Now there’s silence. It’s been silent for so long I look at the phone to see if the call was dropped. It wasn’t. Seconds are still ticking away on the screen.
“Dad?” I nudge. “Are you there?”
“Yes,” he says. “I am. I don’t know where to start or what to say. That was a lot to take in.”
Yes, it was, and now if he could only imagine me living through it, maybe he’ll find some compassion.
“Are you okay?” he asks. “After talking with your mother, are you okay?”
A relieved breath escapes my mouth. I guess I’m not the only one who’s been learning things this summer. A year ago, my father would have lost his mind if I merely mentioned her, and now Dad appears to be letting the tyrant side of himself go.
“I survived,” I say. “It was weird and emotional and I’m a little scared of where we go from here, but it was good.”
“I’m here.” Concern ravages his tone. “If things get rough with her or if you need someone to intervene on your behalf—I’m here.”
And that’s all I’ve ever wanted from him. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me—protecting you is my job.”
I glance over to Noah, who’s watching the stars above. Maybe it was Dad’s job and, because he’s human, there are a few times he messed up, but somehow that job seems to belong to Noah now more than it does to my father. It’s also my job to protect myself as I’m hardly a damsel in distress. I’ve proven I’m capable of fighting some of my battles on my own, but it’s nice to know I don’t always have to.
“When you get home,” Dad starts, and now the disapproval is back in his voice, “I think we should sit down and discuss this opportunity in Colorado. I’d also like some further clarification on this situation with Noah.”
I wince. The urge is to lash out and let him know that I don’t need his advice, but for the millionth time I remind myself I’m no longer a child, which means I should act like an adult. Children yell. Adults talk. At least that’s the theory.
“We can talk, but just to let you know, my decision is made. I respect you, Dad, but this is my life, and these are my choices...not yours.”
A weighted sigh and a creak from the chair he’s sitting in. “You were easier when you were five.”
My lips immediately lift up. “Really?”
“No, but with the passing of time, it sometimes feels that way. At least then I could pick you up when you stomped your foot. I’d probably throw my back out if I tried that now.”
I laugh, and Noah must catch the sound as he turns to look at me. He grins at my expression then turns back around.
“I love you,” I tell my father.
He clears his throat. Words like that from me are still hard for him to process. “Be safe on the way home.”
“I will.”
“Don’t speed.”
“I won’t.”
“Tell Noah I’m still having a conversation with him when he returns. That’s nonnegotiable.”
I sigh. “Still doesn’t change how I feel about him.”
“I’m aware. And Echo?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you, too. I should go. Alexander’s waking up. Call me when you get to your next stop.”
“I will.” And then my father is gone. I stare at the phone, thinking about how much things can change in a year.
I lean forward and knock on the windshield. It’s time for Noah and me to move forward.
Noah
I open the trunk of Echo’s car, and she appears beside me, reaching in for a blanket. “We don’t need the tent.”
It’s late, past midnight. Echo changed out of her blue dress and into a cotton skirt and tank top. The type of top that teases me with peeks of her black bra strap. The moment we got in her car, Echo told me to return to the campsite where we jumped off a cliff. Happy as I could fucking be that Echo’s going to be chasing her dream plus be beside me for the next year, I didn’t ask one question. I turned onto the freeway and drove.
“It’s late, baby. I have a feeling neither one of us is going to want to put it up later.”
Echo grabs another blanket and two pillows. “We’re sleeping in the open tonight.”
She has that damned sexy, under-the-eyelash hooded look as she says it, and any room I had in my pants disappears. I twine my fingers with hers and pull Echo close. “You don’t have to do this. Jumping from a cliff—that’s hardcore risk-taking.”
Confronting her mother. Standing up to Hunter. That’s even harder core.
In the moonlight, her eyes shine bright. “I want to look at stars tonight.”
Then stars it is. I release Echo long enough to take the blankets and a pillow from her, tuck them under my arm then reclaim her hand. We leave the parking lot and enter the campsite, heading straight for the path.
The campground is packed with campers. Fires crackle. Children laugh and shout. The scent of hot dogs fills the air. As we walk hand in hand, Echo squeezes my fingers. “This is my boyfriend.”
I turn my head, wondering who the hell she’s talking to then see her making eye contact with a middle-aged couple that has three kids around a campfire.
“He’s got two younger brothers,” she continues, “and he adores them.”
The couple laughs, but doesn’t say anything. As I open my mouth to ask what the hell that was about, she starts again with two guys fixing fishing rods. “My boyfriend just spent hours at an art gallery because he supports me.”
They also laugh because what the fuck else is there to say to that? “What are you doing?”
“Letting you know that you’re the man I want to walk down the street with.”
Her words stop me short, and a tug on my hand urges me to continue walking. “Of all the things I say, that’s what you grab on to?”
“I grabbed on to it all, but that’s the one I knew I could easily fix.”
The moon lights our path. Each time we’ve stayed in a park like this, we’ve played the game where she hides and I hunt, but there’s a silent agreement that the game is over. Neither of us will hide anymore.
When the trees give way to the field we played in days before, Echo changes our direction, heading toward its center. The grass hits our legs, and when we’re far enough in for no prying eyes to see, Echo draws the blanket from me and spreads it out onto the ground.