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She breaks the kiss and pulls back just enough so I can see her exuberant smile. In that moment all I can think is that she has a mouth made for smiling, and the unbrushed hair and tired eyes and swipe of dirt across her cheek only accentuates how radiant it is.

“I want to eat cotton candy with you on the last day of the Fall Festival,” she mumbles against my lips. “I want a date. And I want a shower. Not in that order.”

“Okay,” I say. “Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want? Even you?” Her smile is impish.

“What about Tayla?” Maybe I shouldn’t be asking about another contender for Kiara’s heart when I’ve finally, finally gotten the girl, but the part of me that’s insecure about where I stand among the Fellowship of the Fling demands concrete answers about what’s going to happen once we’re home.

She raises an eyebrow, lips twitching as if she’s amused. “Nova, I’m kissing you .”

Flustered, I say, “I know that, but—”

She presses a finger to my lips, smiles a smile of pure sunshine, and replaces it with her mouth.

It’s a soft peck at first, delicate as the wings of a dragonfly, then it gradually builds to firm, demanding pressure that pulses down my legs and makes my toes curl.

I can feel my heartbeat in my fingertips.

I raise my hands to her face, cradle it gently, tilting her so I’m the one taking over.

I match the hungry want of her mouth, the desire that’s been building since our moment in the tent but, in truth, a lot longer than that.

When we part for air, she slides her hands, which were loosely holding my waist, up to my neck. She noses against the shivery place where my neck and ear meet until I giggle, and then she laughs and says, “You give me butterfly flutters, Nova Marwood.”

“Rabble,” I say nonsensically.

“What?”

“When the butterflies are disorderly. Chaotic. Flapping about like a herd of cats.” I clear my throat at the befuddled then bemused way she simply looks back at me. “Never mind. It’s something I heard once.”

She goes in for another peck, like she can’t help herself. “Uh-huh.”

“Guys!” Evan hollers. “Stop kissing and come eat! This is the second time I’ve tried to get your attention!”

“Sorry, Evan. We didn’t even hear you,” says Kiara as we head back to the others hand in hand.

“That was obvious,” they say dryly.

Tayla doesn’t make eye contact with me as we eat. She doesn’t look like she enjoys her wrap, but then I don’t think I’ve ever seen her truly happy about anything on this quest, really.

It’s not just me she’s avoiding. Or Kiara. She seems off. Quiet and withdrawn, willing to let me lead. She didn’t offer any input about which direction to take or when to stop, and she hasn’t tried to monopolize Kiara’s attention even once.

Is her ego bruised because she thinks she has lost to me?

No, that’s not the Tayla I know and have grown to grudgingly like.

That Tayla would never give up. She wouldn’t hunch her shoulders like that or hide her feelings.

Even when she downplayed her fear and unease, she still had plenty of attitude about it.

It can’t be about me and Kiara kissing. Even Tayla wouldn’t be that petty.

“Let’s move on,” Radhika declares the second Tayla takes her last swallow.

We’ve found our rhythm. We eat, clean up, shoulder our packs, and keep moving. We talk to remind each other we’re still here, but even the quiet moments don’t feel lonely. If a moment comes that I wonder if I am, I reach for Kiara’s hand instead.

More leaves have fallen since we first came this way.

The brittle clumps softly crunch under our boots.

The sounds of small animals skittering and scurrying around us is oddly comforting, even though Evan declares squirrels freak them out, and the haunting hoot of an owl sounds like it comes from just a stone’s throw away.

The sky is a dark pewter, smudged with graphite, with the brilliance of a glowing moon just behind the treetops turning the forest to silver glass.

We hear the gurgle of running water before we see it. “Nova, you were right! We’re close to our old campsite!” says Radhika. “Tayla, do you think you can find that stream again?”

Tayla shakes her head, but Keiffer’s already bounding off in the direction of the gentle trickles with his water bottle out.

We’re all running low, so I don’t blame his excitement.

I’m on my last few drops, too, and if I don’t hydrate soon, I risk the onset of a headache.

We all traipse after him, eager to quench our thirst and refill our bottles.

Tayla suddenly picks up speed to match Keiffer’s stride. “ Wait ,” she says.

She throws out her arm to stop him like a parent trying to protect their child in the front passenger seat. There’s a sudden urgency in her tone, but her voice is a croak, and I suddenly realize I don’t remember the last time she spoke.

We all come to a halt, casting around worried gazes, but can’t find a reason for her agitation.

“It’s uneven here,” Tayla says, kicking at the ground to illustrate. Dirt and twigs and stones fall away, crumbling down an incline that, now that I see it, is steeper than I’d thought. As the pebbles patter down, she takes a sharp inhale that the others miss, but I don’t.

“Could have been a nasty fall. Thanks for the warning,” says Keiffer, shooting her a grateful smile.

She doesn’t return it. She doesn’t even see it.

She’s too focused on the stream below, at the displaced stones and soil.

“Let’s just keep going,” Tayla says, and nobody objects, even though Keiffer gives a dismayed little look at his empty water bottle.

Kiara wordlessly hands him what’s left of hers, and together they turn back. With a shrug, Radhika follows. I watch Tayla, and even Evan hesitates, waiting for us. “Coming?” they ask.

It takes Tayla a beat to respond. “Yeah,” she says, finally tearing her gaze away.

“What are you even looking at?” I ask, brow furrowed. I keep an eye on the ground as I approach, mindful of the erosion, but she gets in my way.

“Nothing. Just thinking how long it’s been since I was here.

It feels like an age.” Tayla walks forward until I’m forced to take a step back.

“We’re holding everyone up, Nova,” she says, the words so final that Evan and I both understand it’s the end of the matter. She’s not going to discuss it further.

Tayla links her arms through mine and Evan’s, dragging us away.

“No distractions,” she repeats. “Let’s just get Kiara out of here first and worry about the rest later.”

The rest? Evan and I exchange confused glances. What else is there to worry about?