“You need to take more risks.” Evan pointed her toes and tapped me on the knee with them. “You’re young. You should be wild. You should stop worrying so much.”
I flicked her toe. “Last time I was wild, I worried a hundred times more than usual. Oh, and I almost ruined everything I had with Jake. And I nearly died of pneumonia. I’m not Marianne. I’m Elinor.”
“Are you talking Austen?” Evan wiggled her toes, shiny with green and silver polish that perfectly matched her outfit. “I always think of you as Lizzie Bennett.”
“I think I’m a little more of a romantic than Lizzie. Or maybe I can’t get over the fact that she had a billion sisters. And I sort of hated Darcy.” I clamped my hands over my eyes in shame after my confession as Evan tottered on the window ledge.
“Say that again, girl, because I know I must have misheard! You did not just take the name of Darcy in vain.” She clutched her celery green tank with silver silk-screened birches to her heart. “You have depths of insanity I’ve never imagined, Brenna Blixen.”
“Edward Ferrars is my main Austen man, gloved hands down.” I crooked an eyebrow up high at Evan. “So you’re waiting for your Darcy? Because you were kind of with…well, I was going to say Willoughby, but was Willoughby even that bad?”
Evan snapped and unsnapped her cigarette case. “Rabin? He was just a mess. If there’s a character in any book like him, I hope it’s a clearance-rack piece of crap no one ever bothers to read.” She pulled a piece of her long, dark hair over her shoulder and flattened it long and smooth between her fingers, over and over as she gazed into the descending dark. “Maybe I am looking for Darcy. Maybe I’m in the wrong book?”
“How about Rochester?” I pulled at a thread on the bottom of my shorts.
Evan tapped her teeth with her silver nail. “Too old. And the wife? The crazy Creole? I liked her too damn much. Actually, I loved her. That woman needs a book all her own.”
“How about Lancelot?”
“Too tragic.” She dragged her fingers along the smooth wood of the window frame.
“The Beast?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I liked him better as a beast though. He’s a man now, and I don’t think he can compare.”
“Wolverine?”
She rubbed her chin. “Tempting. But I don’t know if I can be with a guy whose claws might rip through me during a moment of passion.”
“I’m all out of romantic options.” I sighed and was about to hop down from the edge when I heard the low rumble of an engine from the woods behind my house. “Do you hear that?” I asked, my heart in a canter.
Evan’s smile was an Easter basket of sweet secrets. “Maybe.”
“Evan?” I braced my hands on the window and leaned out, searching the jagged horizon for a clue, but the sound had stopped.
“Change into jeans. And a sweatshirt. It’s so strange how cold it gets at night here. In Savannah, you could sleep all night on the roof without a blanket if you wanted. These mountains are so damn cold.” She was purposefully dragging the conversation in a different direction and ignoring my glare. I paced around the room, checked the windows again, and leaned out, listening for any clue, but the night was suddenly devoid of mechanical noises. “Hurry up and get changed,” Evan scolded.
“What’s going on?” I hopped out of my shorts and into jeans, then pulled a sweatshirt on. I was in the middle of lacing up my sneakers when the bushes outside my window moved, and I gave Evan a quick, startled look, wondering if this was all part of the plan.
“Bren?” Jake’s voice came from below. I leaned over the sill and the hook of his wide smile caught me and pulled me tight. “You ready?” He was breathing heavily like he’d just finished running.
I turned back and stared at Evan, who was rubbing the nail polish off her toenails with languid circular swipes of the cotton balls. “He’s coming by to take you on a ride. On his death machine.”
I gave him a quick smile and backed into the room in a fury. “I can’t go on that with him,” I hissed, crossing the room in a few angry strides so I could argue with Evan quietly enough that Jake wouldn’t hear.
The stench of the nail polish remover stung my nostrils. She barely looked up from her task. “I love you. I really do. But you need to stop being so bossy, especially if you don’t know all the facts. Jake is not stupid, Brenna. Trust him. Go ride with him, and trust him to do things right. That’s what he wants from you, you know.” Her blue eyes glowed summer-sky bright. “Be a little wild with your wild boy. Go!”
“What will you do?” I asked, suddenly guilty to leave my newly single friend alone in my room while I went out with my boyfriend.
“I will paint my toes and watch romantic movies and eat all your chocolate. And feel all smug and whatnot that I helped plan this wild romance. Now go!” She pushed me with one half-polished hand. “Live a little, Elinor.”
I went back to the window and peered over at Jake. He lifted his arms up. He had snuck in and out of my room more than a few times, and I’d watched him do it, but I’d never jumped out myself. I looked back at Evan, who gave me an encouraging smile, then climbed up on the sill, sat on the edge, and jumped into Jake’s waiting arms.
The night was crisp and chilly enough that I was glad I had on a hoodie. Jake’s arms folded around me completely and he pressed me against the house, his mouth quick and hard on mine. The thrill of his kisses, the night air, and the unexpected adventure made my skin burn with anticipation.
“Did you and Evan plan this together?” I asked, kissing his neck.
“Yep. By the way, I like your friend. She’s smart, like you. But she doesn’t constantly worry that I’m gonna break my ass or do something stupid. She actually kinda liked my stupid idea.” The moon was huge and shiny gray in the sky, the exact same color as his eyes.
“So what’s your plan?” I pushed my chilled hands up and under his sweatshirt, right against the hot skin of his ribs. He tensed and pulled back.
“Holy hell, how do your hands get so cold so quick?” He yanked them from under his shirt and rubbed them between his hands with quick, short strokes. “We are going on a ride.”
“A ride?” I felt the little clutch of worry hit right at the back of my throat. “Where?”
“Nowhere dangerous.” Jake put his hands on either side of my face and just looked at me. “Sometimes I think it’s hard for you to get what I do. Or why I do what I do. And Evan pointed out that it might be slightly easier for you to get it all if I showed you. So I’m gonna show you.” He grabbed my hand and then we ran, over the cool, ticklish grass of my lawn, into the taller, catching brush at the edge of the woods that bordered my yard, then into the dark forest.
I couldn’t remember if I’d ever run through the woods at night before. The leaves from fall were still thick on the ground, slick in a thousand collected layers. Reedy branches swatted against me high and low, and gnarled, knotty roots bumped out in unexpectedly treacherous places, custom-made to twist ankles and trip unsuspecting runners.
I ran half-blind, my free arm waving at the snapping, snaring branches that tore past me. I couldn’t get lost in the night because I was nervous to get caught, nervous to get hurt, nervous to end my time as a runner, nervous to find Jake’s death trap of a bike and fall off, and even more nervous to find it and love the ride.
But suddenly, I stopped worrying for a second. I found my stride and cleared my mind, my hand tightened around Jake’s, and I felt like I could see everything under the brilliant light of the moon. I was free. We were free. This was one night, one moment where nothing else mattered, no worries could eclipse the pure, giddy, awesome, joyful adrenaline that pushed through me and made my feet unexpectedly sure.