Sasquatch, Love, and Other Imaginary Things

by Betsy Aldredge

  “Do you mind helping me?” he asked.

  I took the sling off of him and gently helped him get the sleeves over his arms while he gritted his teeth. I put the sling back over his neck and helped position his arm in it, hoping he couldn’t feel me shaking.

  When I was done, I forced myself to scoot a few inches away from him and mentally slapped myself for thinking about how the tight shirt showed off his physique.

  I glanced away, but he gazed at me until I met his eyes. “Thank you,” he said.

  Hal emerged from his tent in a parka and wool cap. A bit of overkill, but whatever. He set up the camera on a tripod facing our fire, so he could be sure to capture all the excitement of us eating soup and making small talk.

  Dinner was fairly uneventful. We were all starving, and more focused on food than conversation. After dinner, Hal crawled into his tent, but I stayed by the fire. Devan handed my book to me.

  “You can hang onto it if you want,” I said. “I’ve already read it. Like twelve times.”

  “Really? You like it that much?” he asked, sounding surprised.

  “Yeah, I know I’m a nerd.”

  “I’m going to be an anthropology major,” he replied. “Doesn’t get any nerdier than that.”

  I smiled at him and he returned my smile. “Good point. So what makes you want to study anthropology? Is it the family business?”

  Devan shook his head. “Not exactly. There’re some similarities, but my parents are both really focused on ancient art and artifacts. I want to study societies and cultures right now. I think it’s the best way to try to help solve contemporary problems, like poverty and inequality.”

  We just gazed at each other for a moment. It was surprisingly nice getting to know who he was outside of the contest. I think I looked away first, but he started babbling nervously.

  “Anyway, the troll book is an excellent read, but I haven’t read the first book in the series, so the elf and troll politics were a bit difficult to follow,” he said seriously.

  “Sorry. I forgot it was the sequel,” I said.

  “So give me the rundown of the first book.” He leaned forward, looking genuinely interested.

  I rambled on and on about the different tribes of trolls. Devan listened and asked questions. He laughed at my enthusiastic retelling once or twice, and told me about a few books he had liked in the same fantasy genre. Eventually he rubbed his eyes and I glanced at my watch. It was past midnight. We were having such a nice time, I hadn’t even noticed.

  “I’m sorry I kept you up so late,” I said.

  He tilted his head so his eyes found mine. “Don’t be.”

  Hal’s mighty snoring reverberated from within his tent. Devan lifted himself up with his good arm and walked around the campfire to the camera, still on its tripod. He flicked the power off and the red light went out. Staring at the dormant machine, a huge wave of relief swept over me. I hadn’t realized how tense I had been with the camera constantly watching.

  “Oh, my god, thank you!” I said, twisting my neck from side to side, letting all of the tension go.

  “I can’t bear having that thing staring at me anymore tonight,” he said.

  We both took off our body mics and turned them off as well. Enough was enough.

  He sat next to me and leaned a little closer. Our shoulders were almost touching, and the heat practically radiated from him.

  “I can’t believe you just threw this splint together. You’re really incredible,” he said.

  I pushed my hair behind my ears, flustered that he was so close. “I’m really not. I just paid attention in Girl Scouts.” When he didn’t laugh I added, “Never mind, just a joke.”

  “I get it. But . . .” He trailed off, looking at me quizzically.

  I bent my head down, feeling like I had lettuce in my teeth or had done something equally embarrassing. “What?”

  “You do that a lot,” he said.

  Okay, now I felt like fake Barbie hair under the microscope.

  “Do what?” I asked.

  Devan softened his voice. “You make a joke whenever people compliment you. When you were at the cabin, Sophie would tell you how wonderful you are, and every time, you’d laugh it off.”

  Devan’s eyes were on me when I lifted my head. I held his gaze, trying not to blush or shrug. I ended up doing both. “I know. But come on, it’s not a huge deal. Of course, I take care of Sophie. She’s my sister.”

  He continued to study me. It was becoming more and more unnerving. “I think you enjoy taking care of everyone. You took care of me and my arm.”

  I barked out a quick laugh. “I was pretty much to blame for your arm, if you’ll remember.”

  His mouth twisted in a sardonic grin. “Vividly. But that’s not all. I saw your face. You were ready to go two rounds with Dr. DeGraw for me.”

  “Well, that’s because she called my family rural rednecks. She’s a bully. I hate the way she treats you. I mean, I hate the way she treats people.” With each word, my voice got louder and my indignation increased. Hal’s snores stopped for a moment, but then resumed with a snort.

  More quietly, I said, “I’m sorry, I know you admire her and she’s your mentor, and she’s super accomplished and all, but that doesn’t mean I have to like her.”

  Devan’s mouth suddenly returned to its usual grim line. I worried I’d ruined our pleasant truce, but Dr. DeGraw was a heinous, snobby witch. I didn’t care if he agreed. But then, for the millionth time that day, Devan surprised me with a conspiratorial grin.

  “I don’t like her either, if you want to know the truth. You’re right about her being a bully,” he said, poking at the glowing embers in the fire pit, which bounced up and made him jump back.

  “Do you really think your dad would be upset if you didn’t win this stupid TV contest?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, to be honest.” He stared at the ground, rubbing one eye and then the other. “I guess I’d rather not find out. I just think about how if they’re distracted, one wrong move could jeopardize their lives. They go into the most dangerous places. I get why they do it. They’re not just rescuing art, they’re rescuing cultures, and ancient history and someone’s heritage from looting and war. It’s important work.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t want to put them in the position of not being one hundred percent focused while they’re there. So the easiest thing is to do what’s expected of me. I’ll just get through this last year at Netherfield, somehow, and then I can escape and go to college.”

  “Sounds like you really hate it there. I can’t imagine your parents want you to be miserable, just to make them happy.”

  “Perhaps,” he said. “But if I’m safe and getting good grades that means they don’t have to worry about me.” He didn’t utter any other words, but tension took up residence in his shoulders and his jaw.

  “I always thought boarding school kids were so lucky. You have so much more freedom, and you’re practically guaranteed a spot at an Ivy League school,” I said.

  “I guess that’s true, but what’s so great about living out of suitcases and not having your own room?” Devan asked. “And never celebrating your birthday with your family?”

  “I guess it does sound a little lonely, when you put it that way.”

  He nodded thoughtfully as he reached out his good hand to warm it by the fire. “It was really hard at first, especially being at such a white school. When I got there, I remember looking all over for the other brown faces that I saw in the brochure for the school. I even asked someone my first week, ‘Hey, where are the people in the photo?’ The guy told me, ‘Oh, Omar and Angela? They graduated two years ago.’ ” Devan let out a small rueful laugh.

  I bit my lip, a little sad for him. “Are people mean to you?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve had some run-ins with people in the town who’ve yelled racist crap at me, and one even pushed me, which was scary.”

  “Oh my god!” I said. “That
’s awful.”

  Devan shrugged. “It’s not like that at school. It’s more that they’re unintentionally rude, or they treat me differently. I really felt like I didn’t fit in at first, which made being away from home harder. But then I eventually made some friends, like Kyle and Caroline, and now it’s not so bad.”

  “I know what you mean about not fitting in,” I said, choosing my words carefully, still shaken by what he’d told me. “We’re pretty much the only Jewish family in my small town. When I was younger, I hated that we were different. My dad would write letters to the editor about how the paper wasn’t reporting on anti-Semitic graffiti in the cemetery where my family is buried or the bomb threats to our temple. He’d get hate mail because of it.”

  Devan shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I understand why my dad spoke out, and I can appreciate it now, but when you’re little, it’s embarrassing to be different.”

  “And at least he doesn’t embarrass you anymore,” Devan smirked, apparently changing the subject to a lighter topic.

  “Ha!” I barked, then caught myself before I started to really laugh, conscious of not waking up Hal. “Yeah, now we’re not just the weird Jewish family, we’re the super weird Bigfoot hunters. I’m dreading going back to school once this show has aired.”

  Devan sighed and I could see the pity in his eyes. “Me too,” he added in a whisper. “If DeGraw even lets me back in.”

  My stomach churned with indecision. I would hate it if he got kicked out of Netherfield his senior year because of me. I wanted to go to college more than anything, but not at his expense. However, I had my own problems. Regardless of the fact that Devan wasn’t as bad as I originally thought, I still had to put my family first. I reached out my hand, and then pulled it back. I fought the urge to give Devan a hug. We might be getting along, but I wasn’t confident we were on hugging terms. I settled for putting my hand lightly on his back, over his shoulder blade.

  When I touched him, electricity shot up my arm, and everything around me became blurry, except for Devan. He peered at me sideways, like he was surprised, too. I thought maybe I should back away, but my arm wouldn’t obey—it wanted to stay attached to his shoulder. He didn’t pull away either, but instead leaned against my side. It was a tiny, gentle movement that caused my heart to pound so loudly, I was afraid he would hear it.

  I had no idea how long we sat together like that, staring into the glowing embers of the fire. The logs had burnt down to coals, and low flames flickered. A cool breeze swooped through the valley, but Devan’s strong back under my hand, rising and falling with each breath, warmed me all the way up to my intoxicated head.

  The wind stirred up the embers and one of the sparks floated up to the sky. A boundless sea of stars shone down on us. I gasped at the unexpected beauty. How had I not noticed it before? Devan’s mouth turned upward in a hopeful smile. Without a word, we both laid down on our backs, hands at our sides, to marvel at the clear, twinkling night sky. He reached out and took my hand in his uninjured one and the stars seemed to grow even brighter. It was magical how the soft warmth of his hand drove away every anxious thought I’d had that week. I let go of all the worries, anger, and memories of hurtful words.

  “So beautiful,” I breathed.

  Devan sat up and turned toward me, his handsome face staring at me, lips slightly open. I rose to meet him.

  With his good hand, he brushed a wispy stray curl off my forehead then put his warm palm against my cheek.

  “Very beautiful,” he whispered, gazing at me while his finger traced my chin, making me shiver.

  Devan closed the distance between us and kissed me gently right next to my ear. I couldn’t help myself, I sighed. He looked at me with a shy smile, which I returned. He then angled his face toward my lips and I trembled with anticipation, like some inexperienced geek, which, honestly, I kind of was. But, then I noticed he was shaking too, and before I had time to worry anymore about whether I knew what I was doing, he kissed me.

  He was tentative at first, his soft lips moving slowly against mine, kissing my bottom lip, then my top. He tasted slightly like toasted marshmallows, which was now my absolute favorite taste. Who knew s’mores could be so sexy? I tilted my head up, wanting more. I nipped his lip in encouragement, teasing him with my teeth.

  A deep chuckle escaped the back of his throat. Devan pressed himself closer to me, kissing me more deeply, intensely, his tongue seeking mine out, warming me all over.

  I moaned, pulling him even closer to me until my major organs melted into molten lava and I just didn’t care. All that mattered were his lips on mine, his hand winding its way through my hair, all tangled up.

  Holy crap! I’m kissing Devan. And it’s freaking wonderful. And confusing.

  We kissed and kissed. I threw my hands around his back and he traced circles along my spine. Eventually, Devan ran out of breath and pulled away, staring into my eyes, gauging my reaction.

  I gulped and my eyes widened, trying to slow my heart down, to no avail. The boy had serious kissing skills. I was in completely over my head. All that energy I had put into controlling everything, and a few amazing kisses later, I could barely control breathing in and out.

  “Mmm. More,” I said, pulling him back to me for another kiss. The crackle of the fire echoed the heat between us.

  Eventually we stopped to catch our breath again. He returned to his position at my side, but this time he wound his arm around my waist.

  I snuck a glance at him, trying not to stare. His hair was rumpled and his eyes were shining. He returned my gaze and we sat in a happy post-kissing haze for a long moment, until I broke the spell with a frown.

  What had just happened? What the hell was I doing? How could I kiss Devan, the enemy? Devan, who had insulted me and my family at every turn, and who was clearly so appalled by the idea of my sister dating his friend?

  Because he wasn’t just “Devan, the Competition” anymore. He was now also “Devan, the Sweet, Caring Guy Who Thought I Was Beautiful and Made Me Feel All Sorts of Things I Hadn’t Felt Before.” My head swirled, and I suddenly needed to get away. I had to think about Devan and the contest.

  I couldn’t be this close to him and not end up cuddling or making out with him again. If this night taught me anything it was that we were both drawn to each other. That wasn’t what I needed right now.

  I pulled out of his embrace and opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. I studied the fire in front of me, avoiding his eyes. Devan grabbed my hand, but I wrestled it away.

  I scooted away from him, hating myself more with every inch I retreated. “We should get some sleep,” I muttered. His eyebrows knit together, and he squinted in confusion. Then I stood and stammered, “Sorry, I . . . I don’t know.”

  I practically ran to my tent without looking back.

  Chapter 23

  “The females of the species are quite picky about their partners, often choosing to be alone rather than with the wrong mate. Luckily, the females are strong. They can defend themselves.”

  —“Love and Loss in a Bigfoot Pack”

  Shortly after I stormed off, I heard Devan throw water on the embers of the dying fire, causing an angry hiss of steam to cut through the night. It was followed by the zip of his tent flap, and then silence. Not the sweet kind, the tense kind.

  I threw my head back, and gazed at the stars through the mesh of my tent, and let out the huge breath constricting my chest. Maybe I overreacted. It was just a kiss. Okay, a few kisses. Really awesomely good ones, but I didn’t have to lose my mind like that, right?

  “Arrgh.” I struggled to get comfortable, lying on one side, then my back. The small inflatable pillow leaked out air, just like my brain let out a steady stream of arguments for and against those kisses. The jury in my head knew I couldn’t allow myself to become attached to Devan. But my still-tingly lips wanted to keep deliberating.

  I groaned and str
etched when the sun rose over the mountains. My knees and hips made loud cracking noises like those of a little old lady. I exited the tent, breathing in the tangy, tension-scented air. The overcast sky closely resembled the murky shades of gray rumbling around in my undecided mind.

  “Morning.” Devan approached me, quietly, like I was an unpredictable wild animal.

  I turned and faced him. “Hey.”

  He stood a good five feet from me, a stark contrast to the previous night. The distance almost hurt. My lips were still swollen from our make-out session, and my heart hadn’t recovered either, judging by the bass drum roll in my chest.

  His eyes searched mine, looking for an answer. I knew the question on his mind: why the hell did I run off the night before? But he didn’t ask and I didn’t offer an answer.

  “Um, where should we start today?” he asked instead.

  Devan deferring to me was further proof things were weird between us.

  I played with my hair, unsure what to do with my traitorous fingers that wanted to touch him. Instead of his warm skin, my hands found crunchy leaves in my hair, left from last night’s kisses, no doubt. I picked them out and dropped them to the ground. Anything to dodge his accusing eyes. Chewing my lip, I willed myself to focus. If he was going to let me take charge, I’d do it. I was still undecided about how much I should help him, but since we were working together as a team, I could put off that worry for now.

  I surveyed the area to our west. “We’re way behind because of your arm,” I said. “We need to get serious about the challenge. I haven’t seen any more fake clues, which means they’re either really well hidden or we’re in the wrong place.”

  He frowned at what I said, or how I said it. Who could tell?

  “Right. Let’s have a quick bite and set out,” he said.

  We ate a few granola bars quietly, with only Hal’s oblivious chatter breaking up the awkward silence. Then we started our search.

  “Why don’t I look up at the trees, and you stick to the ground? This way we can cover twice as much territory,” Devan suggested.