Total pages in book: 198
Estimated words: 186242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 931(@200wpm)___ 745(@250wpm)___ 621(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 931(@200wpm)___ 745(@250wpm)___ 621(@300wpm)
But none of that compared to the simple feeling and power of the falls. It wasn’t extraordinarily tall, but it dropped so much water, it was pretty amazing to witness. It left me in awe, really. Only Mother Nature could make you feel so small. The trail and falls were pretty packed, and I’d taken pictures for a family and two couples. I’d even sent my uncle some pictures when I’d gotten cell service reception. He’d texted me back a couple of thumbs-up, and my aunt had called and asked me if I was crazy for crossing the river over a big log that had been draped across it.
“Owwie, oww, oww,” I hissed to myself as I got out of the car and went around the other side. I grabbed my little backpack and gallon of water and shut the door with my hip, feeling the heat on my skin some more and groaning.
Like an idiot, I instantly forgot and slipped the strap of my backpack over my shoulder and, just as quickly, slid that son of a bitch back off with a cry that made me sound like I was getting murdered.
“Are you okay?” a voice that sounded only slightly familiar called out.
I turned around to find Amos sitting in a different chair than the one I’d last seen him in on the deck, holding his game console in one hand and squinting hard while his other one hovered just above his eyes to block out the sun so he could get a good look at my lobster reenactment.
“Hi. I’m all right, just gave myself a second-degree sunburn, I think. No big deal,” I joked, groaning when my shoulder gave another throb of pain from contact with the strap.
I almost didn’t hear him say, “We got aloe vera,” quietly.
I just about dropped my bag.
“You can get some if you want.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. Setting my bag down on the ground after grabbing my Swiss Army knife, I walked toward the house. Up the stairs, I headed over to where he was. In a ratty T-shirt and even rattier sweatpants with a couple holes in them, he gestured to the side, and I could see a medium-sized aloe vera plant in a plain orange pot next to a cactus and something that had once been alive but hadn’t been in a while.
“Thank you for offering,” I told him as I kneeled beside the pot and picked out a nice, thick leaf. I glanced at him and caught him watching me. He looked away. “Did you get in trouble over the garage apartment?” I asked.
There was a pause, then, “Yeah,” he replied hesitantly, still quietly.
“Big trouble?”
Another pause before, “I got grounded.” One more beat of silence, then, “You went hiking?”
I glanced up at him and smiled. “I did. I went to Piedra Falls. I got roasted.” The whole thing had felt a whole lot farther than a half mile. I’d started bitching about five minutes in, at how thirsty I was and how much I regretted refilling an old bottle I’d found on the floor of my car so that I wouldn’t have to carry the entire gallon. I’d had a harder time breathing than I would have expected, but it was practice. So I wasn’t going to beat myself up too much about how I’d been panting and sweating while going through a canopy of trees lining the trail.
But I decided I was going to have to start doing some other kind of harder cardio because, holy shit, I’d die doing one of the ten-mile trips I wanted to take—if I stayed and could.
After the shit show that yesterday had been at work, I wasn’t totally sure if things were going to work out . . . but I still hoped they did.
No one really missed me in Florida. They loved me, but they had gotten used to me living away for so long that I knew it had to be weird that I’d come back. My aunt and uncle had gotten used to living home alone, even though they’d accepted me with open arms and nurtured me back to a healed heart. Or at least a mostly healed one. My cousins all had their own lives too.
And my friends cared about me, but they had three thousand things going on as well.
“How’d you get burned?” he asked after another moment of silence.
“There was a couple there who had gotten light-headed right at the base, and I hung out with them until they felt good enough to hike back to their car,” I explained.
The boy didn’t say anything, but I could see his fingertips tapping along the border of his Nintendo as I finished cutting through the leaf. “Sorry.” He was focused on his console. “About Dad getting pissed. I should’ve told him, but I know he would’ve said no.”