Page 29 of Hearts Overboard

Post-Cruise Tour: Denali National Park

I froze. My fists clenched so tightly I was worried I’d make my palms bleed. Wait. Could bears, like sharks, smell blood? I forced my hands to relax so I didn’t draw its attention.

I was supposed to grab something, but I couldn’t think. Tanner reached over to ease the bear spray from the outer pouch of my backpack.

“Hey, Bear,” he yelled. “I’m sure you’re a nice bear. I know this is your home. But it would be great if you could move along now.”

The bear stopped and looked at him.

What kind of idiot advice was that sign giving, telling us to make noise? What if the bear hadn’t noticed us until Tanner started yelling? It was like advertising Dessert Buffet on a cruise ship to people who hadn’t known it existed. The feeding frenzy was going to descend, leaving our bones picked cleaner than a cake pan.

Tanner waved his arms. I should join him. Logically, if the sign said to do it, it made sense. But I was stuck in place.

“Don’t make me spray you, Bear!” Tanner brandished the bear spray. “I’ll do it. And I’ll tell you my dad’s bear jokes, which will be even worse.”

The bear was enormous, brown fur brushed with lighter tan on the hump behind its head. Dark eyes studied us from above its narrow nose. The brush hid its paws, and I was glad for that because I didn’t need to know if they were the size of my face.

“What color socks are you wearing?” Tanner called. “What? None? You prefer bear feet?”

It studied Tanner, unimpressed with the bad joke, before lumbering away. Leaves and branches rustled, and then all was silent.

I continued to stare after it. What if it was tricking us? Pretending to leave and setting a trap on the trail to lie in wait? Were bears masters of the ambush? They seemed like they might be sneaky.

Air was frozen in my throat, and my heart pulsed in every extremity.

“Wow. Did you see it? It was so cool.” Tanner’s voice sounded distant. “Oh. Hey. Are you okay?”

I shook my head. Tried to. My throat was too dry to form words. And my legs felt shaky, like they might collapse at any moment. The world tilted.

“Whoa, there, S’more. Hey. Savannah. Breathe.” Tanner’s hands came to my cheeks, forcing me to look away from the woods and meet his eyes. “Take a deep breath. Slow. In through your nose. Like this.”

His nostrils flared as he inhaled slowly.

I gulped. Sucked in a little air. Swayed. I couldn’t. There was no oxygen. I was floating in space and I was going to suffocate.

Tanner breathed again, exaggerating the motion. I concentrated on the gray of his eyes. Tried to match his slow pace of inhaling.

He shifted his grip to my shoulders, which were hunched around my ears, and his thumbs kneaded the muscles.

When he inhaled a third time, I managed to mimic him. Air went in, got stuck.

“Out slow.” Tanner blew air out through his mouth, and it wisped against my face.

I did the same.

After two more breaths, the world stopped spinning. My body still trembled.

Tanner slid his arm around me. “Do you need to sit?”

His arm remained around me for several steps as I stumbled down the trail.

He guided me to a rock, kept a hand between my shoulder blades, and continued his measured breathing for me to copy. I tried to keep pace with it.

Feeling was returning, prickles coursing through my body. I had to fight to keep breathing normally, instead of wheezing like I’d broken my personal mile best. Every sound from the forest made me twitch.

“Easy, S’more. It’s gone. You’re okay.”

I didn’t know how long we sat there, the cold damp seeping into my backside, the fresh air in my lungs slowly bringing the world into focus again. Tanner’s hand anchored me, and he kept repeating similar words reminding me he was there and I was alive.

Finally, I nodded. “I’m good.”

He continued rubbing my back for a few more minutes before helping me to my feet. He smoothed hair out of my face, left his palm against my cheek.

I met his eyes, though I wanted to look away. My face was hot. He’d stayed calm and done exactly what you were supposed to, while I’d frozen up and been utterly useless.

Tanner kept hold of my hand and sang loudly the whole way back, our school fight song and rock songs and snatches of karaoke favorites with made-up lyrics, to scare off any wildlife. I wanted to run—anything to rejoin civilization as fast as possible—except the advice about not acting like prey looped through my head and helped me keep my pace normal so a bear didn’t decide my speed made me look tasty.

When we spotted the visitors center, I gave in, raced to the paved area, and collapsed onto a bench.

Tanner crouched in front of me and took my hands. “We made it. You’re okay.”

I didn’t feel okay. I felt like screaming or fainting or maybe vomiting. Or all three.

My mind remained on the trail, every detail branded into my memory. I couldn’t do this anymore.

“I’m done,” I croaked.

“What?”

“The new things. No more. I’m finished. With all of it.”

A wrinkle formed between his eyebrows. “I know that was scary, S’more. But the advice worked. We made it. And what about those views? Wasn’t it worth it?”

I refused to dwell on the moments before the bear, on the ridge, on the awe and the wind and the peace and the kiss.

I shook my head. “Nope. I can see nice views on travel shows. Or from the window of a train.”

His eyebrows knit farther together. “What about whitewater rafting this afternoon?”

“You can go by yourself. I accomplished my goal. Now, I’m going to sit in a lodge with hot chocolate and listen to a podcast where there’s Wi-Fi and I’m the top of the food chain. I don’t know what I was thinking this week.”

“You said you enjoyed almost all of it, were glad you came.”

Feeling sick, I pulled my hands free of his and crossed my arms over my stomach. “It worked. That’s what matters. I can go back to my safe diet and my paved roads and my science and stop trying to be someone I’m not.”

A shadow crossed his face. “What do you mean, it worked ?”

His tone was dark and my chest clenched, but I forged on.

“Caleb texted yesterday. He said he was wrong and he missesme.”

Tanner’s jaw twitched. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

My stomach squirmed. I swallowed hard and looked away. “Thank you for your help. We succeeded. You coached me, I found your major. Now you can go be an awesome teacher and stop forcing yourself to make sure I’m having fun.”

“Oh, I see.” Now his voice was hard. His back had stiffened, and his eyes were cold.

“See what?”

“It was a deal, right? What we had on this trip. Help each other, nothing more?” His voice held a challenge.

It had been, to start. Agreeing now after everything we’d shared and done, after realizing my feelings, felt like a lie. Despite that, I said, “Right.”

He was still squatting next to me but leaned closer. His expression was stony. “I think you’re wrong, about trying to be someone you’re not. Didn’t you feel alive this week, even if it scared you? You had fun, branched out, challenged yourself, and saw how strong you could be. What life could be like if you stood up to your fears.”

Uncertainty stirred inside me. He had a point. But those truths faded, eclipsed by the bear and the paralyzing fear that had gripped me.

“And,” Tanner went on, “are you content to be with someone who you have to prove yourself to? Who didn’t think you were enough and couldn’t see how great you are?”

“I proved myself to you.”

“I didn’t care if you did any of it, S’more. I mean, I did, because I wanted you to get the most out of your trip, and I had fun spending time with you. But I wasn’t the one calling you boring or saying you needed to branch out. I didn’t say your worth as a person depended on you trying to be fun or different or anything other than who you are.”

I tried to swallow, but my throat was burning.

“The only thing that changed between us is, we got to know each other. I didn’t change my opinion of you because you did or didn’t do anything. I changed it because I saw who you are and I listened.” His eyes gentled. “And it was good, wasn’t it?”

My insides were a jagged mess, pieces breaking off my heart like chunks of a glacier crashing into the sea. I couldn’t respond, even if I’d known what to say. Not around the ice gripping my throat.

Tanner huffed and rocked on his heels. “You’ll take him back, just like that, after he embarrassed you and was a huge jerk? After he was willing to so easily throw away what you had? He only regretted it when he saw you were fine without him.”

“You’re saying he doesn’t really want me?”

“You were with him for nine months and never thought about saying I love you,” he said. “Consider why, and whether that’s the kind of relationship you want. Just getting by because it’s safe and familiar when there could be so much more out there.”

Now he sounded like Jordan. “Are you talking about hiking or about a relationship?”

He didn’t answer.

“And what else is out there, Tanner?”

He held my gaze, intense, focused. “I think you know.”

My heart was a deafening roar in my ears. Our faces were close, and we were probably drawing attention.

My eyes went to his mouth. I swayed toward him, blinked, leaned away.

He shook his head and his lip curled in what was not a smile. He stood to tower above me. “Forget it. If you want to be with Caveman, if he makes you happy and supports you and understands you, if he makes you the best version of yourself, if you enjoy being with him, then do it.”

“Fine. I will.” I stood, too, angled away from him.

“Fine. I hope your senior year is exactly like your junior one. I hope you’re happy going back to your box, like this week meant nothing. But you weren’t the only one paying attention this trip. I figured out your career, too.”

“I know what I want to do.”

“Really? You want to stand in front of a classroom all day and talk to kids who don’t want to learn? You loved the tram and the ship and the train bridges. You like building stuff. You love the stars and math and physics. Why aren’t you going to study aerospace engineering? It is literally perfect for you.”

My mouth opened. Closed. A storm raged in my chest.

“Don’t say no just because it might be hard,” he said. “Do your research thing. Look at what you’d get to study. Do Mr. Lin’s program and see if you like it. Or forget this week, let your fear control you, and live in your safe bubble for next year, for college, forever.”

“I like my bubble.” My voice sounded defensive.

“Then I’m glad I was able to help, to be a sub until you got your starter back. Enjoy your safe life.”

We were standing close now, our chests heaving. His eyes were dark. I was shaking again.

“I will,” I said, and marched away.

I was breathing hard as I stomped to the waiting area for the shuttle that would take us to the hotel. Tanner followed in silence. I crossed my arms and waited, several feet away from him, my gut churning. His words echoed and bounced around with Jordan’s, making a wreck of my mind.

Caleb was the safe choice. We would lead the Math Bowl team and work at the Science Center. Return to our routines, except I’d have to branch out in where we ate. After all, he had called me boring, and only wanted me back now that he saw I wasn’t.

Why was I okay with that?

No. Stop. Tanner was being him, difficult and challenging, that was all.

I peeked at him. He no longer looked fierce and angry, just sad and a little lost.

My chest tightened. I knew he feared real conflict. But we’d been fighting for years, and he’d never been affected like today. Because he hadn’t viewed those as real fights? Or because now I was someone he cared about? Because he’d gotten real for once, and I’d run away?

He wasn’t my boyfriend. I needed to focus on Caleb and getting my life back on track.

No more adventures, no more bears, and no more Tanner Woods.