Page 20 of Lines We Cross
I scrambled up and crossed my fingers as I sprinted across the log like the flames of hell were licking at my heels. Weird how the flames took the form of Max’s gaze in my mind. Both were terrifying and equally damaging.
Being with him, joking with him, having him touch me…it was all bringing back the way I used to feel about him. How he was my singular focus. The one who captivated my interest and melted my heart.
I carefully climbed down the opposite end of the log, barely getting my feet back on firm ground before Max was scampering down next to me.
“How’d you do that so fast?” I stared at him and then stared at his knee like it might provide me the answer I couldn’t wrap my brain around.
He shrugged and grabbed my left hand to start us race walking toward the next obstacle a good hundred yards away. My brain went fuzzy and I had to focus heavily to listen for his answer instead of staring at our hands connected so intimately.
“I’m still limping, I’m just limping quickly,” he said with a wry smile.
He was always smiling. Almost every memory I had of him was with a smile of some sort on his face. He had hundreds of variations of smiles, all conveying a slightly different meaning. I used to give them names, dissecting everything about the boy who’d captured my heart.
“Rawr!”
I jerked back in shock. Another costumed Bigfoot had jumped out at me. This time, though I was startled, my instincts were ready for him. I didn’t think. I just cocked my elbow back and let my fist fly, popping him right in the fuzzy cheek. He jumped back, his brown hairy arms grabbing his face. I flung my hand out to the side, wishing instantly I hadn’t done that.
“Ow, what was that for?” he whined.
“Jase?” Max asked, leaning in to peer at the Bigfoot’s eyes.
The second the Bigfoot talked, my skin crawled, joining my hand in pain and misery. Not because seeing a Bigfoot talk was horrific or anything, but because I’d realized it was just a human in a costume. I’d known that all along, but somehow racing through the shadowy forest with them jumping out at me had made me forget one of my own fellow citizens was behind that costume. And I’d just punched him in the face.
I twisted my fingers in front of me, not quite sure how to apologize. I didn’t realize punching someone could hurt you too.
Bigfoot took off his head, a grown-up Jase Cavanaugh giving me a dirty look as he rubbed his cheek. Max doubled over laughing again, receiving dirty looks from Jase too.
I winced. “I’m really sorry, Jase. You just scared me and I didn’t think. Lovely to see you again. Welcome back to Nickel Bay.” I pasted on a bright smile.
That set Max off even more.
Jase narrowed his eyes at me, but then broke out into a grin. He pulled me into a hug and all was forgiven. “You got a heck of a punch there, Skylar.”
Who knew Bigfoot gave great hugs?
8
Max
I had to admit. When I left Nickel Bay at eighteen, I hadn’t looked back. I didn’t give myself time to reflect on my life there or the goodbyes I had to say in order to chase my dream of playing baseball. I was busy from sun up to sun down, falling into my bed at night and instantly drifting to sleep just to wake up and do it all over again. I did it enough times to where it became my life and Nickel Bay was mostly forgotten. Always there, but in the back of my mind.
But now? Being back in Nickel Bay and seeing all these familiar faces? Spending time with Rae? Everything came flooding back. All the memories, all the love I felt for all these people. All the years I’d missed out on with my friends and family. It was like the real me, the one beneath the uniform, was alive again.
Most of all, I realized I’d missed out on Rae.
She made me laugh like I used to before I cared about my image: carefree, wild, and pure. Signing her up for this race had been a way to taunt her, but running it with her had become a gift. She was actually smiling and talking to me like she used to when we were kids, instead of her normal frowns and one-word answers since I’d been back.
And she punched Bigfoot in the face.
We were stumbling to the next obstacle and I could barely catch my breath from laughing so hard. I felt her glancing my way as we walked, probably wondering when I’d quit chuckling. I couldn’t seem to wipe the smile from my face. I was happy. For the first time since I’d gone down at third base with blinding pain in my knee, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
“Oh, crap,” Rae muttered.
I skidded to a stop and looked where she was staring. A wood sign had the words “Chop a Log, Stack, and Then Jog” carved into it with several axes lying on the ground next to it. Two huge piles of wood stared at us, one with large round tree trunk logs and another with chopped wood ready for a fire on a cool spring evening.
I rolled the sleeves up on my flannel shirt and grabbed an ax.
“I got this. Hand me a log.”
