Page 66 of Guarded Love

I will not squirm. I will not squirm. I will not squirm.

"I've divided you into smaller teams to make the work more manageable," Professor Wallace explains. "Each team will have specific tasks assigned by the farm staff."

"Team One will handle irrigation work," Professor Wallace reads off of her phone. "Madison Hollins, Tyler Chesterfield, Emma Weiss..."

I close my eyes behind my sunglasses, willing her to put me in any group without?—

"Team Two will be working in the herb garden. Willow Sanchez, Blaise Dalton..."

My stomach drops, then flips, then ties itself into a knot. And here I was thinking I could have a Blaise free day.

I don't move. Don't flinch. Don't even blink.

"...and David Miller," Professor Wallace finishes.

Three people. Just three of us in our little herb garden group. Nowhere to hide. Nowhere to run.

It doesn't matter, I tell myself. It's just a few hours of volunteer work. I can ignore him. I've been ignoring him for years. This is fine.

It's not fine. Nothing about this is fine.

Professor Wallace continues going through all of the teams, and when she’s done, she asks, "Is everyone clear on their assignments? Our bus leaves in thirty minutes. Please be in the lobby by 8:45."

I nod at Professor Wallace's question. My face stays blank while my internal monologue goes nuclear. Great. Fantastic. Perfect. Just what this trip needed. Blaise Dalton and I playing gardeners and spending more together.

I drain my orange juice like it's a shot of tequila, all the while wishing it had the same numbing effect.

Madison touches my arm. "Herb garden, huh? That sounds nice and peaceful."

"Yeah. Peaceful. Super excited about...herbs."

I shift to the edge of my chair, angling my body away from the table and away from him. If I can just make it through breakfast without further interaction, maybe I can find a way to switch groups. Or fake an illness. Or knock myself out by hitting a glass bottle over my head.

"I'm going to get more coffee," I announce to no one in particular, pushing my chair back.

I take my time refilling my cup and from this position, I can study the room while pretending to be deeply fascinated by the coffee condiments. From where I am, I can see Blaise still sitting at the table, now talking with Tyler about something. I want to know what they’re talking about, but also I don’t. I swear my life has become more about me being a walking contradiction than anything else. But at a certain point, I need to walk back to the table until it’s time for us to leave.

I take a sip of my coffee and then begin my journey back. By the time I return to the table, Madison and Tyler are chatting about some mathematician I've never heard of, while Blaise is on his phone. I slide into my seat, keeping my eyes on my coffee.

"Almost time to go," Madison says, checking her phone. "Should we head to the lobby?"

"Yeah," I say as I stand up and grab the small bag I decided to take. "Let's get this over with."

I’m excited about volunteering, it’s justwhoI’m doing it with that has me dreading every second. As I take another sip of my coffee all I can think is that at least I can say that none of this will be boring.

20

WILLOW

The shuttle drops us off at the entrance to the farm and I immediately regret every choice that led me to this point in my life. Because why are we doing this so early in the morning?

Professor Wallace claps her hands and launches into a speech about the farm’s mission, using words like “community engagement” and “global citizenship” while the rest of us silently bargain with the universe for cloud cover.

Blaise stands two people to my left, perfectly stone-faced. He keeps his arms crossed and his eyes forward, like there’s nothing else going on besides Professor Wallace talking. If I weren’t so busy mentally trying to figure out if there’s a way I can convince our shuttle bus driver to take me back to the hotel, I might actually appreciate the view. Instead, I focus on the way the sweat is already darkening his collar, which is both a comfort and a distraction.

“Willow! You’re with Blaise and David in the herb garden,” Professor Wallace announces, as if I didn’t hear her make the announcement when we were back at the hotel.

My eyes land on David because there’s no way I can look at Blaise. It’s very obvious that he was class president in high school and thinks that translates to real-world charisma. He’s got sandy hair, the kind of blue eyes you get called dreamy for, and a nice smile. I already hate him.

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