Shine and Shimmer (Glitter and Sparkle #2)

by Shari L. Tapscott

  I, personally, didn’t sleep all that well. Yesterday evening, when we got back to camp, Linus was all easy smiles, like he hadn’t just shattered me with one sentence. We didn’t talk to each other the rest of the night, but everyone else was loud enough, so we didn’t really have to.

  Since I’m not a camping newbie, I shoved today’s clothes at the end of my sleeping bag before I went to sleep last night. They’re not exactly toasty warm, but they’re not as cold as everything else in the tent. I get dressed in my bag and then tie on my trail running shoes.

  Quietly so I don’t wake up Lauren, I give Harper’s bag a shake. “I’m going for a run. I’ll be back by breakfast.”

  My sister groans and mutters something about not being eaten by a mountain lion, and then she rolls over and goes back to sleep.

  The cool outside air hits me as soon as I unzip the tent. I stretch and wrap my hair up in a messy knot. The sky is a pale blue, but it’s lighter on the horizon. It will probably be another thirty minutes before the sun’s up.

  Before I go, I rummage in the dry goods box that we’ve locked in Harper’s SUV, looking for one of the protein bars I brought.

  “You’re up early.”

  I jump and accidentally drop the lid on my hand. I turn to look at Linus, glaring.

  He smiles and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Sorry.”

  Unsure what to say to him, I eye him and then go back to the box. “What are you doing up?”

  “I didn’t sleep well.”

  After letting the words soak in for a moment, I turn to look at him from over my shoulder, then relax a bit when I see he looks just as uncomfortable as I am. “Do you run, Video Game Geek?”

  He smiles and looks away, shaking his head at the jab. “I’m pretty sure I can keep up with you.”

  I turn back, protein bar in hand. “That almost sounds like a challenge.”

  “Let me go change my shoes.”

  “You’re not going to run in boots?” I point to his feet.

  Grinning, he leans just a little closer. “Not unless there’s a bear on my heels.”

  “Like a real bear? Or a video game bear?” I give him a sweet smile.

  “You’re a lot of fun in the mornings.”

  Five minutes later, we’re walking down the trail, warming up. The morning is so cold, I can see my breath, and my muscles are tight after over a week of inactivity.

  “Ready?” Linus says after I jam the bar wrapper into my hoodie. He’s already started jogging, and I join him, not about to be left behind.

  We don’t talk, just run. My muscles loosen after about five minutes, and at about twenty minutes it’s feeling pretty good. To my surprise, Linus keeps up just fine. In fact, I have to push myself to keep up with him.

  By the time we’ve looped back to the campground, the sun has peeked over the mountains. Brandon and Harrison are standing over a campfire, Harrison with coffee already in hand. And though the sun has just crested the mountain, Brandon’s already drinking a soda.

  Harper digs through the cooler and pulls out eggs and a package of bacon. Lauren’s bundled up, just like last night, and her hair sticks up in strange ways. She scowls into her steaming cup of tea, looking a bit like a very pretty troll. If we want to bring her on any more camping trips, we might want to invest in an RV.

  “Good run?” Harper asks when she sees us.

  She’s got her blond hair up in a ponytail with a thick stretchy headband holding it back from her face. She looks cute and fresh. And, oddly, she’s wearing one of Brandon’s jackets.

  I’ll have to ask her about that later.

  “Yeah, it was great,” I say, plopping onto one of the chairs. With the sun up, it’s not nearly as cold as it was when we left camp. Soon it will be warm enough for long-sleeve tees.

  “You like bacon, Linus?” Brandon asks as he sets a large cast iron skillet on the grate over the fire.

  Linus doesn’t know it, but this is an important question. Brandon likes bacon almost as much as he likes donuts, which I see he’s already helped himself to. I lean toward the camp table, letting my folding chair rise onto two legs, and snatch a cinnamon sugar donut for myself.

  “Who doesn’t like bacon?” Linus asks.

  Brandon shoots me an approving look, but I only take a huge bite of donut in reply.

  “Seriously, Riley,” Brandon says, teasing. “You’re the only girl I know who will go for a run and then stuff herself with junk food.”

  “She’s the only girl who can get away with it,” Lauren grumps, but she tempers the words with a smile.

  I wipe the powdered sugar off my mouth and stick out my tongue.

  “Classy,” Brandon laughs.

  “What are we doing today?” Lauren asks, looking slightly less miserable now that the sun has reached the campsite.

  “Collecting pine cones to hot glue into a wreath and douse with glitter later?” Harrison grins at Lauren with such wicked affection, I swear I would melt if I were in her shoes. Because I know Linus is watching me, I’m careful to keep my eyes off the pair just in case he mistakes my casual interest for envy.

  “And paint hot pink,” she says to her boyfriend, raising a wry brow.

  He kneels in front of her. “Naturally.”

  When he leans forward to kiss her, I pointedly look at the fire.

  “Make yourself useful.” Harper deposits a slightly soggy carton of eggs into my lap. I glance up at my sister, and she gives me a sympathetic smile.

  I nod and pull myself to my feet.

  ***

  The guys are pretending to be lumberjacks, clearing out nearby dead wood for tonight’s campfire, when Lauren corners me. We had another little storm late this morning, but it’s clear now and so sunny it’s almost hot. She’s ditched her jackets and blankets, and she’s actually collecting pine cones.

  I sort of thought that was a joke, but I should have known better.

  “Linus is the guy from Main Street,” she says as she picks up another one and studies it like it’s a piece of clay.

  I stretch my back. “Yep.”

  She meets my eyes. “I don’t care if you swear you’re just friends. You like him.”

  “So?” I ask, a little defensive. “What difference does it make?”

  “Why are you fighting it? He’s great, Riley.”

  “I like Zeke.”

  “The guy from the restaurant? The one who was with that other girl?”

  “What difference does that make? We haven’t even gone out yet; it’s not like we’re exclusive.”

  She shrugs, but I can tell she’s worried about me.

  “We can’t all have a Harrison,” I say under my breath, and then wish I hadn’t.

  Looking hurt and surprised, she purses her lips and looks away.

  Why? Why did I have to go there? This is awkward enough without me making it worse. It’s not like any of this is her fault. It’s not. I’m the one who tried to butt in between them in the first place. It was always Harrison and Lauren. I knew that.

  “I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “I don’t know what my problem is.”

  Yes, I do. This is the first time we’ve all been thrown together like this. It’s just a lot.

  “Did you and Linus get into an argument last night?” she asks.

  “Kind of. I don’t know.” I rub my neck. “I think we’re good now, though.”

  “He really likes you. You know that, right?”

  I glance through the trees at the guys and remember last night. “He’s kind of sending me mixed signals.”

  Lauren pins me with her eyes. “Are you sure you’re not the one sending those mixed signals? You can be pretty intimidating.”

  “Me?”

  She cocks her head to the side. “Yes, you, Miss Pretty Blond Cheerleader.”

  I shake my head, but I smile.

  “You know what the old Riley would do?” Lauren asks as she sets the pine cone aside and picks up a short bough.

  “En
lighten me.”

  Shooting me a mischievous look, she says, “She’d kiss him to test the waters and then figure out what to do with him later.”

  “You want me to just go over there and plant one on him?” I ask, incredulous.

  Lauren apparently likes the branch because she tucks it under her arm and continues hunting for pine cones. “It’s an idea.”

  I turn back toward Linus. He’s standing with Brandon and Harrison, and they’re laughing as Brandon takes an ax to a large dead branch. He looks comfortable with them, fits into our group easily. Maybe Lauren is right.

  Confusion weighs on my shoulders, a gray blanket of uncertainty. Choosing to ignore it for now, I turn my attention back to Lauren. “What are you going to do with those anyway?”

  She looks over and grins in an evil way. “I’m going to paint them pink, douse them in glitter, and then hang them on Harrison’s door. What else?”

  ***

  “Hey,” Linus says over his shoulder when he sees me. He snaps another picture of the ravine with his phone and then slides it into his pocket.

  “And here I was thinking you were hiding over here, playing games on your phone,” I tease.

  I waited all afternoon to get Linus alone, and now that he is, I’m not sure what to say to him. I keep thinking about what Lauren suggested.

  “Would you believe I don’t have any games on my phone?” he asks.

  The ravine is washed with afternoon light, and a hawk rides an air current not far from us. A lazy creek winds through the valley below. It’s quite the spot he’s found.

  “Not likely. Everyone has games on their phones.”

  He raises a challenging eyebrow and pulls the cell out of his pocket. When I don’t take it, he jiggles it a few times. “Well, go on.”

  “It’s dangerous to give a girl your phone,” I say.

  “Why’s that?”

  I browse the apps. “Because I now have access to your entire little black book.”

  Linus laughs. “That’s not really an issue. If you’re worried you’re going to find something tawdry, feel free to browse my texts to put your mind at ease.”

  “There really aren’t any games on here.” I hand the phone back, purposefully staying clear of his texts.

  “I have much better games at home. I don’t need my phone for entertainment.”

  “You any good?” I turn so we’re shoulder to shoulder, looking out over the ravine. “At these games of yours?”

  “Not to brag, but, yeah, I’m pretty good.” He turns, his eyes bright. “Change your mind? Want to give it a try?”

  Laughing, I shake my head. “No.”

  The conversation ebbs, and we stand here, silent. The hawk circles and eventually flies out of view.

  “Do you know pigs don’t sweat?” I ask out of nowhere, remembering it from the other day.

  Startled, Linus looks at me with a questioning look on his face. “I’m afraid just about everyone knows that. From what I gather, their sweat glands are ineffectual.”

  “Did you know that the phrase ‘sweating like a pig’ comes from the iron smelting process?” I found that little tidbit online.

  Linus studies me for a moment, and then he raises an eyebrow as a smile toys at his lips. “No. I didn’t know that.”

  Feeling irrationally smug, I shrug. “Well, now you do.”

  His eyes drop to my hand. Casually, he runs his thumb down my wrist, to my palm. I stand here, holding my breath, my entire focus on my hand. One by one, he traces my fingers. Once he’s finished, he twines his fingers through mine and presses our palms together. Then, without a word, he turns back toward the valley, and, together, we watch the sunset.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Just like yesterday evening, Linus has wandered away from the group. I find him staring at a rock, reading something on his phone, and then staring at the rock again.

  As quietly as possible, I tiptoe behind him. “What are you doing?”

  He jumps, almost dropping his phone. Then he glances over his shoulder and quickly pockets the cell. “Riley.”

  “Okay.” I hold out my hand. “You were caught. What are you doing on there?”

  Sighing, he sets the phone in my hand. I glance at the app, which has some kind of GPS information on it. “What’s a geocache?” I scroll through the page and stumble on a comment section. Then I meet his eyes and give him an incredulous look. “Is this some kind of…virtual treasure hunt?”

  He laughs, but his face flushes. “Something like that.”

  “What do you do?”

  “People leave containers with registers in them. If you can track them down, you sign your name and then put them back for the next person to find.”

  “Why?” I peer again at his phone. Whatever Linus was looking for, it should be within five feet.

  He snatches his phone back. “There isn’t a purpose. It’s just fun. And when you find one, you check it off the app.”

  I blink at him. “Is this like that Poke—”

  “No.” He gives me looks so full of disgust, I suppress a laugh and let it go.

  “Okay. Got it.” I look back at the phone. “So, if you have the most, you’re kind of a geeky rock star?”

  “Something like that.”

  Curious, I peer at the rock we’re in front of. “What does a geocache look like?”

  Linus pulls a small flashlight off his belt and starts looking in crevices. “It can be anything. They’re usually small canisters.”

  I kneel, examining the ground. “How do you find them?”

  “You just look for something out of the ordinary.”

  “Like a piece of bailing wire?” Gingerly, I tug a loop that’s well hidden in the weeds at the base of the rock. To my surprise, a tiny medicine bottle wrapped in camouflage duct tape comes up with it. “I think I found it!”

  I hand the container to Linus, and he unscrews the top. Inside, there’s a rolled-up piece of paper, two buttons, and a small strand of beads.

  “What is all this?” I take a button from him and examine it.

  He pulls a pen from his pocket, unfurls the paper, and writes his name. “When people find a geocache, they sometimes leave little trinkets.”

  “What are you going to put in?”

  Finished, he rolls the paper back up. “Nothing. I’m just signing the register.”

  “That’s boring.”

  He raises an eyebrow.

  “Well, it is,” I argue. I dig in my pockets but find nothing. I think about it for several more moments. “Give me a minute.”

  I run back to camp, root around in Harper’s glove box, and then come back, triumphant. I find Linus leaning against the rock, looking a little bored. Still, he waited.

  When he spots me, I hold up a little Texas sticker that came off a brochure Harper had in her car.

  “Nice,” he says as he drops it into the bottle.

  “So…are there any more?”

  “You want to do more of this geeky treasure hunt stuff?”

  “It’s better than fishing, and that’s what the others are going to do.”

  “All right.” He pulls the app back up. “Let’s see what else we can find.”

  ***

  The next geocache is several miles down a nearby hiking trail. Unlike yesterday, there isn’t a hint of cloud cover. The trail is open to bikes, but when Linus didn’t bring his, I didn’t bother with borrowing Marissa’s, either.

  “So, what are your parents doing in Florida?” I ask.

  “They met my aunt and uncle, and they’re spending some time in the Keys.”

  I stop to shake a rock out of my shoe. “I think I would have figured out a way to tag along.”

  Linus shrugs. “I don’t mind house sitting, and they wouldn’t have agreed to go away for an entire summer if they didn’t have someone to watch the place.”

  “When do you start school again?”

  “Toward the end of August.”

  I nod and try to
think of a different subject. “So, how do you know so much about soap?”

  “I’m a chemistry major.”

  The sun beats down on us, and the air is heavy with moisture, leftover from the frequent storms. Though the patches of shade are cool, most of the trail isn’t sheltered from the direct midday sunshine. I stop for a moment, stretching as a warm, welcome breeze blows over us. The aspen leaves quake, sounding more like a nearby stream than trees.

  “So, you probably have a pair of stylish goggles of your own.”

  He stops with me and takes a gulp from his hydration backpack. “I do, but mine aren’t nearly as classy as yours.”

  I laugh, thankful that things are easy between us once again. “What do you plan to do with this chemistry degree?”

  “Originally, I was going to focus on research, but now, after spending time with Mr. McAfee’s kids, I think I might like to teach.”

  “Yeah?” I ask, warming even more to him.

  Linus glances over, smiling. “Yeah. As an only child, I actually didn’t know how much I enjoyed kids.”

  “You’re an only child?” I’d never thought to ask. “What was that like?”

  “Quiet, but I never felt like I was missing something. My parents were great, and we’re close.”

  I try to imagine what my life would be like without Harper or the twins, but I can’t. “Do you ever wish you had a sister or brother?”

  We find a shaded spot and sit side-by-side on a large boulder. Linus thinks about my question for several moments before he answers, “Not when I was younger. But you know what I’m really going to miss?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Nieces and nephews. Down the road, if I marry someone who is also an only child, I will never have any.”

  I’d never thought about that, not at all. “I guess that would be kind of sad.”

  “Not something you’re going to have to worry about, huh?”

  I shake my head. I can see Harper with a mom haircut, driving a whole mess of kids around in a dorky minivan, going to soccer practices, piano recitals, and gymnastic meets.

  “So, did you camp as a kid?” I ask.