Page 82 of Full Tilt
“I’ve never seen a sky packed with them. City lights always drown them out.”
“I know. The first time we went, I couldn’t believe the canopy. You’ll love it.”
“I know I will,” Kacey said, settling into her seat, kicked her boots up on the dash. “But I still don’t know if bringing my guitar was a good idea. I’ll bethatgal who breaks into song at the party.”
“You’ve been depriving us of your talent long enough. You owe us at least one song. Consider it the price of admission.”
She peppered me with dozens of other questions about the trip, none of which concerned the sleeping arrangements. Not that I even knew anything. Oscar assured me he ‘had it taken care of’ and muttered something about Holly and Kacey sharing a tent.
When we arrived at the campsite, Theo’s black truck and Oscar’s silver SUV were already parked side by side, facing a flat clearing of dirt at Upper Lehman Creek. Trees—fir, pine, and oak, rose up amidst tall, pale green grasses carpeting the forest floor. I could just see the creek from our site. It meandered all through the campgrounds, rushing softly over smooth stone. A metal fire ring was at the center of the site, and Theo was already setting up his orange tent on the east side.
Kacey jumped out to hug everyone, and Oscar pulled me aside.
“Holly changed plans on us, bro,” he said. “She can’t be parted from Theo. Looks like you and Kacey are going to be tentmates.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and raised an eyebrow. “You’re so full of shit.”
Oscar laughed. “You and Kacey. One tent. That’s the God’s honest.”
“I know but…Never mind.”
“Wow, this is amazing,” Kacey said, joining us, her gaze sweeping over the view. She was adorable in her slouchy, oversize jeans rolled up to mid-shin, black combat boots, a tight white tee and a green plaid shirt about ten sizes too big. I put the day’s temp at eighty-six. Kacey wore a knitted beanie on her head anyway, as if it were fifty-six.
“Oscar, this place is so beautiful.”
“Isn’t it?” His smile was nostalgic. “I used to come here with my parents every year when I was a kid. They eventually got burnt out on it, but I never stopped coming. I force my closest friends and my best gal to come up with me at least four times a year.”
“At least,” Dena said, wrapping her arms around Oscar from behind, her chin against his shoulder. “But I love it here. I find it inspirational.” She turned her dark eyes to Kacey. “I hope you find it the same. I hear you brought your guitar?”
“Yeah.” Kacey glanced down, kicked an acorn. “Maybe I’ll play something. I do a mean Kumbaya.”
Oscar jerked his chin at me. “J, why don’t you show her around our site, get her familiar with the area. We’ll get Theo to put up your tent for you.”
“The hell I will,” Theo grunted from behind, on his knees in a shallow pond of orange nylon, directing Holly on how to help him.
I turned to Kacey. Her blue eyes seemingly more stunning in the overcast haze of the Basin, instead of the relentless white heat of Vegas.
“You want to see the creek?” I asked.
“I want to see everything.”
I took her around the site, through the woods and along the creek. It was only a few feet wide but with a solid current of clear, cold water. Kacey put her hands in it and jumped back with a yelp. She shook her hands dry and wrapped them in her shirt.
“Please tell me we don’t have to bathe in this,” she said, laughing.
“Not at all. The town of Baker has pay showers.”
“Thank God.”
“Just a short, four-hour hike down the mountain.”
Her smile dissolved. “For real?”
“Oscar likes to go all or nothing. We’re roughin’ it, city girl, for two whole days.”
Kacey blew out her lips. “There’d better be some serious stars tonight.”
“I guarantee it.”
