Page 29 of The Darkest Parts of Me

Her face turns serious. “I mean, I’m sure it’s not going to be easy, but you can do it. I know you can.” She smiles hopefully. I purse my lips to the side and scrunch my nose in thought. “And it will be so beautiful this time of year,” she adds. “Have you ever actually been to the overlook before?”

The overlook is where Solitude Ridge got its name. At the highest peak, you can see the space in between the two mountain ranges, making the forest and valleys nestled between totally secluded. Solitude. Isolated from everything as the mountains provide a refuge, or a confinement, depending on how you look at it. Though I’ve only seen pictures, it’s supposedly a summit of beauty and serenity.

I shrug bashfully. “I’ll admit, I’ve always wanted to see it in person.”

Tash bites her lip, waiting for me to agree; she knows she almost has me convinced. Ideally, it sounds perfect, but in reality, I’m not completely confident my body can handle the journey. I’ve learned the hard way how bodies can be easily broken, but at the same time, I battled through hell to heal and get to where I am, and I’m not going to waste it.

“If I say yes, what exactly would I need to do?”

Tasha claps her hands excitedly. “Yay! Okay! I’m so excited. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll get you a packing list of what you need, which I’m sure you already have most of, and if you don’t, you’ll be able to find it easily in town.”

What do I have to lose?

My pride, for one, but why not push myself? That’s why I came here, to move forward and up. I didn’t really intend it to be literal by climbing a mountain, though.

“Alright, fine. Count me in.”

Tasha grabs my hands, beaming, her hazel eyes bright. “It will be amazing. I just know it!” Her smile stretches from ear to ear. I’m not convinced it will be amazing, but what was the point of surviving the accident if I don’t embrace life?

“I’m excited too.” And I mean that with all my might, saying a little prayer in my mind to anyone who is listening that I can make it to the end of the journey.

A week later, Tasha and I arrive at Solitude Ridge Adventure Tours at exactly 5:50 a.m. We grab our packs and gear from the back of Tash’s car and head over to the group gathered near a folding table, where participants are completing paperwork. I signed all of the forms a few days ago, making note of how many times the word, “injury,” and the phrase, “life threatening,” appeared before signing. This was either going to be a great test of my abilities, or something I would regret severely. Either way, I was planning for the “experience of a lifetime,” which was another phrase mentioned often in the forms. No doubt to distract people from the clear warnings of potential doom. Tasha also forgot to mention that we will be eating a variety of dehydrated meals where you simply “add water to consume.” Sounds tasty.

When I brought this to her attention, she just said, “It will be fine.”

“Have you had one before?” I asked.

“Well, no, but they can’t be that bad, right?”

I have an inkling they will, in fact, be as horrible as I imagine.

“I’m going to grab a coffee. Want one?” Tasha asks, nodding toward the coffee house.

“Yes. Please.” Coffee sounds divine.

She gives me a thumbs up and sleepily walks away to grab our much-needed jolt of caffeine. While I wait for her to return, I take in the group. It’s a much larger gathering than I expected. The thought of this many people watching me fail ties my stomach in knots.

Awesome.

Some are gathered in smaller groups, a few I know, and they offer me friendly waves or nods when I catch their eye. The rest of the group is made up of excited tourists who have probably been preparing for this for months, while I had only a week’s notice. Everyone is wearing the typical, outdoorsy dress code. Most of the women are wearing tight-fitting shorts and tank tops like myself, and like a few others, I have a jacket tied around my waist. Layers. Tasha told me to focus on light layers when packing my not-large-enough backpack. On top of my many clothing options, I managed to smash not only a sleeping bag and small tent into the bag, but a cot as well.

I check my phone for the time, 5:55 a.m. I look in the direction of the coffee shop to see if Tasha is making her way back, but instead of finding her, I see something I wasn’t expecting. A man driving a motorbike, with an impressive-sized backpack strapped to it, pulling into the parking area. I immediately know who it is, even though he’s wearing a helmet with the visor covering his face. The flip my stomach makes at the sight of him makes me a little queasy.

Surely Renn isn’t coming on the retreat.

Sure enough, it’s Renn who steps off the bike, removing his helmet in a swift movement.

He has on a long-sleeve, white shirt, dark pants, and hiking boots. His hair is extra messy until he runs a hand through it, smoothing it somewhat into place. I stare, unblinking, at him. I can’t help it, and I’m not the only one enjoying the show. Several women and a few men are side-eyeing him too, trying to act like they aren’t watching his every move when they most definitely are. What’s annoying is that he’s not even aware of it.

The butterflies in my stomach grow as he moves to undo the straps holding his pack in place. He’s coming on the retreat. Panic settles over me, and suddenly, I’m sweating. He doesn’t seem to notice me as he walks over to a group of guys who have waved him over.

“Renn’s coming?” Tash asks, approaching with our coffees in hand.

“It looks like it,” I reply, taking mine from her.

“Well, well, well, this is interesting.” Tasha says, bumping me with her elbow. I give her a sidelong glance, then look back to find Renn in the crowd, and when I do, he’s watching me. We make eye contact, and he starts walking toward us.

“Great,” I mutter under my breath so only Tasha hears.

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