Teacher - Voyeur

“Besides, around this bend, and we should be there.”

“Where exactly is there?”

“The end. The views are supposed to be phenomenal.”

“We’ve already seen a ton of views. Maybe we should skip this last one. I mean, we still have to hike the whole way back.”

“This one is the best.”

Part of me wanted to collapse and cry, tell him to just leave me. I was on the edge of slipping into drama queen mode.

We’d been walking along the edge of a mountain, in and out of thick trees, coming along beautiful views. Each one better than the last the higher we climbed. Just when I thought my legs would go full diva and give out without my permission, we broke through another clearing of trees.

“Holy shit,” I breathed.

“Told you.”

Every ache and pain slipped away at the view laid out in front of me. Daniel grabbed my hand and led me out on the layering of rocks, taking me all the way to the edge. Brown with spots of green stretched out like a thick blanket covering sharp edges and deep valleys. Everywhere I turned, the view greeted, shifting, and changing. Look to the left, the dark patch of sparkling water broke up the blanket. Turn to the right, the highest peak rose in the sky. Look straight out, a valley between the ridges stretching as far as I could see.

It was magnificent, awe-inspiring.

“I figured we’d have lunch here.”

“Here?”

“Unless you’re ready to turn around and head back now?”

“God, no,” I said, dropping my backpack immediately.

Daniel laughed and gently pulled his down, opening up the top to pull out container after container.

“When did you pack all of this?”

“I was up before you this morning. I don’t sleep in.”

“Damn.” I’d been up at six-thirty. I didn’t usually sleep late, but that was still early for a day I didn’t have to go into work. For some reason, I imagined Daniel sleeping until noon, rolling out of bed and working-slash-partying until three am, just to do it all over again.

I had to admit, seeing this settled part of him broke off a chunk of who I thought he was, to reveal who he really is.

“If you want to open the bottom zipper, I packed a blanket to lay out. Nothing much, just enough to keep the bugs off.”

We sat in silence, enjoying our sandwiches, granola, and the most amazing views I’d ever seen.

Finishing off my last bite, I leaned back and sighed.

“Good?”

“Amazing.” I tipped my head back and let the sun warm my face, soaking up the vitamin D. “Do you hike a lot?”

“Not as much as I’d like.” He wrapped the trash up and stuffed it away before leaning back to mimic my posture. “Like I said, I don’t leave Ohio often. I’ve done a few trails in New York when I can.”

“Does Kent go with you?”

“No,” he laughed. “Well, he’s gone once, but only to bungee jump. He’s more city, and I’m more nature.”

“I kind of figured you both for city people.”

“I love the city. I love Cincinnati, but Kent is more fast-paced, where I like to enjoy these moments. The isolation. The quiet. But it’s good—we mesh. He pushes me to do more, and I calm him down…while sometimes encouraging him,” he added with a small smile.

“Did you hike when you were younger?”

“Some. We weren’t rich, so vacations were few and far between. Not that we were poor, but we weren’t traveling everywhere, and Ohio isn’t the best place for hiking. A little flat.”

“You could hike the cornfields,” I joked.

“Thrilling adventure right there.” He looked out over the edge and sucked in a deep breath, his chest stretching the edges of his shirt, before slowly letting it out. “That’s why Sabrina and I always said we wanted to travel. She made me promise to take her hiking one day.”

Was that his reason for this trip? I knew I’d told Erik we both had our reasons for going that had nothing to do with one another, but who did he see sitting by his side right now. I chose the mountains, but did he choose the hike to create what he missed with the one girl he loved?

The beauty of the view dimmed at the thought, and I reprimanded myself for letting it matter. It didn’t matter. We were friends.

“That’s the first time you’ve told me her name.”

“Yeah.” He laughed and rubbed his hand through his hair. “I don’t talk about her much.”

“She must have really broken your heart.”

When he didn’t say anything, I looked over and watched him stare out at the distance and swallow hard.

“She killed herself our Sophomore year.”

The words slammed into me like a Mack truck, stealing the air from my lungs. Fire burned up the back of my throat, and I struggled to find words to say.

“Daniel,” I breathed.

“I named Voy after her. She always wanted to travel, and we promised we’d do it together. We’d talk about all the places we’d go and where we wanted to start. She was Puerto Rican, and Voy means I go in Spanish. It fit with Voyeur, so it was kind of perfect.”