Page 41 of Every Thought Taken

As I snake my arm around her waist, the loud thump, thump, thump above us has me breaking the kiss and inching back. “Over here,” I mutter, dragging Helena toward the rail.

Ales reaches the bottom level seconds after we reach the rail. “The view’s much better from the top.” She steps up to the rail beside Helena and nudges her shoulder. “C’mon.”

On the top level of the tower, elbows on the rail, we stare out at the wispy clouds almost close enough to touch. Take in the white-capped steel-blue mountain and the tall, lush evergreens blanketing half the hillside, thinning just before the rocky shore of Lake Lavender.

Inhaling deeply, I close my eyes and get lost in my senses. Goose bumps flare up on my forearms and climb my biceps. Earth and pine and a familiar, unnamable wild scent drift up my nose. I grip the rail and let the rough bite of wood ground me as I mentally float with the clouds.

In the woods, in the thick of nature, a strong sense of freedom inhabits my soul. Out here, I am alive. Out here with Helena, I am free.

We sit on the wood deck near the rail and take out sandwiches, chips, and water. Over the next hour, we eat and talk and laugh feet below the clouds. More pictures are taken—most of scenery, but a few with some version of us.

All too soon, we pack up and head down the trail. The walk home is quiet and quick.

Ales drags Helena to her room and I am left wondering how to spend the next hour or two until they emerge. Plopping down on my bed, I unlock my phone and tap on the photos icon. I scroll through today’s pictures, staring a little longer at the images of Helena or the two of us.

“Who would I be without you, North?” I whisper into the fading light of day. “No one. Without you, I’d be no one.”

CHAPTER23

HELENA

Mom and Dad joined us at the Everetts’ for grilled burgers and side salads for dinner. The first ten minutes they were here, Mom droned on about me never being home. I blamed it on summer, getting older, and wanting to hang out with friends.

What I keep to myself is wanting to spend time with my boyfriend. If either of our parents catches wind of our new relationship status, all our unsupervised time together goes out the window. And that is not happening.

While the parents drink and chat around the patio table, we kids surround the small firepit in the backyard and follow a summer tradition—roasting marshmallows.

“I miss Mags,” Lessa says, twirling her skewer.

“Same,” I state, pulling my marshmallow from the flames and inspecting it. “But she and Mr. Bishop need some time away. Just the two of them.”

“They went to her grandparents?” Anderson asks.

I lower my marshmallow into the flames, deciding it’s not quite golden yet. “Yeah. Her mom’s parents. They live in Smoky Creek.”

Lessa’s marshmallow catches fire, and she yanks it from the flames, blowing on it. “Damnit.”

“Language,” Mrs. Everett shouts across the yard.

“Sorry, Mom.” With her back to the parents, she rolls her eyes. “Still edible,” she adds with a smile and picks apart the outer crust. “Think she’ll be back for the camping trip?”

“Doubtful,” I say, taking a bite of my marshmallow. “But you never know.”

We sit around the fire until the flames are all but extinguished. Mom and Dad leave just before eleven, making me promise to spend some time with them tomorrow or Sunday. Mr. and Mrs. Everett walk my parents to the door and don’t return to the backyard afterward.

Dousing the embers with water, we head inside and down the hall. Lessa mentions watching a movie in her room and I all but pout that Anderson won’t be there. We watch movies in the living room most of the time, but every once in a while, Lessa wants it to be just the girls.

I can’t argue with her. She is one of my best friends. Denying her girl time would be wrong. And if I said anything against the idea or suggested Anderson hang with us, it may draw unwanted attention or prompt questions.

“Be right back,” I tell her. “Going to change and brush my teeth.”And talk to Anderson a minute.

She grabs a tank top and sleep shorts from the dresser. “I’ll load the movie.” She lifts a hand to her mouth and stifles a yawn.

An ounce of thrill floods my veins. Call me selfish, I don’t care. I may love my friend, but I also want alone time with my boyfriend. Alone time tonight involves sneaking out of Lessa’s room and tiptoeing into his.

Once I’m in my pajamas, I brush my teeth and wash my face. Before returning to Lessa’s room, I poke my head in Anderson’s room and let him know I’ll be in once she falls asleep. In a quiet rush, he pads across the room to the door and kisses me chastely.

Back in Lessa’s room, we lie in her bed and watchThe Perks of Being a Wallflower. She won’t admit it, but I think the main reason she wanted to see this movie when it came out is because of Emma Watson. We all love theHarry Pottermovies, but she always stood up for and boasted about Hermione.

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