“You guys better get moving,” Sierra says, pushing us out the door. “You know all the rules and don’t stay out too late.”
“Yes, ma’am,” George says with a cheeky grin.
“Have fun!” She waves us off.
We get down to the car and pile in. Starlee’s in the front seat next to Dexter. There’s something going on…a hesitation.
“You okay?” Dex asks.
“Yeah, I just…”
“You just what?” I ask, leaning forward.
“Do we really have to go to the dance?”
Her questions stuns me, along with the others. “You don’t want to go?” Charlie asks.
“Not really?” She pushes her hair behind her ear. “Last night was amazing. So much fun, you know? I kind of want to keep that memory of homecoming pure and not mix it up with a sweaty gym and a lot of drama.”
“Are you worried about Christina?” I ask. Dexter shoots me a look.
“No, not really. Last night was about us in front of a crowd. Tonight, I thought maybe it could just be about us—together.”
“You’d rather hang out with us than go to the dance?” George clarifies.
“Yeah? But only if it’s okay with you. I don’t want to ruin your time.”
I reach into the front seat and squeeze her shoulder. “I think it’s an amazing idea.”
“Me too,” George says. Charlie nods and Dexter starts the car.
“Where do you want to go instead?” I ask as he pulls out of the driveway.
“I have an idea,” Dexter says, turning right out of the driveway and then taking the first right past the gas station. This road only goes one place.
Yosemite.
36
Starlee
I’ve never been in the park after dark, but as usual, Dexter seems to know where he’s going. After about twenty minutes of leaning my head out the window to look at the stars above, he pulls over.
The moon is nearly full, providing a glow of light, and as we climb out of the Jeep, Dexter says, “Wait up.” He goes to the back and I hear the sound of fabric rustling. A few minutes later he returns in jeans and hiking boots, although still wearing the tie and overcoat. “I’m not walking around Mirror Lake in dress shoes.”
“Good thing you had those in the back,” I say.
“I’m always prepared,” he said. “Guys, get the fire kit.”
Fire kit?
They each grab a few things and I’m handed a bundle of blankets. It’s so dark I can’t see much away from the interior light of the car, but once they’re ready Dexter takes us down a short decline toward the water.
The gravel under our feet turns to sand and Dexter heads toward one of the small campgrounds scattered throughout the area. “We can build a fire here.”
They get to work and I stare out at the flat, glassy surface of the lake, the moon reflecting back down, making the area brighter. I feel, rather than see, the hulking mountains surrounding us, and a few minutes later the scent of burning wood wafts by.
“You got it going,” I say, walking back over. The flames lick the air, casting the boys in a yellow glow.