The Senior Trip

Chapter 28

ASHER

She's back on her feet quickly. There is something about her that reminds me of light and the way it bounces from place to place. Before I can stop myself, I run the pad of my thumb across her cheek where she's managed to swipe a smudge of dirt.

"I thought that made me look fierce," she says, laughing as she finishes the job.

"Oops," I answer. Her hair is stuck to her face, and the sun has colored her cheeks, but she's still beautiful in a way that makes it hard for me to turn around and walk away. "We need to get moving."

The sun is finally starting to dip lower in the sky, and I'm praying it takes some of the heat with it. "Which way do you want to go?" I ask as I look down the road in both directions. Not one clue which way is back to town. It's a gamble. If we choose the wrong direction, we could be walking further into the open land.

"Umm.." she contemplates, shading her eyes and glancing around as if the answer will appear to her. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. "I have no idea," she admits, rocking on her feet.

"It's OK. We have a fifty-fifty chance. That's not terrible odds."

"Right," she agrees. "Let's both close our eyes and point on the count of three. Then we can open them and see what we came up with. If we pick opposite directions, we'll do the best two out of three."

I chuckle at her idea. I guess it's as good as any and will eliminate us blaming each other later if we take the wrong path. At least we both would have chosen it. "Deal. One..." I close my eyes and decide I'm going to point in the direction that will keep the sun at our backs. "Two, three."

Our fingers point in the same direction, and the relief I feel is immense and utterly unwarranted because choosing the same direction in no way means we've chosen the right one. I guess I'm just glad I have her to walk with.

"That settles it." She turns with purpose, and we both head into the great unknown...again.

"This is the longest I've ever gone without my phone," I say when the monotony of walking makes me wish I could retrieve it from my pocket and swipe on some social media account to see if anyone has noticed we're missing.

"Me too," she says. "No chance of posting some epic status."

"No filtered picture," I agree.

"No cheesy tags," she adds.

"It's all bullshit anyway," I say softly. I think of the last picture I'd posted with Jess. I can still see her smile as her arms are wrapped around me. We'd just gone for our favorite shakes, and I'd snapped the shot outside at our favorite table. I can remember the details of the picture well because she' made me retake it five times before finally agreeing to let me post it.

"You mean your online life isn't the real you?" she asks mockingly.

"Not even close,' I answer honestly.

"Ok Mr. Perfect and Popular. Tell me all about the filters." She rubs her hands together as if she's about to get the juiciest gossip she's ever heard.

"The filters are just the beginning." I run my hand over my head.

"Right," she says knowingly. "I want the metaphorical filters too." She smiles up at me. "I want the bullshit you posted and then the real story."

"OK," I agree, "but you too."

"I don't post fake things," she says.

"Come on," I say unconvinced.

She kicks a clump of dirt, and we watch it roll to the side of the road. "I don't post anything fake, but I hold back posts."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Sometimes I don't feel good enough. It's like whatever I'm doing isn't cool enough or perfect enough to show everyone. I don't want to fake it, so I don't post at all."

"So if I checked out your Instagram...." I start.

"Three pictures."

"Only three?" I ask, turning and walking backward so I can look at her as we talk.

She nods her head.

"OK," I say, "then tell me about all the almost posts an I'll share my bullshit posts."

She considers it for a second, but when her lips curve up, I know she'll agree.

"Deal."