Chapter 12: Willow, Queen of Homemade Brownies

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I walked my bike on the way back home, Will falling into step beside me

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I walked my bike on the way back home, Will falling into step beside me. The breeze blowing by was cool; more clouds scattered across the sky than there were when we made the trek up to the national park last week. The promise of rain was in the air, but thankfully, it hadn't made good on that promise yet; the setting sun was still out and lighting our way as we walked down the pavement, hedge maple trees interspersed among the buildings we passed.

"My house is a half-hour walk from here," I said. "We'll have to cross the bridge to get there."

"I guess you would normally get there in ten minutes or less," Will remarked, putting his hands in his pockets and pulling his jacket tighter against the wind. "So I'm significantly slowing you down."

"It's okay." I shifted my hands on the handlebars of my bike, still rolling it along beside me on one side, Will walking next to me on the other. "I make this trip every day alone, and I've been wanting to show at least one other person this route."

His eyebrows shot up in interest. "Did I just hear an allusion to a secret path?"

I smirked. "Something like that. You'll see."

The sound of our footsteps on the walkway and the clinking of my bike chain as the wheels turned slowly punctuated the otherwise still atmosphere around us. It only took us about ten minutes to reach the Deschutes River, which gushed and gurgled, the wind whipping up tiny waves on its surface.

"No," I told Will when he turned to the main bridge, motioning my head to the right. "This way."

I headed off in that direction, following the river downstream for a bit before the pavement broke off and left an earthy path, full of fallen leaves that crunched as we walked.

"Where are we going?" Will asked, ducking to avoid a tree branch.

"I promised you a secret path, didn't I?" I said, suppressing a smirk. "Secret path means secret."

"Ah, I see. It's not visible to mere mortals," Will said in a mock hushed, awed tone. "In that case, I am simply honored that you have chosen me to witness such a clandestine location."

The path opened up ahead, and our view that was obscured by trees suddenly broadened to a view of the whole length of the river. A tiny wooden bridge, barely wide enough for two people walking side by side, stretched out across the river below. Here, the water was smoother and clearer, reflecting the little sunlight that was still left in the sky.

"You bike every day across this thing?" Will asked, looking at the bridge with widened eyes. From our angle, it looks tiny, barren, and unused for perhaps many years, the wood dark and worn.

"It's safe. Probably safer for a biker than the main bridge is. Not many people come down here." I stepped onto the bridge, walking my bike alongside me. "Come on. This is the best part."

Will showed no trepidation in actually crossing the bridge, and I stopped when we were halfway across it, pointing upstream.

"That's what I get to see every day."

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