He Says He's Just A Friend

Chapter 15 - Peace

- Emmett -

I wiped sweat off my brow with my forearm. With the sun blazing directly overhead, the forest surrounding the hiking trail offered no shade. "I can't believe I let you talk me into this. On a Saturday, no less. I could be relaxing in Carrie's pool right now."

Clay woke me early with a bag from Donut Run. He got all of my favorites. Including the jelly-filled that he disliked. It took me too long to realize it was a bribe to get me here. First-Thing-In-The-Morning Me was kind of an idiot.

"Hiking is good for you." Clay said, hooking his thumbs in the straps of his backpack. He was wearing a tank top that showed off his muscular arms and shoulders and his clavicles. I had never considered clavicles particularly sexy, but Clay's were certainly doing things to me.

"Not when it's a hundred fucking degrees Fahrenheit outside."

Clay looked down at his watch and tapped the screen. "It's eighty-two. Not a hundred."

That didn't take into account the humidity, which was stifling this time of year. One of the many joys of summers in the South.

Clay glanced back over his shoulder with an adorable smirk that gave me so many ideas that did not adhere to the guidelines of friendship—unless there were also some benefits tacked on. It had been almost three weeks now since we met, and I was no less enamored.

"I hate you," I said.

Clay laughed. The bubbly, joyful sound almost always lifted my mood. Well, not today. "You'll be thanking me when you get that endorphin rush. It's an amazing high."

"If I wanted to get high, I'd smoke a bowl."

Clay stopped, waiting for me to catch up. "You mean weed?" He sounded curious, though he didn't seem judgmental about it.

"No. I mean Cap'n Crunch."

Clay cracked a smile. He held out his water bottle when I reached him. I swiped the bottle and flipped the lid, guzzling down the frigid relief.

Clay rubbed my back. "Slow down. You're gonna drink it all, and we're only halfway there."

"Ugh! Fuck my fucking life!" My voice echoed too loudly through the tranquil woods.

Clay made a strange face and started walking again.

I huffed, flipping the lid closed on the bottle. I trailed behind Clay, stomping my feet to show my disdain. I was being a petty bitch, but it didn't faze him at all. He just grinned at me, like he found my tantrums endearing.

"I've never tried anything like that before," Clay said.

It took me a moment to recall what we had been talking about as I'd gotten distracted by the dusting of freckles across his shoulders. "Um, weed or Cap'n Crunch? They pair well together, y'know."

"The Cap'n and I have a long, complicated history. I love his work with peanut butter, but it wrecks the roof of my mouth."

"The things we love often cause us pain."

"Don't I know it." Clay mumbled. I suspected I wasn't meant to hear that. Then, louder, he said, "I meant weed."

I smiled at him, even though he was facing the other way. "I know what you meant, Clay."

"I was always afraid I'd be one of those people that gets super paranoid and ends up crying in a corner."

"That's never happened to me. I just get mellow."

Clay stopped walking to wait for me again. "I'm not sure I even really want to try it."

"That's cool, too. No peer pressure here, my friend."