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a page as if this observation surprised him. “Are you one of those people who writes in perfectly straight lines in your notebook?”

“I don’t have a notebook….I mean, I have a notebook, but it’s only for class notes, so yes, my lines are pretty straight.”

“My class notes look very much like this.” He patted the page filled with different colors of ink and scribbled out words and sideways words.

“Do you ever expect to actually find the things you write down after you write them?”

“It’s organized chaos. Trust me.” He flipped to a page where the lyrics we’d worked on at the beginning of the week were written. “Any inspiration strike since last time?”

I read through the lyrics twice. “Yes, actually. I was thinking about how the lines so far are about history and starting over, and then it says ‘It’s time for change.’ What if we continued with that theme of time?”

“Yeah…”

“I know this song was inspired by your life and your dad, but could we also make it apply to relationships? Then it will become instantly relatable to nearly everyone who hears it.”

“If people can relate to it, they like it more.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay, so whose past relationships are we going to draw inspiration from? Mine or yours?”

I froze with the question, then finally stuttered, “It…it’s your song.”

“A reaction like that has a story. Let’s hear it.”

An image of Trent played in my mind. He was smiling and laughing. And then he was looking past me, his eyes softening. I followed his gaze to Shay. Was this a memory playing in my head or just something I’d conjured up since the betrayal? I didn’t even know anymore. “I trust too easily in relationships,” I said. “I like to think the best of people. And maybe I need to stop that.”

“Why would you need to stop that?” he asked.

“Because it hurts more when they’re not as invested as I am. When I learn things that I was too blind to see.” I shook my head. I did not want to talk about this. I nodded toward his backpack. “Got a pen in there somewhere?”

“And we have a verse and a chorus,” I said with a big smile. We had moved to the ground and were using the bench like a table.

Brooks looked happy, too, a smile on his face, his eyes lit up. “I haven’t had that productive of a writing session in forever.”

“We make a good team.” I leaned back on my palms, even though the ground was dirty. For the first time since we’d started, I became aware of our surroundings. The rain was mostly gone and water dripped off the edge of the roof. I moved my head one way and then the other, stretching my neck. I opened my mouth to ask how much time we had left when his watch alarm went off.

He pushed a button on the side, silencing it. “I need to go.”

“Are you going to turn into a pumpkin?” I whispered.

“Does that make you the princess?”

“I’m sorry. Did you want to be the princess? You do have great hair.”

He laughed, then stood, brushed off the back of his shorts and his hands, and reached out for my hand. He pulled me to standing, but just as I was about to turn back the way I’d come, he cursed and yanked me against him, whirling us the opposite way. He practically carried me to the other side of the pegboard, where he pressed my back against the large sheet of plywood and his body against mine.

I looked up at him, wide-eyed, but he was staring over my shoulder, listening, I realized. Had he seen someone? Had someone seen us? I concentrated on the sounds around us, but there was just his heart, pounding against me, and his breath, close to my ear. He smelled like coconut shampoo and something sharp, like soap or deodorant.

“My backpack is out there,” he mouthed. “Stay here.”

I nodded, a little dizzy.

He took a step away from me and I stumbled, not realizing I must’ve been using him for support. I straightened up and listened hard as he rounded the corner.

“Brooks? You scared me. What are you doing?” I didn’t recognize the voice.

“Hi, Desiree.”

Who was Desiree? I hadn’t met a Desiree. A drop of water from the edge of the roof dripped onto my forehead. I didn’t dare move out of the way or wipe at it.

“Just making sure the storm didn’t knock down any branches on the course,” Brooks said. “You brought towels?”

“Yeah, Janelle wants towels at each station to wipe things down.”

“She’s not closing them for the day?”

“The storm passed. It’s supposed to be clear now.”

“Right.”

Another drop of water hit my cheek this time.

There was a scuffing of feet like she was walking away; then she said, “Kai was looking for you earlier. Did he ever find you?”

“Uh, yeah, band stuff.”

“Cool, see you later.”

“Bye.”

A few minutes passed and I stayed in my hiding spot, more water collecting on my hair and face. I could hear someone moving around out there and I was pretty sure it was Brooks, but I didn’t want to risk it.

“That was close,” he finally said as he appeared at my side.

“Is everything okay? Did she see me? Who’s Desiree?” I asked.

He smirked. “Take a breath.” He wiped at some water on my cheek with the back of his hand. My breath caught. “Want a towel?” he asked.

“No.” I used my sleeve to mop up more water. “Who was that?”

“You know D, right?” he asked. “Works at the front desk.”

I took several deep breaths. “That was D? Tell me she didn’t see me.”

“She didn’t see you. It’s fine. But we should go.” He held out his hand and nodded toward the forest. “Time to rescue my stranded guest.”

The next day brought perfect weather. Brooks had led me all the way to the edge of the guest cabins the day before. We’d stayed

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