Bloom by Delilah S. Dawson

Author:Delilah S. Dawson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags:  
Publisher: Titan

10

The rest of Monday is a blur. By dinner, Ro is well enough to eat lightly buttered toast.

Tuesday is endless, and she feels back to normal. She goes to campus, powers through her lecture, and spends a few hours in the library working on her book, keeping an eye out for Jessie all along. By dinner, she can eat regular food again. She’s lost two pounds.

Wednesday is the day of the hike, and Ro feels like she did when she was six and still thought she might wake up on her birthday to find a pony tied to a tree in the yard, back when she was small enough to still believe in magic.

She’s so buoyant in class that one of her students, a lackadaisical athlete who’s happy with Cs, asks her if she’s high.

“I’m high on life, Brayden,” she tells him.

After class, she sits in her office for an interminable hour, knowing full well that even though no one has ever shown up for office hours unless they’ve just flunked a test, if she tries to leave early, someone will immediately appear. The moment her phone clock says 3:30, she’s locking her door and practically skipping out to the car. Ash left her a voicemail on Tuesday during class, telling her the name and address of the park, along with directions to get there. It’s utterly adorable how Ash doesn’t think like a modern person with a pocket computer but like a grandmother who tells someone to turn right at the big tree. Ro uses her map app anyway.

It’s a pretty drive to the trails, and Ash is there already, sitting on the tailgate of the old blue truck Ro saw in her yard. She’s wearing aesthetically ragged cutoffs and her usual brown leather boots with a white camisole, her hair in French-braid pigtails. Ro is wearing almost the same thing, but her shorts are a bit longer and her camisole is moss green.

“Need bug spray?” Ash asks as Ro gets out of her car bearing gifts: a clean platter and Tupperware, and the tea towel from that first loaf of bread.

“Yes, thanks.”

They trade. Ash takes back her things and hands Ro—of course—a spray bottle of clear liquid that is clearly homemade. She sprays it on her legs and arms, and it’s as much a perfume as a repellent.

“Smells wonderful,” she says as she hands it back.

Ash smiles. “It works, too.” She puts the bottle back in her truck. “The trail is about three miles. Is that good for you?”

Ro nods. “Perfect.”

Of course, she already knows how long the trail is because she rigorously researches everything and hates being caught unaware or without a plan. She also really likes that Ash asked her if it was okay; she dated a guy in undergrad who invited her for a hike that ended up being seven grueling miles of scrambling over slick rocks and down rooty hills. That relationship did not last long. She couldn’t keep up with him on foot; he couldn’t keep up with her mind.

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