Page 33 of Homesick

“Is what okay?”

“Us hanging out like this? I know it doesn’t technically break your rule because we’re at the farm, but still, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

I’m not sure how I should feel about us hanging out. If I’m being honest, it’s nice to just sit here and talk to him. It feels more like talking to an old friend than talking to an ex. This is one of the first times I haven’t felt a need to run away.

“I was hoping you’d leave by now, but since you’re sharing the wine, I guess you can stay.”

He smiles at me, and I smile back as a spark goes off in my chest. “So, Fisher, I think it’s time to settle something. You were the one that thought it was a good idea to steal poor old Mrs. Cooke’s garden gnomes, right?

CHAPTER 12

I glance at my phone and it’s a little after midnight. Blake and I have spent the past couple of hours passing stories from our childhood back and forth.

We trade turns toeing the line between where our friendship ended, and where our relationship began. I would argue that the friendship didn’t really end, it just became more. But I wasn’t about to bring that topic up after such a long period of peace between us.

I’m enjoying myself and based on the way he’s relaxed against the unconformable wooden post all while sporting his goofy yet charming smile, I can tell he is, too. We had finished off our shared bottle of wine an hour ago, but there is an invisible string keeping us tethered to this moment. It’s almost as if we’re so caught up in the nostalgia of our youth, we don’t want to return to the shit show that is our adult life.

“Do you remember when we used to play hide-and-go-seek in the hay loft every summer? That was always my favorite tradition when we were kids.”

“You may remember it being fun, but I remember it slightly different,” I say as I lazily lean back on my hands. My eyes flicker over to Mocha when he stirs in his sleep. Every once in a while, his eyes flutter open, but he’s back to sleep seconds later. I wish I slept that good, I think to myself.

“Oh yeah and how is that?” Blake prods while playfully nudging my foot with his own. With my buzz from the wine, I had failed to notice he had gotten closer throughout the night. He was still a safe distance . . . for now.

“Well, let’s see here. I remember you and Chris would always make me seek first and then go off and hide somewhere outside the boundaries so I couldn’t find you. And then when I was just about to give up, I would always find one of you. Well, it was usually you, now that I think about it.”

“I always felt bad so I would give myself up. Chris would get so mad, too.”

“Yeah, we were going through that fun phase where he hated me and all I wanted to do was hang out with you guys. I wanted to be one of the boys,” I say with a smile. Blake was the only other kid on our road, so it was usually the three of us. That was perfectly fine until we got older, and Chris could tell I had a crush on Blake. I leave that part out, though.

“Yeah, he was such a jerk to you back then. I can’t even remember the last time we played.”

A lightbulb goes off in my head fueled by delusion and wine. “Well, let’s play a game tonight. The hay loft is full, and I wouldn’t mind stretching my legs.”

“Oh, come on, Campbell. That’s the wine talking.”

“I think it would be fun, though! Let’s do it for old times’ sake.”

I see the gears in his mind turning, probably trying to think about all the reasons this is a bad idea. I should be doing the same, but I’m starting to see the old Blake in front of me and I’m not ready to let go.

“Think of it this way. You can’t remember the last time we played, so we can create a new memory. A recent one that’s not as angsty,” I reason, attempting to convince him to do something that I’m not even sure is a good idea.

“Fine.”

“Perfect! Oh and you get to seek first, loser.”

I jump up and practically skip to the barn where all the hay is kept. I notice Blake has a little pep in his step as we take in the sweet and slightly dusty smell. Per our agreement as kids, Blake begins to count to one hundred and I take off.

The rule is I have to hide somewhere in the hay barn, so I quickly search every nook and cranny for the perfect place to cram my body. The set-up is usually the same, but somehow different every year, which is what makes it the perfect place for hide-and-go-seek.

My heart starts to race when I hear Blake’s countdown get closer and closer to one hundred. I try to contain the laugher threatening to give away my position and then I realize why I was usually the first to be found when we were kids.

I quietly crawl up onto some hay bales stacked high and find a small opening that I can wedge myself into. I curse when I realize how much easier this was when we were kids. No wonder adults don’t do this more often.

My heart nearly stops when Blake finally yells out, “ready or not, here I come!” I hold my hand over my mouth to try and quiet the heavy breathing from all the adrenaline coursing through my body right now.

I hear his footsteps crunch as he gets closer and closer. It’s crazy to think that this night started out with me panicking over Mocha and now I’m crushed between two hay bales, all giddy over feeling like a kid again.

Soon I hear Blake’s footsteps get quieter and quieter, which leads me to believe he’s on the other side of the barn. I feel another rush of adrenaline as I contemplate whether to stay where I’m at or hide somewhere he’s already looked. I choose the latter and stealthily maneuver off the ledge I’m positioned on. I feel myself starting to sweat and I curse internally for being ten years older and severely out of shape.

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