Page 47 of Falling for the Enemy

Ava knocked on the edge of the doorway. Privacy had been blown away when the storm shredded our canvas door. It was amazing how beautiful she could look out in the middle of a muddy patch of land. No makeup, her black hair pulled up into a loose knot at the back of her head and a wrinkled T-shirt and she was absolutely breathtaking. How on earth was I going to act neutral around her at work now that I knew what it felt like to kiss her?

“Coffee’s on and Harold left ten minutes ago, so you’ll need to hurry and eat some breakfast, Norm. The river is at about three feet, so it should be easy to cross. Professor Sinclair and I will make sure you get across safely and then we’ll follow on foot.” She turned and left without even looking my direction.

Norman hobbled to the mess tent to eat. I finished packing. Breakfast, especially the breakfast waiting in the mess tent, didn’t sound the least bit appetizing. I still had a stash of trail mix in my pack for emergencies. I’d use it when I ran out of energy on the hike. All I wanted now was to be back on that plane home.

Twenty minutes later, Ava and I were working hard to convince Norm to walk into the river. The incidents with the crocodiles and the collapsing bridge had made him understandably worried.

“I checked out the area up and down the riverbank,” I assured him. “Not a crocodile in sight.”

Harold sat on his bike on the other side waiting patiently for us to coax Norm into the water. Ava and I had left our backpacks behind for now, so we could concentrate on getting him to the other side. He dropped one arm around each of our shoulders, and we crossed arms behind him to create a sort of netting. It was amazing how easily we could pretend the other person didn’t exist as we worked together, like two robots, to get Norm across. The crossing itself wasn’t as easy as anticipated. There was still a good current and lots of holes and debris under the muddy surface, but the three of us made it across. Getting him up the bank took some teamwork, too, but we managed it. Minutes later, Norm was waving at us from the back of the dirt bike.

We crossed back, picked up our packs and waded to the other side without a word. Ava looked back at the muddy camp for a second and then started walking. She moved ahead a few paces,and I purposely slowed my own pace to stay behind. It was awkward enough walking the same path. The last thing I wanted was to walk next to her, and I was sure she felt the same way.

The storm had ravaged an otherwise decent walking trail. We found ourselves having to navigate around fallen trees and leafy clutter. Ava, always the scientist, would stop occasionally to check out some fungi or watch insects going about their daily chores. I’d stop and allow her to observe without hovering over her or walking past. It was all rather ridiculous and gave me an unpleasant preview of what it was going to be like working in the same building. Then I remembered something she’d said.

“Where will you be in a year?” Hearing my voice after the long stretch of silence felt jarring.

Ava looked up from a patch of mushrooms she’d been studying. “What?”

“You said you had no idea where you’d be in a year. I just wondered where you were going. Sounds like you don’t plan to stay at the university long.”

She stood up. “I don’t know. I try not to plan my life too far ahead. I suppose that would please you—if I left the university.” We were face-to-face now for the first time since our volatile conversation on the riverbank.

“I never said that, Ava. You’re the one who mentioned it. Not me.”

“I suppose it would make both our lives easier if I moved on. Just this hike out in the middle of a vast stretch of land is making us both uncomfortable. It would be far worse in the confines of the science building.”

“If you think that’s best,” I said and continued walking. I wanted nothing more than to be out of the hot, humid jungle and somewhere where the food didn’t taste like bland paste.

Ava hurried to catch up to me. “Of course, I might stay, too.”

“Fine. Then we’ll just continue with our plan for invisible neutrality.”

“That is a phrase you just made up,” she said.

“Yes, but it fits. You and I will be invisible to each other.”

“Great, works for me. I’m certainly not going to plan my future around your wishes. So, I might just stay.”

“Yep. Won’t matter to me, because you’ll be invisible.” The conversation was getting more juvenile and crazier by the second, but I didn’t know how to turn it around.

Ava apparently had the same thought. “Let’s halt this conversation before one of us says ‘I know you are, but what am I?’”

I chuckled. “That really was one of the more brilliant things to come out of childhood.”

Ava smiled. She tried to hide it, but hers wasn’t a smile you could miss. We stayed next to each other and continued along the trail. Some of it was muddy and some was streaked with crevices made by the rain, ankle twisting indentations that were now hard as cement. Harold and Mia’s tire tracks crisscrossed the paths, too.

The moment of levity had broken the quiet tension between us. “I have to say I’m feeling a little letdown that I didn’t get to ride on the back of a dirt bike back to the station,” I said.

Ava nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. I once rode across the Kalahari Desert on the back of a dirt bike. Way easier than traveling on the back of a camel.”

“Have you ever thought of writing a memoir about your life?” I asked.

She squinted an eye my direction. “Are you saying I’m old enough to have a memoir?”

“Jeez, Lo, I just meant?—”

“I’m kidding you. See, I’m not the only one who jumps immediately into defense.”

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