Page 78 of Shifting Gears

But Dani’s bright smile when Nora nods in the affirmative is all she cares about.

Dani leads her to the trunk, kneeling down and flipping open a pocketknife. There’s a spot over by Owen and Ryan’s names where she could easily make her mark. There’s also room near the floorboards where Mila’s name is in the heart, over the blank spot hacked away all those years ago.

Nora has wondered about the blank spot before, but she’s never asked. Now she runs her fingers over the splintery wood. “Who used to be here?”

“That’s…not exactly my story to tell,” Dani says. There’s a hesitation to her voice. A layer of meaning Nora doesn’t understand.

Nora swallows, her fingers curling against the tree bark.

Was it someone they lost? Or if not someone they lost, did this spot belong to someone Dani doesn’t want to talk about anymore? If everyone found out who Nora is, what she’s here for, would it be her name that becomes nothing but a scarred reminder on the tree trunk?

“Is it a bad memory?” Nora whispers.

Dani settles behind Nora. One of her arms tightens around Nora’s waist, and the other reaches out to touch the tree. She scrapes at a corner of the blank spot with her fingernail.

“No. But they needed our support,” Dani says. “That name wasn’t who they really were.”

Her fingers drift to Mila’s engraving, tracing the edges of the heart. And then Nora understands.

“I know you’re not here for much longer. But you’ve become part of our lives, our little group,” Dani says softly. “I think that’s worth remembering, right?”

Dani’s surety is calming. The blank spot isn’t the result of a conflict but something that came from love. A gesture of support. And Dani wants Nora’s name there, too.

When Dani hands her the pocketknife, the area Nora is drawn to is further to the right, just under where Dani’s slanted writing was carved in years ago.

Nora clutches the handle tightly. Now that she’s here, she’s hit with a dilemma.

Nora, or Eleanor?

She’s gone by Eleanor her whole life. Introducing herself to Dani was the first time since childhood that she’s tried anything else. Though it had felt strange at first,Noranow fits her so comfortably that it feels foreign to be addressed by her full name. These days, theEleanorin her email signature is just a reminder of her father’s disapproval, a reminder that she’s never lived up to the name she was given. She’s taken a new one now, and it fits better than the old one ever did.

She makes the first line of her swoopingNcarefully, and Dani’s eyes follow her hands all the way.

It’s slow work when Nora insists on perfection. She leans forward to blow the sawdust out of the lines when she’s finished, flipping Dani’s knife closed, and together they survey her handiwork.

“Your writing is so elegant,” Dani says, reaching up and tracing over the letters with her fingers. Her calloused fingertips catch on the uneven surface, and she rubs them together to brush off the wood chips. “How did you manage to do cursive on a tree trunk?”

“Determination,” Nora drawls, resting her head back on Dani’s shoulder as she laughs. “Hopefully you don’t regret asking me to do that.”

“Why would I regret it?”

“Things change,” Nora says, swallowing past the knot of secrets that’s only grown with time. “I’m leaving soon. This is quite permanent, that’s all.”

Dani says nothing for almost a full minute. When Nora cranes her neck back, Dani is frowning.

“I hope you didn’t do it just to make me happy,” Dani says. There’s a seriousness behind her words, a deep contrast to the goofiness of earlier—she’s fiddling with the zipper of Nora’s sweater, moving the clasp up and down rapidly until she gets it caught on the fabric and has to abandon the fidget. “Please don’t ever make yourself uncomfortable for my sake. You should do what you want, not what you think someone else wants.”

“When did you become a self-prioritization expert?” Nora says. She pokes gently at Dani’s ribs with an elbow. “You think of yourself less than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“You taught me. This summer.”

Nora’s breath catches.

The change in Dani surrounding her own needs has been noticeable over the last few weeks. She’s more eager to ask for what she wants, or to let Nora give it to her without hesitation. The introduction of the toy they now use almost daily has been a godsend. But to hear Dani emphasize Nora’s part in this new outlook makes her heart race for a different reason.

“Did I?” Nora says, swallowing thickly. “Does that mean you’re going to stop getting up half an hour earlier than you need to just so I have coffee when I wake up?”

“I called my brother last week,” Dani says out of nowhere.

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