August 1969

Chapter 7

My mind can't keep up with my fluctuating emotions.

One minute anxiety laces through my veins with a cement brick pressing against my chest. Next, I'm nuzzling my cheek into Bobby's chest, loving how his strong arms hold onto me.

Can your brain get whiplash?

When I was younger, I often fantasized about Bobby returning my affection. I'd lay in my bed, dreaming that he would call me his girlfriend and we would live happily ever after until the end of time. However, here I am, basking in the afterglow of a panic attack and freaking out whenever my mind flashes images of us together.

He wants to be together, right?

With each step, more questions pop into my mind. Fighting the urge to run, I fill my lungs to max capacity. My tense muscles relax when Bobby's familiar, musky scent tickles my nose.

Rose and Elaine sit in front of our campsite chatting while Mike lays peacefully with his arm draped over his face. Their conversation halts as Bobby walks past them without a word of acknowledgment. When my eyes connect with my sister's, she pushes to get up from her seated position, but Rose grabs her arm and shakes her head.

Elaine's eyes stay on me, and warmth fans across my face as Bobby enters the small wooded area behind our tent.

Once shielded from the late summer sun, the temperature drops considerably under the evergreen trees. When I look up at Bobby, his jaw is clenched tight, and his eyes scan our surroundings.

He looks stressed.

We haven't said a word to each other since he picked me up. The silence between us is unsettling. I raise my hand and cup his cheek. "I think I can walk now."

Bobby's mouth opens and closes like a goldfish. He finally finds the words he was looking for and says, "But you're hurt."

The corners of my mouth twitch upwards in a smile that doesn't quite reach my eyes. "I'm okay."

Bobby lowers me to the ground as if I am made of glass and will shatter the moment my feet hit the ground. His hands go by my waist without touching me to make sure I don't fall. The small action sends my heart soaring to heights I never knew existed, and fears have vanished.

I want this.

I wouldn't call the woods around us a forest, but hundreds of trees grouped in a remote area. Leaves crunch underfoot as we weave around twigs and branches. A few people have found their way into the space, laughing and dancing like the others on the field. It's peaceful.

When I spot a fallen tree log, I grab Bobby's hand and guide him toward it.

The log is lifted slightly off the ground, and I need to jump to get on. My foot burns, but the pain is the last thing on my mind at the moment.

The rough bark scrapes against the back of my leg as I adjust myself into a comfortable position. Once situated, I'm still trying to figure out how to proceed. A lump forms in the back of my throat when I look over at Bobby. His usually bright aura is nowhere to be seen.

I have always admired Bobby's ability to walk around with confidence. He is usually so calm and collected.

He looks so small.

His elbows are perched up on his knees with his chin resting on his laced fingers. I have no idea what he is looking at, but his gaze is set on the ground below.

When his knee begins to bounce, I can no longer take the agonizing silence. The moment my hand touches his leg, his body stills, and his tense muscles unwind.