guy in Minnesota. Or in the Boy Scouts. And no one in my family could really understand.”
I nodded.
“But freshman year I had Mr. Grinage for English. He was the first black male teacher I’d ever had. He just—it was nice to have someone in my life who knew how it felt to face some of the same stuff I was facing. He helped me a lot. And our new Scout Master is black, and that’s been . . . awesome.” Jesse chuckled and repocketed the rock. “I can’t believe I just told you all that. After my moms and Micky, you are the fourth.”
My stomach felt warm. “Thanks for making me the fourth,” I said.
He gave me a half smile. “You’ve got some kind of witchcraft in you, Zelda . . . what’s your last name?”
“It’s hyphenated—Mom and Dad’s last names together: Bailey-Cho.”
“Bailey-Cho,” he repeated. “Zelda Bailey-Cho. I like it.”
“So do I.”
He smiled.
My heart leapt into my throat again. “And you?” I swallowed.
“Also hyphenated. Rose-Eerdmans.”
“Jesse Rose-Eerdmans.”
“Everyone thinks my middle name is Rose.”
I giggled. “Poor middle school you . . .”
“Yeah. Micky always said it shouldn’t matter that everyone thought I had a girl’s name as my middle name as,” he made finger quotes with one hand, “ ‘Girls are awesome and things associated with them shouldn’t be insulting to boys.’ ”
I laughed, already liking this Micky Rose-Eerdmans.
“But not all of the students at St. Louis Park Middle School had caught up with her progressive values, so I finally decided I had two choices: beat up everyone who laughed at me, or let it go.”
“And you picked Elsa.”
He chuckled. “I let it go . . . I like that you could already guess that.”
We grinned at each other. But then he looked up over my shoulder, and his face fell.
I whirled around, sure it was Ben.
Relief flooded in. Just rocks and trees and the wind.
“I don’t like the color of the sky,” Jesse said.
I looked straight up. The heavens were suddenly a deep slate blue. “Where did that come from?”
“Storms come up fast in the mountains.” He checked his watch. Then he peered at the sky again. “Trust me?”
My “yes” lodged in my throat. “That’s a . . . bigger question than you probably mean it to be.” I knew Jesse wasn’t Ben, but— “It’s just, Ben—”
Jesse’s eyes were all concern. “Oh. I—we need to take cover. And there’s a little alcove in some rocks, but it’s off the path. That’s all I mean. Will you follow me? You don’t have to. We can run back. We might make it. Probably make it even. It’s totally up to you.”
I think it was because he offered me a choice. But that was the moment that I knew in my cells that being with Jesse felt totally different from being with Ben. Trust your partner. I was realizing I couldn’t trust every partner in every situation. But it felt right to trust Jesse.
So, I did.
CHAPTER THIRTY
We skittered along a very narrow trail that Jesse told me was a deer path. After following it for only a minute or so, we emerged into a small clearing largely taken up by a porch-size rock as tall as me.
“Over here,” Jesse said as the first drops of rain started to plop onto our backpacks. He offered me his hand, and I took it. We bushwhacked around to the far side of the rock, and it opened into a small cave with enough space for us to climb in with our packs out of the rain.
He pulled me in after him and slipped out of his backpack. I copied his movements and slid in next to him, and then seconds later, sheets of rain poured out of the sky like water from a pitcher. It took my breath away.
“Storms are nuts up here!” he yelled over the downpour, looping one arm around his knee.
“Seems like it!” I yelled back. I pulled both of my knees up to my chest.
Then lightning flashed across the sky and less than two seconds later, the thunder boomed. Instinctively, we leaned in to close the gap between us.
“How long do storms normally last up here?” I called over the cacophony.
His shoulder shrugged against mine. “Hard to say!”
But before I had a chance to consider our new position in this raging storm, Jesse turned to face me. “Will you tell me about Ben?” he shouted/asked.
I took in a deep breath.
He furrowed his brow. “Look—I . . . I like you.”
My heart ping-ponged in