Chasing the Sun

by Melanie Hooyenga

  “You with those noisy kids over there?” A light from over the door casts shadows on her face, making her look like a real-life witch. Fritzy gives another yip just as someone from our campsite screams, and Neb and I shuffle closer to the trees.

  “You have a good night,” he says, his voice strained.

  “That screaming’s gonna keep me up all night.”

  Neb grabs my hand and yanks me into the darkness.

  “Bye-ee!” I shout over my shoulder. I don’t exhale until we’re safely behind a clump of trees on the next campsite. “For a second I thought we found the witch from Hansel and Gretel.” I shudder before a giggle works its way through my body.

  “The better to eat you with, my dear,” Neb says in a high-pitched voice. His thumb trails over my jaw, followed by his lips.

  “You’re mixing fairy tales.”

  “Artistic license.” His lips brush mine and thoughts of witches and wolves and children being kidnapped by scary old ladies drift into the night air. His strong arms shelter me from whatever lurks in the darkness, while his body promises that there’s more to come.

  “Not that I’m complaining,” I whisper against his lips, “but this would be better in private.”

  “Say no more.” He straightens, and with a determination that seems overconfident considering how dark it is, he guides me around trees and camp chairs to the side of his tent.

  “Do you have night vision eyeballs or something?”

  He laughs softly. “Never underestimate a man on a mission.”

  My pulse races. “Noted.” But now that we’re at his tent, my earlier bravado wavers. His tent is the same height as mine, which means neither of us can stand up inside without hitting our heads on the ceiling.

  Which means we’ll need to lie down. Or at least sit. And I’m guessing he doesn’t have chairs in there.

  “Hey.” His hand grazes my cheek, sending shivers straight down to my toes. “There’s no pressure here. I just want to hang out with you. We can take this slow.”

  I nod in the dark. “Okay.”

  He opens the flap entrance to the tent and the zipper announces to the world what we’re about to do. He sticks one foot inside, followed by his head, but doesn’t invite me to follow.

  “One sec,” he says, and a moment later soft light illuminates the inside of the tent. He straightens, then holds out his hand to me.

  It feels like I’m standing at the edge of a cliff. Taking his hand will close the door on Pax and the years of bullshit he put me through, but it’ll also hurtle me into an unknown that I don’t know if I’m ready for. “You promise you’re okay with strictly PG?” My voice comes out shaky and he steps the rest of the way out of the tent.

  “Let’s go back to the fire.” He rezips the tent and the light inside taunts me. Calls me out on being afraid. He loops his arm through mine and starts toward the fire at the next campsite.

  I tug him to a stop. “Wait.”

  His eyes are impossible to see in the dark, but nothing about his posture is threatening or imposing. He really just wants to hang out.

  “I’m just nervous. And I really don’t want to go back to the fire.”

  “I don’t want to make you do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

  “The farther I am from scary stories, the better.” He snorts, and the sound loosens the tension in my chest. I slip my arm from his and go back to the tent. It’s hard to see what’s what without a light, but I find the zipper and open the door in one fluid motion.

  Or at least I try to. The zipper gets caught halfway up, effectively locking us out. It’s like the universe really doesn’t want me to go in there.

  “I broke your tent.”

  He crouches next to me, the warmth from his body drawing me to him. “It’s caught on the fabric.” He yanks on the zipper and curses under his breath. “It does this sometimes.”

  “So you know how to fix it?”

  He pauses. “My dad was usually the one who got it unstuck.”

  “Are you saying you can’t get it open?”

  “No,” he grunts. “I can.”

  But the more he pulls, the more firmly the zipper gets stuck. And the more frustrated he gets.

  I lean my head on his shoulder and he lets go of the zipper. “I swear I didn’t do that on purpose.”

  His hand wraps around my waist and he nuzzles his nose in my neck. “I figured you were building the anticipation.”

  Heat flares in my belly. I reach for his hand and put it back on the tent. “Get that thing open.”

  He struggles for another couple minutes when the worst sound ever reaches us: people walking to their tents. Flashlight beams bounce off the trees and I instinctively duck.

  Neb curses again and pulls me to my feet. “This might be where we say goodnight.”

  Disappointment crashes through me. Of course the moment I finally got over my nerves, it’s snatched away from me.

  His finger lifts my chin so I’m looking at him. “It’s not like this’ll be the last time we see each other.” He presses a kiss to my cheek and I step closer until his arms wrap around me and his lips cover mine. My heart thuds in my chest. The smell of campfire lingers in the air and I inhale deeply. The sound of footsteps grows closer but he doesn’t stop kissing me.

  “New couple alert!” someone shouts behind us.

  We break the kiss but he keeps me locked in his embrace. I rest my head against his chest and smile when I feel his heartbeat through his shirt. It’s pounding as hard as mine.

  “Can I walk you back to your tent?” he asks.

  I give his tent a final scowl before nodding. Everyone else was smart enough to carry a flashlight with them, and every single one of them shines their light in our eyes and says some version of “oooooohhhhhh” as we walk by.

  “I thought we left junior high years ago,” I mumble.

  Neb squeezes my hand and I peek at him from the corner of my eye. A flashlight shines on us, giving enough light so I can actually see his face, and his smile makes my heart do funny things.

  A light is already on inside my tent, casting Naomi’s shadow on the door. “Who’s there?!” she shout-whispers. She doesn’t get scared easily, but right now she sounds terrified.

  “It’s me,” I whisper back.

  “Me, who? How do I know you’re not some monster possessing Sage’s body?”

  “You don’t,” Neb says in a low, scratchy voice. He reaches for the zipper and slowly raises it, and Naomi lets out a blood-curdling scream.

  We jump away from the tent and double over laughing.

  “Assholes!” She pokes her head out of the small opening, her eyes narrowing when she sees us. “Where did you two sneak off to?”

  “I’ll tell you later.” I rest my hand on her forehead and push her back inside the tent. “Can you excuse us a moment?”

  “Yeah, you’re definitely Sage,” she says before closing the flap.

  When I straighten, I collide with Neb’s chest. His strong hands catch me before I fall and his mouth is on mine in an instant. He doesn’t waste time with gentle. His tongue meets mine, hurried and insistent, and I melt into his arms. We don’t pull away until someone clears their throat behind us.

  “Time to say goodnight,” Mr. Mauro says, and a blush scalds my face. The only thing worse than being caught making out by your parents is being caught by your teacher. Even if he is one of the coolest teachers in the school.

  I smile at Mr. Mauro. “Good night.”

  He laughs. Actually tilts his head back and opens his mouth and laughs. “Don’t make me sleep outside your tent, young man.”

  22

  Neb

  I let go of Sage and take a step back. “No, sir.”

  “You’ve got ten seconds.”

  I nuzzle a kiss on Sage’s cheek and whisper, “The anticipation was definitely worth the wait.”

  Then I follow Mr. Mauro to the boys’ side of the campsite.

  “I’m rea
lly sorry, sir.” The last thing I want is for this teacher, who seems really cool, to think I’m someone he needs to keep his eye on. Especially since school hasn’t even started.

  “Relax,” he says, slapping a hand on my back. “I knew what I was signing up for bringing a group of high schoolers into the woods. But you actually need to stay in your tent all night.”

  “Of course.” We reach my tent—he really did walk me all the way back—and I pause. The zipper’s still stuck halfway open. “I don’t suppose you’re any good at opening stuck zippers?”

  He laughs again and kneels in front of my tent. After a couple minutes, he loosens the fabric and the door opens wide. “This gives me an idea about how to keep you all in your tents.”

  This time I laugh. “Thanks for your help. And I promise I won’t be any trouble.”

  “Good night, Neb. I’m glad you could join us.” He rests a hand on my shoulder. We’re about the same height and he’s maybe ten years older than me, but I get total father vibes from him. “Kit told me how excited you are for the eclipse, which made me like you before I met you. Now Sage has given you her stamp of approval.”

  I snort from deep in my throat.

  “And I’m really sorry to hear about your father.”

  My smile fades.

  “My dad died a couple years ago. It’s rough no matter how old you are, but you’ve had to deal with a lot.”

  He’s still gripping my shoulder and the unexpected affection catches me off guard. Mom’s hugged me a few times but it always feels forced. Emotion builds in my chest so I nod.

  “You may not have heard this about me yet, but you kids are important to me. If you need anything, my door’s always open.”

  I clear my throat. “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

  “Get some rest,” he says. “Tomorrow will be a big day.”

  “Good night.” I crawl into my tent—there’s no standing in this thing—and stretch out on my bed. Stars fill the night sky, anchoring me to this place, this moment. Dad always said that no matter where you are in the world, the stars will always be there. Anytime I feel lost, literally or figuratively, I look up and know my place in the world.

  The air mattress beneath the sleeping bag does a good job protecting my back from roots, but nothing will soften my thoughts. Sage is exactly what I expected from our text conversations, and so much more. One minute she’s confident and says—and does—exactly what she’s thinking, and the next she hesitates, like she doesn’t trust her own judgment. It sounds like things were bad with her ex, so maybe some of that’s still messing with her head. If it is, I swear I’ll do everything I can to never make her doubt her decision about me.

  Memories of the evening wrap around me and I toy with the idea of sneaking her into my tent after everyone’s asleep. Of kissing her beneath the stars until I can’t breathe without inhaling her.

  I’ll just close my eyes until everyone’s quiet, then I’ll text her.

  The sound of a zipper jolts me awake. It’s just starting to get light out and since I never put up the rain flap, my clothes and sleeping bag are damp from dew. I sit up as the tent flap opens. Run my hand through my hair. Try not to think about my breath.

  Because I’m definitely kissing Sage as soon as she’s in here.

  But the head that pokes through isn’t Sage. It’s Tara.

  “What are you doing?” I whisper. My voice cracks, totally lessening the threatening tone I was going for.

  She smiles and gives me a quick once over. “I wanted to see you.”

  “Well, I don’t want to see you.”

  Her smile falls, but she pushes her way through the opening. She’s wearing leggings and a loose flannel that hangs open, revealing the top of her cleavage. I make a point of looking at her eyes and she smirks. “Why are you making this difficult? I’m practically throwing myself at you.” She crouches next to me and her leg presses against mine.

  I pull my legs closer to my body and she takes it as an invitation, sitting at the end of my bed. “I’m not making this anything. I’m sorry if I haven’t been more clear, but this,” I point between us, “isn’t happening.”

  Her lip pushes into a pout, like that’ll change my mind. I mean, I’m not blind. She’s gorgeous and I’m sure messing around with her would be fun, but that’s not who I am. And Tara being in my tent is the exact opposite of the vow I made to myself about making Sage trust me.

  “You need to go.”

  She runs a hand over my knee and bats her eyes, and I thank the stars that my body doesn’t have a physical reaction. Logic can’t always control what the body does. “You sure?”

  “Yes. Please go.”

  She huffs in frustration and crawls toward the door. Her leggings leave very little to the imagination, and she knows it, wiggling her ass as she opens the flap.

  The little voice in my head warns to check outside and make sure no one’s watching, but I want her out. Besides, it’s quiet out there. If she hurries up, no one will see her.

  She steps outside and looks back in at me. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  “I won’t.”

  She rolls her eyes and steps away without closing the zipper. I lean forward to close it, and she looks down at me with a smirk, then makes a big show of buttoning the top buttons of her flannel and pushing her hair over her shoulder before sauntering away.

  A sinking feeling in my gut nearly knocks me over.

  Who did she see?

  I tumble out of the tent, landing hard on my knees, and spring to my feet. Naomi’s standing on the edge of the road, her toothbrush sticking out of her half-open mouth. I do a quick scan of myself—still in my clothes from last night, every button and zipper fully in place—and hope the anger on my face makes it clear that nothing happened with Tara. But before I can approach her, she scurries away.

  I follow her toward the bathrooms and wait outside until she comes out.

  When she sees me, her eyebrow raises and she crosses her arms over her stomach. “This oughtta be good.”

  “I did not invite her and she was in my tent maybe ninety seconds.” While I’d like to brag that it takes me more than ninety seconds, that won’t fix this situation. “I like Sage. A lot. I fell asleep thinking of her and until Tara shoved her way into my tent, I was sleeping. Alone.”

  Her eyes narrow, like she has a superpower to know if I’m telling the truth, then her scowl relaxes. “Theo did tell me you asked him to keep Tara out of your hair. But he also said you hadn’t been straight with her. Clearly she thinks you’re interested.”

  I glance over my shoulder in the direction Tara had gone. “She knows now. I would have physically thrown her out of my tent if I could have done it without touching her.”

  She gives me one last penetrating glare, then says, “We’re only as good as our worst intentions.”

  “I’m not gonna ask you not to say anything to Sage because there’s nothing to keep from her. I can’t help what Tara does.”

  “I agree you can’t control what Tara does, but you need to tell Sage.” She unfolds her arms and steps past me toward the road. “I’ll give you through breakfast to tell her. Otherwise she’s hearing it from me.”

  “That’s fair. Thanks.”

  She turns back to look at me. “Don’t thank me. I’m looking out for my best friend. She’s dealt with enough assholes to last her entire life.”

  “I’m not an asshole.”

  She smiles, but it doesn’t feel friendly. “Then prove it.”

  I get my chance an hour later. I couldn’t get back to sleep—and I was a little afraid to in case Tara came back—so I helped the teachers with breakfast as soon as they came outside. Sage is one of the first to join us. Her hair’s pulled back in a messy ponytail and her leggings somehow manage to look good without being scandalous. She smiles when she sees me, and for a moment I worry it’s going to be awkward, but she comes right up and kisses me on the cheek.

  “Good morning,
” she whispers. “Did you sleep well?”

  The corner of my mouth lifts. “I passed out in my clothes.”

  She nods approvingly then eyes the food on the table. Pancakes are going on three electric griddles and roughly forty pounds of bacon sizzle on another two. “What can I do to help?”

  “Can I talk to you for a second?” The look of alarm that passes over her face makes me want to take it back, but I don’t want there to be any secrets between us. I grab her hand and guide her to the trees at the edge of the campsite. “It’s nothing about you, or us. It’s just…” I run a hand over my face and spit it out before I lose my nerve. A beat of anger at Tara flashes through me for putting me in this situation. “It’s about Tara.”

  Her bottom lip catches between her teeth and she nods slowly.

  “You know she likes me or whatever, and even though I’ve done nothing to encourage her and I thought I was clear that I’m into you, she ugh…” Another wipe of the face. Damn Tara for being so manipulative. I can picture the smug look on her face, knowing she’s making me squirm. “She came into my tent this morning—uninvited—I guess hoping something would happen between us.”

  Sage’s face reddens. “You guess?”

  “Well, I know. But I kicked her out. She was in there less than a minute.”

  Her gaze drops to the ground and she kicks at the dirt with the toe of her shoe. “Why are you telling me?”

  She hasn’t pulled her hand away, so I lift it to my mouth and kiss her knuckles. “Because I like you and I don’t want to keep anything from you. Although this does give me motive if she ends up dead in the creek later.”

  She smirks, and I exhale.

  “I’m hoping this is the end of it. You’re the one I want.” I kiss her hand again. “The only one.”

  23

  Sage

  My heart thrills at his words. I want to believe him, to throw caution to the wind and leap into his arms, but part of me holds back. “Thank you for telling me.”