Page 94 of Jaded

“Are you kidding?” Syd takes over, green eyes wide with excitement. “This is why social media exists. Anything Ice Out–Dingoes mashup is already viral.”

She’s got me there.

“Maybe the Dingoes could do some masked practices or something,” Syd muses, eyes going slightly out of focus. “For like, Instagram pictures. Or reels . . . Get people trying to match them to Ice Out numbers.”

“That would be sweet!” Avery agrees, giving Syd’s already fast-rolling train a hearty push. “Syd, you could for sure make some amazing posts with that kind of shit.”

“Right. And since Dad definitely doesn’t go to the Ice Out.” Syd tosses a pointed glance behind her. “Maybe he could take videos of some of the best guys, and people can vote on it . . .”

Man these kids arerolling. I can barely keep up.

“And we should record the tryout! And live stream it! And—”

“Okay, well. I love all of this.” I slip between them, throw an arm over each teen’s shoulder. “Syd, you kind of have a talent for this.”

“No way.”

“Yes way. Which is why . . .” I pause for dramatic effect. “I’m bringing you on as the Ice Out–Dingoes social media specialist.”

“Wait . . .” Syd’s voice goes high with excitement. “What? You mean . . .”

“If you'd be interested, of course,” I clarify, like Syd isn't grinning with every tooth in her head. “Though, I think you might be essential, at this point.”

“I’m . . . shit. Hell yeah, I'm interested!”

“Good.” I start walking again, taking them both with me before I release them from my embrace. “Now, however, we’re gonna do some walking so that Olli’s Big Fat Brain can do some serious pondering. Capiche?”

We walk.

Avery and Syd take the lead, side by side, and Nat and I fall in together, a comfortable, companionable distance apart. It’s quiet, beautiful, peaceful—

“Yo, Google Maps doesn’t know where we are.” Avery stomps through the thin layer of crusty snow on the trail ahead of me. He sounds a little awestruck as he taps at the screen of his phone.

“I know where we are,” I assure him. “All trails have landmarks, right, that help you know where you are. Or what direction you’re going. Or how far you still have to go. And this trail has freakingmarkers, so we’re fine.”

“Don’t you see the blue paint splotches, Av?” Syd asks.

“Okay fine, but . . .” Avery shoves his phone back into his pocket, angles a wary gaze towards me. “How are we somewhere the internet doesn’t know about?”

Behind him, Nat bites his lip in laughter.

At least the Taylors and Avery seem unbothered by the cold, even if none of them are particularly at ease in the woods.

“That’s the whole point,” I chuckle, swiftly leading the excursion down the right prong of a fork before anybody—who shall remain nameless—can wander off the wrong way. “You escape into nature for a while, leave the woes of the modern world behind.”

“Sounds boring.”

“Are you bored?”

“I mean, we’re just . . . walking.”

I stop walking. Turn. Level my gaze on him. He’s tall for a teen, but not as tall as me, so he has to tilt his head to meet my gaze.

“Close your eyes,” I say, and surprisingly, he closes them. Beside him, Sydney does the same.

Avery shifts from right foot to left, to let me know that he’s not quite sold on whatever this is, but at least he’s listening.

“Breathe in deep,” I say, and I breathe in, deep, in demonstration. “And just . . . notice. Pines, right? Pretty sharp smell. And snow too, that burning cold sensation inside your nostrils. But if you breathe a little deeper”—another inhale—“you can still kinda smell the dirt, just pretty faint under all the snow, and oh . . . I think a deer was here. You get that little hint of musk?”

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