Page 30 of Every Thought Taken

I trudge up the incline, winded, as I grab roots and limbs to help heave me forward. Several feet back, Lessa grumbles under her breath about her brother picking the worst trail possible. Mags, on Lessa’s heels, watches her footing every few steps then looks around the woods with a smile.

“How far in are we?” I ask as I reach him. Planting my hands on my thighs, just above the knee, I take a few deep breaths.

“Almost to the lookout point.”

“Thank god,” Lessa wheezes out as she and Mags catch up to us. She rests a palm over her heart and points a finger with her free hand at Anderson. “You don’t get to pick trails anymore.”

Anderson laughs and I can’t help but stare. Take in the creases at the corners of his mouth and eyes. The bob of his Adam’s apple. The carefree delight in his current state.

Not many have witnessed Anderson’s easygoing side. The gentle, wondrous boy with an incredible smile he shares with very few. I see it from time to time, but only when it is the two of us. I love this side of him. Uninhibited with a spark of delight and mischief.

Much as I wish more people knew this side of him, I am glad he doesn’t give it to everyone. It makes each laugh and smile and twinkle in his eyes that much more potent and special.

“If you say so,” he taunts. “Might change your mind when we reach the lookout.”

“Doubt it,” she grumbles. “How is there not an easier route to the lookout?”

“I’m glad we’re taking a new trail,” Mags chimes in. “Think of it as an adventure, Lessa.”

Lessa narrows her eyes on Mags. “I can’t be the only one thinking I’ll have heart issues after this.” No one responds to her nonquestion. “Ugh. Whatever.” She stomps past us. “Let’s just get this over with already.”

We hike to the lookout in relative silence, Anderson at my side while Mags treks alongside Lessa. Every now and then, I point out birds or small animals or the occasional insect as they wake for the day.

Leaving for a hike at dawn was Anderson’s idea. Lessa groaned last night throughout dinner, dessert, and before we drifted off in our tent. Though I knew we’d be tired, I’d been excited. The world is a different place as the sun rises. There is a gentleness not often seen as your part of the world stirs to life.

“Thanks for this,” I say.

I feel his eyes on me as we approach the turnoff for the lookout. “For going on a hike?”

With a shake of my head, I meet his gaze. “For picking a new trail. For getting us up early.” I shrug. “Tired and grouchy as some of us are—”

“You know I can hear you, right?” Lessa looks over her shoulder and rolls her eyes.

“Anyway,” I say, loud enough for her to hear before lowering my voice to continue. “Thank you. We’d probably miss an incredible view had you not thought of this.”

Anderson inches closer. “You don’t need to thank me, but you’re welcome. Just wanted to see the morning sun with you.” He swallows as a faint dusting of pink colors his cheeks. “Who knows how many chances we’ll get to see it here.”

Something about his admission warms me head to toe. Blankets me in the summer sun long before it graces the sky. I welcome the sensation. Let it consume every inch and root itself deep in my bones. Allow it to take over my thoughts.

No one knows Anderson the way I do. No one else gets to see the complex angles of his mind or heart. I love that he considers me special enough to get this piece of him. In the same breath, it saddens me that he keeps this side of himself hidden from everyone else. Intentionally locked away and sheltered from the world to guard and protect himself.

I peek at him from the corner of my eye as we walk a more level part of the trail. Almost the same height as me, Anderson is lithe with sharper angles. A black hoodie hangs loose on his thin frame, wisps of his blond hair peeking out from the hood on his head while his hands sway at his sides. Charcoal cargo shorts stop just beneath his knees. White socks barely peeking out of the hiking boots on his feet.

He is still the same Anderson I’ve known more years than not. Yet, he isn’t the same person.

Anderson Everett is no longer a boy, yet not quite a man. He’s somewhere in that in-between. The place where we try to figure out who we are and what we are meant to do in the world. Were he not wise beyond his years, he’d be cracking corny jokes and playing silly pranks with other boys his age. But he isn’t the type to do either and I like that about him.

As we reach a bend in the path, he shifts to look my way. When he sees my eyes on him, the smile he gives only me makes an appearance.

“What’s up, North?”

My eyes shoot straight ahead, my cheeks heat, and I shake my head. “Nothing.”

A short, muted chuckle fills the air between us. “Mm-hmm.” He inches closer and I feel the heat of him through the sleeve of my shirt. “I’ll let it slide. For now.” He takes my hand in his. “But only because we’ll reach the lookout in a minute.”

Perspiration dampens my skin despite the cooler, early morning temperature. My heart thumps brutally in my chest while my breaths come in stuttered gasps. Neither has anything to do with the hike and everything to do with the guy holding my hand.

For months, Anderson and I have grown exponentially closer. He is my best friend. More than my best friend. He is the one person I think of when I have a bad day. The first person I want to share happy news with. We have always been close, always had a different connection, but this…

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