Page 71
Story: Wandering Wild
I offer a wry grin. “I’m still baby-stepping it here. All I know is that I want to see more of the world. I suppose that’s where I’ll start.”
“So you’ll travel?” Zander asks, reaching across to pull more fruit from the vine.
“I think so.” Nerves bubble in me at the idea, along with an excited thrill. “That was always the plan for this year before everything... happened. I doubt Ember will come now since she’s busy chasing her acting dreams, but as much as I’ll miss her, I’m not going to let that stop me. No more excuses or delays.” A thought hits me and I frown. “My passport is expired, though. I’ll have to get that renewed, or I won’t be going anywhere.”
“Well, look at that: you now have step one on your baby-stepping to-do list,” Zander says, smiling. “That means you’re one step closer to getting where you’re going.” He cocks his head to the side. “Where is that, by the way?”
“Where is what?” I ask, wiping sticky fingers on my hiking pants.
“Where you’re going,” Zander clarifies. “First stop is...?”
My mouth opens but no words come out, because I suddenly realize I don’t have an answer. All I know is the longing in my heart to explore the beauty this world has to offer, but nothingspecific. Worry hits me, since how am I supposed to figure out my next steps if I can’t even settle on a starting destination?
Seeing my deer-in-the-headlights uncertainty, Zander senses my growing panic and says in a calming voice, “Do me a favor and close your eyes.”
My brow furrows. “What?”
“Just trust me.”
At his open, encouraging look, I follow his request.
“Good,” he says. “Now, I want you to imagine you’re at an airport. You’ve checked yourself in. You’re walking onto the plane. You’re flying through the sky. Hours pass, and you’re ready to climb the walls if they don’t let you out soon. But then, finally, the pilot says you’re beginning your descent, so you peek out the window and see?—”
“Iceland.”
The word leaves my lips without thought, and my eyes shoot back open.
“Iceland?” Zander asks, with gentle curiosity.
I’m unsure why I feel so shy as I answer, “Vatnajökull National Park. It’s about five hours from Reykjavík. I used to have photos on my walls of the blue ice caves—they’re like something straight out of a fairytale, and I promised myself I’d visit them in person one day. And the northern lights... I used to dream of seeing those as well. And of course Diamond Beach and the Blue Lagoon and the Strokkur Geyser and all the waterfalls and—” I cut myself off, before finishing, sheepishly, “Iceland is where I want to go first.”
“It sounds perfect,” Zander says softly.
“Have you ever been?”
He shakes his head. “No. We nearly filmed some of the secondLost Heirsmovie there, but they decided on New Zealand instead.”
“Also on my list,” I murmur, remembering just how large the world is, and wondering how I’ll be able to see it all. Money, at least, isn’t a concern, since I’ve been saving ever since I was old enough to get a job, and I also have my mother’s life insurance payout. I haven’t wanted to touch it, hating that it even existed, but I know down to my bones that this is something she would want for me.
“What about you?” I ask Zander. “If Ollie re-asked what you’re looking forward to, what would you say? What areyournext steps?”
Zander twists the now-fruitless vine between his fingers. “It all depends on whether the studio lets me stay on forTitan’s War. If this trip does what it was supposed to and the limited footage we got helps boost my public image enough that I get to keep my role, then it shouldn’t be long before shooting begins, so that’ll be what’s next for me. On the other hand, if the producers aren’t satisfied and they decide to terminate my contract...” He shrugs, his gaze on his fiddling fingers. “I’m not sure what I’ll do, to be honest.”
“You won’t have to find out,” I say with as much confidence as I can. When he looks at me with doubt, even a little fear, I lower my voice and assure him, “Truly, Zander. If you could make me, your harshest critic, come to—to stop hating you”—I can’t believe the word that nearly slipped through my lips, and I quickly cover my stumble by continuing—“then you’ll have no trouble making the world fall back in love with you. We had entire days of footage before we lost the cameras; that’ll be more than enough for them to see who you really are.” My mouth curls upward as I add, “And don’t forget, you caught a fish with your bare hands, while shirtless. Emphasis on theshirtless. That alone will do the job of making sure no one cares about any perceived indiscretions of yours. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about.”
Zander’s lips twitch. “Are you objectifying me, Charlie Hart?”
I stand up from the log to stretch, tossing over my shoulder, “Have youseenyour abs?”
A choked laugh leaves him and he rises to join me, both of us preparing to set out again now that we’ve recharged.
I’m not sure what comes over me, but before we can resume our journey, I turn serious and say, “You’re gorgeous, Zander—that’s no secret. But I hope you know it goes beyond your looks. What’s inside you here”—I press a finger to his chest, right over his heart—“is more beautiful than what’s here”—I move my hand up to his cheek, offering the gentlest of touches before lowering my arm again—“and if I can see that after just a few short days, then anyone who can’t is an idiot.” I hold his gaze as I finish, with quiet solemnity, “And they don’t deserve you.”
My breath hitches at the look on his face. There’s such raw emotion in his expression: gratitude, hope, and a storm of feelings that make me want to throw myself into his arms and never let go. It takes everything in me to resist the impulse, my self-control hanging by a thread.
“Thank you,” he finally says, his voice raspy. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a long time. Maybe ever.”
I try to come up with something light and witty to offer in return, if only to bring some levity to the moment, but my mind blanks on anything other than to reply with a heartfelt, “You’re welcome.”
“So you’ll travel?” Zander asks, reaching across to pull more fruit from the vine.
“I think so.” Nerves bubble in me at the idea, along with an excited thrill. “That was always the plan for this year before everything... happened. I doubt Ember will come now since she’s busy chasing her acting dreams, but as much as I’ll miss her, I’m not going to let that stop me. No more excuses or delays.” A thought hits me and I frown. “My passport is expired, though. I’ll have to get that renewed, or I won’t be going anywhere.”
“Well, look at that: you now have step one on your baby-stepping to-do list,” Zander says, smiling. “That means you’re one step closer to getting where you’re going.” He cocks his head to the side. “Where is that, by the way?”
“Where is what?” I ask, wiping sticky fingers on my hiking pants.
“Where you’re going,” Zander clarifies. “First stop is...?”
My mouth opens but no words come out, because I suddenly realize I don’t have an answer. All I know is the longing in my heart to explore the beauty this world has to offer, but nothingspecific. Worry hits me, since how am I supposed to figure out my next steps if I can’t even settle on a starting destination?
Seeing my deer-in-the-headlights uncertainty, Zander senses my growing panic and says in a calming voice, “Do me a favor and close your eyes.”
My brow furrows. “What?”
“Just trust me.”
At his open, encouraging look, I follow his request.
“Good,” he says. “Now, I want you to imagine you’re at an airport. You’ve checked yourself in. You’re walking onto the plane. You’re flying through the sky. Hours pass, and you’re ready to climb the walls if they don’t let you out soon. But then, finally, the pilot says you’re beginning your descent, so you peek out the window and see?—”
“Iceland.”
The word leaves my lips without thought, and my eyes shoot back open.
“Iceland?” Zander asks, with gentle curiosity.
I’m unsure why I feel so shy as I answer, “Vatnajökull National Park. It’s about five hours from Reykjavík. I used to have photos on my walls of the blue ice caves—they’re like something straight out of a fairytale, and I promised myself I’d visit them in person one day. And the northern lights... I used to dream of seeing those as well. And of course Diamond Beach and the Blue Lagoon and the Strokkur Geyser and all the waterfalls and—” I cut myself off, before finishing, sheepishly, “Iceland is where I want to go first.”
“It sounds perfect,” Zander says softly.
“Have you ever been?”
He shakes his head. “No. We nearly filmed some of the secondLost Heirsmovie there, but they decided on New Zealand instead.”
“Also on my list,” I murmur, remembering just how large the world is, and wondering how I’ll be able to see it all. Money, at least, isn’t a concern, since I’ve been saving ever since I was old enough to get a job, and I also have my mother’s life insurance payout. I haven’t wanted to touch it, hating that it even existed, but I know down to my bones that this is something she would want for me.
“What about you?” I ask Zander. “If Ollie re-asked what you’re looking forward to, what would you say? What areyournext steps?”
Zander twists the now-fruitless vine between his fingers. “It all depends on whether the studio lets me stay on forTitan’s War. If this trip does what it was supposed to and the limited footage we got helps boost my public image enough that I get to keep my role, then it shouldn’t be long before shooting begins, so that’ll be what’s next for me. On the other hand, if the producers aren’t satisfied and they decide to terminate my contract...” He shrugs, his gaze on his fiddling fingers. “I’m not sure what I’ll do, to be honest.”
“You won’t have to find out,” I say with as much confidence as I can. When he looks at me with doubt, even a little fear, I lower my voice and assure him, “Truly, Zander. If you could make me, your harshest critic, come to—to stop hating you”—I can’t believe the word that nearly slipped through my lips, and I quickly cover my stumble by continuing—“then you’ll have no trouble making the world fall back in love with you. We had entire days of footage before we lost the cameras; that’ll be more than enough for them to see who you really are.” My mouth curls upward as I add, “And don’t forget, you caught a fish with your bare hands, while shirtless. Emphasis on theshirtless. That alone will do the job of making sure no one cares about any perceived indiscretions of yours. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about.”
Zander’s lips twitch. “Are you objectifying me, Charlie Hart?”
I stand up from the log to stretch, tossing over my shoulder, “Have youseenyour abs?”
A choked laugh leaves him and he rises to join me, both of us preparing to set out again now that we’ve recharged.
I’m not sure what comes over me, but before we can resume our journey, I turn serious and say, “You’re gorgeous, Zander—that’s no secret. But I hope you know it goes beyond your looks. What’s inside you here”—I press a finger to his chest, right over his heart—“is more beautiful than what’s here”—I move my hand up to his cheek, offering the gentlest of touches before lowering my arm again—“and if I can see that after just a few short days, then anyone who can’t is an idiot.” I hold his gaze as I finish, with quiet solemnity, “And they don’t deserve you.”
My breath hitches at the look on his face. There’s such raw emotion in his expression: gratitude, hope, and a storm of feelings that make me want to throw myself into his arms and never let go. It takes everything in me to resist the impulse, my self-control hanging by a thread.
“Thank you,” he finally says, his voice raspy. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a long time. Maybe ever.”
I try to come up with something light and witty to offer in return, if only to bring some levity to the moment, but my mind blanks on anything other than to reply with a heartfelt, “You’re welcome.”
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