Page 92 of Almost Ravaged

We’re simply not meant to be.

I swipe at my eyes, dashing the tears before they can fall, and hold Tytus closer. I bury my face in his T-shirt, catching the view of the setting sun in my periphery as I mourn the loss of what we’ll never share.

It’s masochistic to keep holding out, hoping that next time we try will be different. The light’s snuffed out, and that’s how it needs to stay.

The kindest thing I can do for us both is let go of this feeble, noxious hope once and for all.

Silently, against his chest, I mouthI love you.

Then I drop my arms, take a few steps back, and offer him a watery smile.

“I’m going to go check on Cam,” I say out loud.

I don’t give him the chance to reply before I turn my back and solemnly walk away.

One Month Later

Chapter thirty-three

Sawyer

An effervescent glee erupts inside me as Will and Fung show me the mini time-lapse video they have been working on for the last hour.

“This lookssogood. Well done.” I hand Will his phone, then move on to check in with the next group, a spring in my step.

It took a few weeks for the students to refine the strategic marketing plan for Evercrisp Orchard. I’m loath to admit it, but Mercer was right. I could lead these horses to water, but they’d have to figure out the drinking part on their own. It’s been a test of patience and tenacity not to just take over and tell everyone exactly what I want them to do.

Mercer is satisfied with the class’s plan, so I’m trying my best to be okay with it, too. His comment about the orchard’s need for marketing in the future is the keystone I cling to when I get frustrated.

Today, it hit me that I haven’t been giving them enough credit.

Divided into six groups, they’ve created a ton of content during our two site visits. And the photos, video, and B-roll they’ve captured to bolster the orchard’s online presence are incredible.

Now that all the strategies are set, they’ll create and schedule content to share on social media through the end of the season. In two weeks, we’ll shift gears and focus on planning a massive late-night event.

The idea is similar to Cam’s original suggestion. By getting hundreds of students to the orchard for this event, we can create a memorable experience and tap into the organic marketing potential. The guests will create content that’ll boost attendance, inspire repeat visits, and help the orchard end the season strong.

The details of the event and promotion are up to the students. Mercer’s made it clear that I have to step back and let them handle it.

It’s probably for the best. I don’t know what’s popular with other people my age anyway. Based on the last discussion I sat in on, the winning event idea involves some sort of zombie apocalypse flag football mashup. Weird, but if it works, I’ll be thrilled.

“Morning, Edna,” I call out as I enter through the bakery entrance.

“Sawyer,” she calls back from where she’s rolling out crust behind the counter. “Back again already?”

I was here with the class on Monday. Then Cam and Kai talked me into coming back for pie on Tuesday evening.

“Back again. Noah needs to put me on the payroll.”

Chuckling, she wipes her hands on her apron and waves me over. “Here. Try this.”

She holds out a plate with a small slice of pie centered in the middle. It looks and smells like apple, with a syrupy substance drizzled on top and what I think might be a sprinkle of sea salt. It looks almost too pretty to eat, and it smells heavenly.

“I’m okay.” I lift both hands. “I need to check on the other group of students.” My stomach chooses that moment to call me out, growling in protest, and I flush with embarrassment.

“Nonsense. You can spare five minutes.” She lifts the plate higher. “This is a new recipe. Something I came up with specifically for all the youth who have been stopping by.”

I fight back my smile. By “all the youth,” she really means Cam, Kai, and me. But hopefully, by semester’s end, we won’t be the only young people making frequent visits to Evercrisp Orchard.