Page 27 of Forged By Shadows
Entering the kitchen, I instantly smell coffee. Dax spots us in the doorway and smirks, grabbing another two cups. Garrett and Axel are facing away from us, sitting on stools to be hunched over the island. Axel is still, leaning on his hands, while Garrett’s shoulders are flexing as he eats his breakfast. I approach, giving him a wide berth. Maybe, inhaling would be a better way to describe the way he’s attacking a plate piled high with waffles, bacon rashers and a thick layer of syrup. Dax puts a cup in my hand.
“Do you have any aspirin for Meg?” I briefly take my eyes away from Garrett’s knife and fork to address Dax. He’s leaning against the counter, his biceps stretching against the cotton sleeves of his black shirt. His slacks have been pressed and shoes have been shined. Reaching for a packet on the windowsill, Dax smiles when he catches me checking him out. That’s right, he has his board meeting today. “Thanks,” I pass the meds over to my best friend who has slumped over the island. “We’ll be quick and get going.”
Suddenly, Garrett’s head shoots upright, his mouth full of food. “Where are you going?!” he muffles, but that’s not why my jaw drops. Deep purple blemishes mark his beautiful face, his eyes black and nose busted. By his side, Axel looks over to me gravely, a sigh passing through his taut lips.
“Holy shit, Garrett!” I step forward and place down my cup. “Are you okay? What…wait, was it-”
“Totally worth it? Hell yeah.” Somehow, through his bruises and split lip, he grins. Within the dark rings, his brown eyes glisten with mischief and he manages a wink, albeit a slow, painful one. It seems I wasn’t the only one Wyatt paid a visit to last night. On cue, Huxley walks into the room, assesses his injured friend and rolls his eyes.
“One of us is going to have to straighten this shit out,” Huxley mumbles, passing by me as if last night didn’t happen. I’m thankful for it. Being vulnerable isn’t something I like having advertised. The air around the kitchen shifts, unbeknownst to Meg. She swallows her meds, drinks her coffee and grabs my wrist.
“Come on then. Let’s get on with this torture.” I purse my lips, being tugged along behind her.
“It’s called a hike, and it’s good for you.” Waving goodbye over my shoulder, I wriggle out of Meg’s grip once we’re free of the house. Resisting the urge to look back and see if my hunch that Wyatt is standing in one of the windows is right, I lead the way through side alleys and shortcuts back to the dorm block. Meg’s bright pink BMW is shining in the morning rays, sticking out from the rest of the cars in the parking lot.
Kay is nowhere to be seen in our dorm, which is expected. Whilst waiting for Meg to perk up, I wash, change into my activewear and prep the picnic basket I had delivered through the week. It came pre-packed with dry snacks, but I figured we’ll grab some pastries and drinks along the way. Rolling a blanket and stuffing it between the handles, Meg emerges from the communal showers, seeming much more herself. Her eyes have their intense topaz appeal back, her brown hair pulled into a high ponytail. I’ve done something similar to mine, leaving a few blonde wisps free at the front.
“For the record, next time - I’m planning the activities,” Meg smirks. I concede, knowing they would include binging a romance series and doing face masks. Something we’ve done a thousand times, but with such an active life at college, Meg prefers the comfort.
“Deal. Although, you have to admit, it’s nice to do something different for a change.” Holding my phone high in the air, we pose with our tongues out for the camera. I send the selfie to Nixon, promising him there will be many more today. He won’t believe I voluntarily opted to go for a hike, so photo evidence is needed.
We leave the dorm block, a skip in our step as we make our way over to Meg’s car. Just as we near, three figures step around the side, playful smiles on their faces. I quirk a brow at Huxley’s tanned boots and cargos, Garrett’s sweatpants and backwards cap, then Axel’s basketball jersey and the backpack he’s shouldering.
“Um…what are you guys doing?” I ask, already anticipating the reply. Striding forward, Huxley plucks the keys from Meg’s hand.
“You said we were going for a hike. What’s the destination?” His chocolate-filled eyes hold me hostage.
“Well, I thought we’d head to Silver Birch Creek, but when I say ‘we’, I didn’t mean…” It’s too late. Huxley is entering the driver’s seat, while Garrett slides into the back with a shit-eating grin and Meg giggles under her breath.
“I didn’t feel like driving anyway,” she half-shrugs. Taking the passenger seat, I don’t miss her extra little laugh that I’m now left shimmying into the middle in the back. Axel and Garrett sandwich me in, their arms and thighs pressed firmly against mine. Neither actively touches me throughout the entire drive, and somehow, that’s worse. After last night, the tension in my veins crackles with electricity, my mind reeling as I continually look over Garrett’s hands. His fingers are long and skilled. At least Wyatt had the decency to leave them alone.
After a brief stop at a bakery, we eventually turn into an off-road parking lot. It’s fairly busy, many wandering into the distance with trail maps and huge cameras looped around their necks. Hopping out in my Converse, I tie my pale pink hoodie around my waist and smooth down my tightly fitted leggings in the same color. They do wonders for my ass, the high waist band sitting just beneath a white crop top. Once Garrett has finished stuffing our snacks into the picnic basket, Meg links her arm through mine.
Silver Birch Creek, as the sign states over the entrance, consists of over two-thousand acres, historic mill ruins and guided hiking trails. ‘A Must-See,’ the internet declared when I was searching for things to do after Waversea. Although now we’re entering with three gorgeous men in tow, I’m all too aware of the judgy stares we’re receiving. Just a group of youths looking for a public gangbang, apparently.
We enter as a comfortable silence falls over our group. Each of us seems content to take in the wildlife, to appreciate the nature. It’s a stunning time of year to visit, with the leaves turning into vibrant oranges and reds. Huxley breaks apart first, strolling a small distance back. Garrett and Axel share tender looks, despite the sight of Garrett’s face. I’m still reeling over Wyatt’s actions, and Garrett’s too for that matter. Another reminder that I can’t become complacent around this lot. I never know what they’re thinking to do next.
Focusing on placing one foot in front of the other, we begin to climb a rocky slope. Trees line our path, birds tweeting from the branches and a perfectly blue-sky visible overhead. Garrett’s brown hair is swishing side to side as he dances to a song in his head, the basket swaying in the crook of his left arm while his fingers are intertwined with Axel’s on the right. I smile in earnest, catching Axel’s hazel gaze. There’s a sweetness to their relationship which doesn’t need a label. It just is.
We breach the tree line beside a wide, flowing stream. Thick boulders are scattered across the width, creating steppingstones we could follow all the way down the river. To the right is a raised outcrop the water pours from, creating a mini waterfall amongst the serenity. Craggy rocks protrude through the flow to form slippery ledges.
“First one to the top gets to make-out with Avery first!” Garrett suddenly shouts, shoving the picnic basket into Meg’s arms. I try to shout after the three of them that I’m not some prize to be won, but they’re already leaping across the boulders in a bid to reach the waterfall. There’s no way they’ll make it up there, but my heart thunders anyway.
Looking around the river, I notice a steep pathway winds alongside the mini cliff. A thin yet worn rope creates a barrier from the steep drops either side. Grabbing the basket, I’m shoving Meg in its direction with my teeth clenched.
“Bitch, move. You need to get to the top first,” I grind out. She’s still sluggish from last night but thankfully, the adrenaline starts to work inside of her. Pumping her legs in her little summer dress, leather jacket and biker boots, those years of lacrosse come in handy. We run as fast as the rocks crumbling beneath our feet will allow. A glance to our left shows the boys trying to drag each other down, too involved in their rivalry to notice us as we pass them. My calves begin to burn with the strain of a rushed climb but that doesn’t stop the smile spreading across my face.
Nearing the top of the cliffside, Meg skids to a stop and I narrowly avoid slamming into her back. Between us and the grassy planes awaiting the boys, is a thin, rickety bridge. In the excitement, Meg must have forgotten how high we were rising from the ground. Now there’s an open gap in the earth and a dark plummet awaiting underneath, she steps back into my arms.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I soothe her hair. “We don’t have to do this, we can just head back to the car and get out of here. Leave the guys to make-out with each other.” Meg laughs, despite the tremor in her voice.
“As if you wouldn’t prefer to watch.” We share a knowing look. Despite the figures scaling the waterfall nearing, I don’t rush her. “Okay,” Meg straightens and nods. I give a gentle tug on her hand, reassuring her we don’t need to do this, but she’s adamant.
As I watch her grip the flimsy rope like a lifeline and take tentative steps, I’m in awe of my best friend for the millionth time. She’s always so tough, stubborn to a fault, but she never lets her fears conquer her. Since we first met as young girls, me in her mom’s therapy office and her the free spirit sketching in the lobby, I’ve tried to model myself after her. I reckoned if I could have a scrap of her resilience, I would be alright eventually.
As her foot settles on the grass, she leaps forward and throws her arms in the air. I make quick work of the bridge, finding it’s rather steady after all, and join her cheering. The view up here is incredible; dense forest on either side of the river stretching for miles, its lush autumn colors sparkling in the sunlight. Fresh air mixed with salt and pine fill my senses and a gentle breeze caresses my face. It’s perfect.
Meg is quick to shrink down beside a tree, preferring not to stare out over the horizon. Axel spills over the ridge first, quickly followed by the others. They’re soaked through, shirts sticking to their bodies.
