Page 99 of River & Rue

“You packed five pairs.”

I shut up.

In minutes, Maya has two piles: essentials and only-if-there’s-room. Everything else is in a heap on the floor. Deferring to her expertise—she’s actually been camping before—I start repacking. She settles against the pillows with a gleam in her eye.

“Back to our previous conversation.”

“Ew.”

“Too bad. As your interim BFF, this convo is overdue and mandatory.” Her amusement fades. “You know I’m all for slow burns, but at a certain point it becomes torture for everyone involved—and by everyone, I mean you, River, and all of us subjected to your insane sexual tension. You guys need an intervention. Is there a literary term for something that speeds things along in a story?”

I shove a shirt in the bag with more force than necessary.

“Not that I think this is relevant to the topic, but yes. Depending on the story’s structure, it could be The Ordeal, Pinch Point, The Crisis, Dark Night of the Soul, or All is Lost.”

“Whoa, are there any that don’t sound depressing as hell?”

“Pre Climax.”

“Yes! We want climaxing. All the climaxing.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s still a darkest-before-dawn moment, and it still doesn’t apply. Sorry to disappoint, but there won’t be a Pre Climax, Climax, or Denouement—also known as the Happily Ever After—to this story.”

“Why not? He looks at you like you’re the center of his world, and no offense, but you light up like a Christmas tree around him. It’s obvious you have feelings for each other. Real feelings.” She hesitates, and her voice softens. “Do you really want to go home in two weeks without seeing where this could lead?”

This time, I can’t hide my flinch.

She sits up fast. “Rue? I know I’m not Ivy, but I’m in your corner. I want to support you like you’ve supported me. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have given Dan a chance, and I would’ve missed out on spending time with a seriously great guy.”

I cinch the backpack and close the flap, then meet her concerned gaze.

“I appreciate you, Maya—more than you know—but I can’t tell you what you want to hear. I may write fantasy worlds, but I don’t live in one. When I get home, I have to tell Ivy everything and beg her to forgive me. That potentially life-altering disaster aside, River and I don’t have a future together. He’s famous and lives a fast, exciting life. I’m a homebody with a semi-truck of trauma and enough trust issues to send a psychotherapist into early retirement.”

Maya’s expression twists in surprise before softening with sympathy. We’ve grown close enough that she knows I don’t talk about my childhood, and this is the nearest I’ve come to telling her why.

“Are you afraid he’ll sleep with you, then walk away like it was nothing?”

I did, however, tell her about my disastrous dating history during a late-night soak in the hot springs our second week here.

Swallowing thickly, I drop my gaze to the backpack between us.

“River might hold out a little longer than the others, but yes. Eventually, he’ll realize I’m too much work. And this time, I’ll be left with no best friend, no family, no home. I’ve lost them all before, and I… I won’t survive a second time. No man, however perfect he may seem, is worth that risk.”

When Maya doesn’t say anything, I look up and find her staring past me with wide, horrified eyes. Then I hear it—a creak from the front room. My stomach does a sickening whirl, and I whip around in time to see the front door close with a soft snick.

“Oh no. Oh fuck.” Lightheaded with panic, I turn back to Maya. “He was supposed to be with Dan. They were meeting us at the trailhead.”

“I know. I—I didn’t see him until…” She shakes her head helplessly. “I have no idea how much he heard.”

I clutch my head with shaking hands. “Well, there you have it. A story beat in real time.”

“Which one?”

Maya’s voice is almost as shrill as my answering laugh.

“The Catastrophe.”

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