in bug spray which goes up my nose and into my eyes making them smart and sting.

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