Page 95 of The False Flat

And then I wanted all the answers all at once, an overnight fix to my problems.

I looked down at the notes I’d typed into my phone, tried to concentrate. Grant had divided up a series of interesting spots along the ride and had tasked each of us with being tour guide for a portion of the trip. A large, unspoiled area called May Prairie was one of the first locations we would encounter, and it was my responsibility.

I found myself texting Hannah, who’d told me to text her if I needed her. I never intended to, but my finger pressed send, cuing a pit to sprout in my stomach.

Me: Erin got married.

She texted back right away. I glanced at Grant, who was staring out the window, deep in thought. I looked back at my phone.

Hannah: How does that make you feel?

Me: Inadequate.

Hannah: Why?

I glanced at Grant again. Then started typing, erasing, typing again. Should I pay her for this text exchange?

Me: I don’t know.

Me: She’s making a mistake and I should’ve

Me: Shouldn’t I be sure about Grant by now?

I went there, to the question that had been eating at me ever since Erin had spilled her big news.

“They’re here.” He opened his car door. I jumped and dropped my phone onto the floorboard.

William, wearing a skintight Spider-Man one-piece, headed straight for the trunk, where Grant helped remove bicycles and equipment.

Deanna met me halfway between the cars. She was adorable in a black suit with a single spider on the left shoulder and her hair in a ponytail.

“Are you supposed to be the Black Widow?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes and pulled at the fabric. “William’s idea, since we’re close to Halloween. I think I’m too curvy for all this spandex.”

“There’s no such thing as too curvy.”

“Breakfast.” She handed me a large paper sack.

I unfolded the bag and peeked in. Muffins.

“Sorry we’re late.” She pointed back to the bag in my hands. “Pumpkin muffins, packed full of yummy things that’ll keep us going.”

Grant materialized beside us. “We’re almost set. The gear is evenly distributed, and we have everything we need.”

We scarfed the muffins.

“You’re not going to eat the rest?” Deanna asked Grant, who was wrapping half of his up.

“Just pacing myself,” he said.

“You didn’t like them?”

He sighed. “Deanna, they were lovely. I don’t eat much at the start of a ride. Ask them.” He tipped his head toward William and me.

I nodded.

Deanna put her arm through her brother’s. “Are you sure you feel up to doing this ride?”