Page 48 of The Two of Us

Except me. I’m not there, but that will never be a deal breaker. My dad must have overheard her comment because he glances over at me with pity in his eyes.

I cloak my voice in indifference. “Since you don’t care for surprises, it’s a scarf. You probably already have scarfs—Parisian scarfs, so feel free to toss it in the back of your closet. Listen, we’re in the middle of a movie so I’ll talk to you later. Merry Christmas!” I slam my thumb on the End button before she can respond and toss the phone at a nearby pillow.

“Mara—” my dad starts.

“Look, it’s my favorite part,” I cut him off, hitting play.

He lets it go.

The Kings return home the next day. Cat and I haven’t spoken for a week, a record for us, but when I text her asking if she’s still up for hanging out, she responds with one word: duh. We agree to meet at a small lake in the woods, a spot we’ve claimed as our own for years. It’s our hidden oasis. In the summer, the surrounding trees glint around it like emerald jewels and the winters transform it into something out of a Robert Frost poem.

I’m lacing up my winter boots when my phone dings.

Cat: Bring the sticks

Me: Seriously?

Cat: Yeah. Hung out with the fam for too long. Need to

get out some aggression.

Me: Um… Am I gonna get the brunt of this aggression?

Cat: You know it

We haven’t played ice hockey on the lake since Ambrose stopped hanging out with us. He was usually the referee and would talk Cat down when her competitiveness turned her into a mountain lion. I don’t even care if we just pass the puck back and forth together, it’ll be fun to reinstate the childhood tradition.

I trudge through the snow, finding my walk more enjoyable with the playlist I saved for winters. There’s something about listening to Bon Iver when everything is cold and barren that just feels right. I inhale the cold air, letting his words carry me through the familiar trees, their hunched back branches marked by the passing of time.

Come on skinny love, just last the year

Pour a little salt, we were never here

My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my

I wonder how long Brandon and I will last as I step over strewn rocks and branches. I’m not naive enough to think our relationship is perfect, but I’ll give anything to make it last. I need something to last.

Staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer

I tell my love to wreck it all

Cut out all the ropes and let me fall

My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my

Right in this moment, this order’s tall

I never mind having doubts about my relationship because Brandon is always there to remind me that being together is right. It’s what makes sense. But sometimes—only sometimes—I wonder if the ropes he uses are there to hold me up or to keep me bound. And if it’s the latter, will I ever have the courage to take a knife to them?

A twig snaps behind me, and I whip my head around, yanking out an earbud. The woods are still and empty, the only sound coming from a muffled Bone Iver humming in my clenched fist. I’m alone, but the trees have enough girth to obscure even the widest of people.

“Hello?”

Another snap sounds to my left and I jump in place.

“Boo!” a voice bellows, hands clamping down on my shoulders as I scream.

Cat stumbles back in laughter, clenching at the side of her navy coat.

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