Page 7 of Just Act Natural

Heat creeps up my neck at his patronizing tone, but it’s not like he’s wrong. My sparkly luggage probably gave me away the minute I walked through the door. “Pretty new.”

“What about you, Grant?” Brian asks. Everyone swivels around to look at the guy hovering by his neat pack in the corner. “Professional outdoorsman?”

He could be one, given his build and the way he looks like he just walked off the pages of an LL Bean catalog. Somebody get this man an ax and a tree that needs chopping, stat. Dismissive eyes or not, I’d watch that show.

His gaze skates over the couples and lands on me. He shakes his head, but a smile touches his mouth. “I’d say I’m an amateur outdoorsman.”

The prickle of heat crawling over my skin blossoms into something much more pleasant. I shouldn’t feel good that he doesn’t know what he’s doing either, but it’s a relief I won’t be the only clueless person on this trip. Grant and I can stumble through it together.

Nottogethertogether. Just in the same vicinity. Obviously.

Deena returns from wherever she hid my roller bag and heads straight for me with a weird light in her eyes. Can she sense the extra underpants in my pack? Is she going to make me surrender them?

“Before we load up the van and head out, do you mind if I take a quick picture with you?” Her smile turns awkward. “Normally, I wouldn’t ask, but our daughter Skye is out of her head with excitement thatGenuinely_Lilais coming on one of our treks.”

“Of course.” I’m not really at my best in my athleisure and a high pony, but hopefully Skye won’t mind the departure from my usualGenuinely_Lilaaesthetic. Deena leans in close and takes a few pictures before doing something on her phone, her grin back to full wattage.

“Genuinely Lila?” Shannon asks. “What’s that?”

I pull a face, hoping she’ll let it go. “It’s just a social media thing. Are we ready to be outdoorsy or what?”

I bend over and grab the top strap of my pack but can barely straighten up again. My attempt at nonchalance isn’t going so hot. I’mallchalance.

“Lila’s a local celebrity.” Deena’s fake whisper carries remarkably well. “She has thousands of followers.”

My smile feels a little too thin. People in town have an image of me, probably fueled by my mom’s constant stream ofpraise, that I’m this amazing success both on- and off-line. I was for a while in Seattle, but here in my studio apartment, scrambling to get a full-time job, that label doesn’t fit anymore.

Plus…my followers have no idea I’m still using old pictures and B-roll videos from my life in the city more than six months after everything turned upside down. Social media followers don’t exactly stick with you after your fiancé cheats, you end things with him, lose your job, and move back to your small hometown to restart your life.

Basically,Genuinely_Lilais a big old fraud.

“Are you one of those influencers?” Brian’s mouth twists as though the word tastes sour.

“I’m more of a content creator.” Most people don’t know either definition anyway, but they’re far more forgiving of content creators than they are of influencers.

Scott waves his hands across his chest in a big X. “I do not give consent for you to use pictures of me. I don’t want my face all over the internet.”

“Oh. I wasn’t going to?—”

“Like anybody wants to see your big mug,” Shannon says with a laugh.

“I’m just here to enjoy the views,” I tell them. “Nobody has to worry about non-consensual photographs.”

The two couples look me over like I’m a particularly precocious child who’s been indulged too long. Even Grant’s expression turned to mild curiosity when the wordinfluencerwas tossed around.

So yeah, off to a great start.

THREE

LILA

The horrible wheezing followingme around would be the perfect soundtrack for a horror movie if I didn’t know it was coming from a short, harmless woman’s pathetic lungs.

Mine. My lungs are making the awful sound.

We’ve been walking for hours at what Deena assures me is a leisurely pace. We’ve paused regularly to admire the views, but I’d give anything to sit down somewhere. I’ll take the dirt at this point. Shannon was right—my pride has abandoned me in the literal dust.

My thighs ache, my lungs ache, and don’t get me started on my back. I’m in pretty good shape, but I’ve never gone through a yoga class with twenty-five pounds of gear strapped to my back like I’m relocating a comatose bear cub.

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