Page 31 of The Darkest Parts of Me

Tasha grins. “Nope. Never.”

I let out a small giggle. “Interesting.”

And that’s the last thing we say to each other for the rest of the drive as the butterflies in my stomach dance wildly.

Once we reach the trailhead, the group is anxious to get started. A light breeze ruffles the leaves and branches of the dense forest around us. Yellows and reds contrast against the dark evergreen, creating a breathtaking view. The guides gather everyone together to hand out maps for reference on our journey, indicating how far we will go each day and where we will camp each night. They also pass out a schedule of who will help collect firewood or assist with cleaning each day. After another quick safety reminder to stay with the group and not wander from the trail, we head out.

According to our itinerary, we will hike eight to twelve miles a day with a couple of breaks before we make camp each night. Six days in all—two days to get to the outlook, two days camping near it, then two days to hike down to home.

I don’t see where Renn ended up as we follow the people in front of us and start to move forward. Soon, the trail narrows, so we have to walk two by two for the next stretch. The first few miles are fairly flat, making it easy to keep a conversation going without getting too winded. Tasha and I talk about a variety of topics, but by the time we’re at mile five, the steepness of the trail drastically increases. The guides are spread throughout the group, and a few mention this bit as the first of the steeper stretches of the trail and to watch our steps, saying things like “it’s a bit rocky here,” or “watch this log, it’s unstable.” It forms an instant comradery within the group as we point out the bits in the path that could be hazards. I’ve heard that being in the wilderness has this effect on people. It’s a comforting thought that, for the next few days, everyone will be looking out for each other, even though many of us are complete strangers.

The guides aren’t exaggerating about the steepness. By the time the trail evens out again, I’m panting and sweaty. I shouldn’t be surprised since, according to the map, we will experience an elevation gain of about six thousand feet by the time we are through. Luckily, we’re toward the front of the group, so once we reach the stopping point, it gives us extra time to rest for lunch. I welcomed the burning in my legs as my muscles worked to carry me forward, but I’m equally grateful for a moment to sit. Tasha and I settle near a group of women around our age as we snack on granola bars and nuts.

I’m not paying much attention to what they’re saying until I hear one of them say, “I already know who my retreat crush is.” The others in the group giggle.

“Oh, yeah? Who?” another one asks.

“I think someone said his name is Renn.”

Tasha glances over to them and then gives me a mischievous look.

“I think he’s a local,” another adds.

Tasha and I both stare at each other, grinning. Of course he caught their attention already. I don’t blame them; he had the same effect on me when I first saw him. Still does.

“He’s so attractive. I’m tempted to just pull him off into the forest for a quick . . .” She stops abruptly, and the others make shushing sounds because, right on cue, Renn walks over to Tasha and me.

“Hello . . . Renn,” Tasha says slowly and loudly, to be sure they heard.

“How’s it going?” he asks, his voice cheery.

“Good. Not too bad so far,” she replies. “How about you?”

I look up, craning my neck to watch him as he answers. Sitting makes it more difficult than usual to actually make eye contact with him. He notices my strain and sits on a rock in front of us. I notice that he doesn’t seem winded at all. Of course he isn’t.

“It’s been great,” he says, reaching for his water canteen. I notice the group next to us has suddenly gone deathly quiet.

“Hmm,” is all I say in response, followed by a few seconds of silence.

“Who’s watching Shy while you’re away?” Tasha asks, sensing the “tension” she mentioned earlier.

“I left her with Grant. I think he’ll enjoy the company.”

“Nice,” Tasha says and then looks at me like it’s my turn to add to the conversation, but I pretend to be searching for something in my backpack. “So—” Tasha starts, but I interrupt.

“So, Renn, Tash says you’ve never been on the retreat before.” He stares at me with a shocked expression, and I can feel Tasha’s wide eyes drilling into me.

“I have not,” he says as he cocks his head to the side, trying to get a read on me. I keep my eyes locked on him, waiting for him to look away first, but he keeps watching me too.

“So, why now?” I ask.

Tasha acts like she’s more interested in the trees, studying anything besides me and Renn. The group behind us whispers. I’m not sure what it says about me that I’m enjoying them listening in on this flirtatious exchange. I’ve never considered myself very good at flirting, but with Renn it comes to me easily.

“I don’t know. There was just something different about this year,” he says in a calm manner. If flirting was a competition Renn would win every single time. He gives me a wink and smiles. My face feels hot because I can’t stop myself from blushing at that smile. I try to think of something to say to calm the nervous excitement continuing to rise in me.

“My mom said you stopped by the bookshop to say goodbye,” I say flatly.

“I did.”

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