Page 58 of My Return to the Walter Boys
“Whoa, careful.” Cole steadied me, then shrugged off his bag. “Here, take this. We’re almost there, but I think it’ll be safer for both of us if I give you a piggyback ride.”
By some miracle, I had yet to sprain my ankle. I wasn’t willing to push my luck, so I accepted his offer without a word. As I slipped the bag over my shoulders, Cole crouched down so I could more easilyclimb on. Once my arms were wrapped around his neck, he hitched me up into a comfortable position before continuing onward.
It took another five minutes to reach our destination, but eventually the trees thinned, and we emerged into a grassy clearing. I slid off his back and looked around. Other than a table-size stump—the last remnant of what had once been a colossal tree—there wasn’t anything worth noting to justify hiking through the forest so late at night.
“This is where we went camping as kids,” Cole said. He took his bag from me, then pulled out two aluminum mugs, a thermos, and a blanket.
“Um…that’s not what we’re doing, right?” As thick as it looked, there was no way the single blanket he brought would keep us warm through the night.
He laughed as he spread it out on the ground. “Do you see a tent anywhere?”
His question didn’t reassure me. The Walters seemed like the type of people who were outdoorsy enough to forgo one depending on the weather.
“Well, no, but—”
“We’ll only be here for an hour or so. It’s too cold out to stay longer than that.” Cole flopped down and patted the empty space next to him. “Come sit. I brought hot cocoa.”
I wasn’t immune to bribery, especially the chocolatey kind, so I accepted a steaming cup and listened as Cole explained why he dragged me all the way out here. Since I didn’t get to see the MilkyWay that night on the school rooftop, he wanted to take me stargazing at a time when the sky was visible. I tilted my head back and gasped. Thousands of stars sparkled above us, like some cosmic artist had thrown an ocean of glitter against the black canvas of the universe. As much as I hated to admit it, Cole’s gesture was both thoughtful and romantic.
“I’ve never seen so many stars before,” I confessed. Not long after moving to Colorado, I realized just how impossible it was to see anything in New York due to light pollution, but this was something else entirely. Out here, they were so densely packed, there seemed to be more light than sky, and I wondered how it was possible that our journey through the trees had been so poorly lit.
“That’s because this is the best spot on the ranch for it,” Cole told me. “If the weather was nice enough during our camping trips, we would set up our sleeping bags in the grass and sleep under the stars.”
Ha!I called it.
“Do you have a favorite constellation?” I asked, still mesmerized by the shining expanse above us.
“Sure.” He pointed straight up. “See that bright star right there? Now look to the left, there’s another. The next one is a little farther away, but do you see how they’re starting to form a hump? That’s Urassus Major—
“Cole!” I exclaimed, nearly spitting out a sip of hot chocolate.
He snickered. “What? I said we slept under the stars, not that we studied them. I know jack all about astrology.”
“You mean astronomy.”
“That’s what I said.”
“No,” I corrected him. “You said astrology.” Finally tearing my gaze away from the sky, I looked at Cole, my eyes roving across his face as I tried to determine if he was joking. The easy smile he wore made it difficult to tell, so I added, “They’re two different things. One is a science; the other is divination.”
His face lit up in understanding. “Oh, like horoscopes? I’m a Scorpio born in Gatorade or something like that,” he said with a comical amount of confidence. “It means I’m kind, mysterious, and protective.”
I rolled my eyes. “Urassus Major is full of shit.”
Cole made a sound of objection. “Is not!”
“You were born in May,” I said, enunciating each word slowly. “That makes you a Gemini.” Not to mention the bullshit traits he’d made up about himself. Kind and mysterious, my ass.
He shrugged. “I’ll stick with Scorpio. It sounds cooler.”
“You can’t just pick whatever sign you like best!” I said in protest, very nearly slopping cocoa over the brim of my mug. I set it aside so I wouldn’t spill in frustration. “That’s not how it works.”
“Says who?”
“I don’t know,” I answered wearily. “History? Everyone? It’s common knowledge.”
His dimple made an appearance, and it was the only warning I received before he lunged forward and wrapped an arm around mytorso. I tried to squirm away from his fingers, but he held my body against his own and used his free hand to torture me. “I knew you’d be ticklish.” He sounded delighted.
“Cut it out!” I gasped, tears welling up in my eyes.
