Page 41 of The Cabin

My face says it all.

“Oh, I forgot your goal when you came up here was to be your same, boring self.”

“I’m not going to let you reverse psychology me.” Mmmm. I think I am, actually. I was boring as fuck. I was hiding who I was to be more palatable and that made me constantly second guess myself. I’m still trying to dig down deep enough to rescue who I was before everything happened, but I know for sure that I want the person I’m becoming to be adventurous and brave and lively. If I can ride a mechanical bull, I can probably do this, right? I’m over sitting on the sidelines and hoping one of the players will notice me.

Look at me with the sports reference! So relatable.

“I’ll let you earn your hundred dollars back. You swing, you win.”

Nowthat’smotivation.

Before I can psych myself out I grab the rope, pull it back as far as I can, and jump.

Splash!

I hear, “Hell yeah!” when I pop back up.

“When I tell you I was point two seconds away from falling off too soon, I mean it. I need some muscles. You’ve got muscles, how’d you get them?”

I like how open his face is right now. He’s enjoying himself. He’s playing. How often do adults get to play?

“You’re going to hate this answer.”

“It’s going to be so douchey, I know it.”

He winces. “Most of them are just from building stuff.”

“Oh, come on! You’re basically claiming you are just naturally muscley.”

“Have you seen me lift any weights? Did you find any in the house? Am I waking up at five in the morning to do crunches?” He’s floating on his back and trying to spin himself in a circle.

“This is very unbecoming I hope you know. No one likes a bragger.”

He swims closer and splashes water at me. "I’m not bragging! You asked!”

I splash him back. “I wasn’t expecting you to respond like a Hallmark movie character.”

“Like you don’t have anything that comes naturally to you!”

I consider it. What would I say comes naturally to me? “Mmmm. Not that I can think of.”

“You have an incredible knack for annoying the shit out of me.” He’s close enough that I can reach out and dunk him under. He has to cough a bunch of times to clear his lungs when he comes back up. “See what I mean?”

Lost in thoughts, I take a minute to be quiet.

“Dancing.” The light is fading around us. “Not in a ballerina kind of way. But I love to dance. For fun, at a bar or a wedding or a school dance. I hadn’t danced in years before the night we went to that bar. It’s when I feel the most free. My emotions make so much more sense when I’m jumping up and down, screaming a great lyric at the top of my lungs. Takes a little alcohol these days. But it didn’t used to.”

“You were. Free, I mean. Everyone noticed. You could see on their faces how inspired they were by your ability to just let go.” I don’t know how to respond because it’s such a genuine, thoughtful thing to say and that leans dangerously close to vulnerable, for which I am still very much a rookie. (Another sports reference?? I’m on fire!)

(Actually, it’s called deflecting, but, whatever.)

“We should probably get going. I don’t want to be walking in the dark.”

“I thought that was your plan all along, remember? Ditch me in the woods in the dark?”

He walks ahead of me to get out and dry off and I can’t believe I forgot how nice his butt is. Right there. On full display. “There are plenty of horrible things I can do in the light, don’t worry. I won’t let you down.” And his thighs in those briefs? I mean…

He turns around and the look on his face is so freaking smug. “Stop checking me out, Sol.”

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