Into the mountains

Chapter 2

The steady crunch of boots on the trail filled the silence between Alex and Spencer as they hiked deeper into the mountains. The forest around them thickened, the air growing cooler as the elevation rose, and the distant chatter of the other groups slowly faded away.

Alex adjusted the straps on his bag, his mind still reeling from Spencer's earlier comment. You seem like you're always in your head. No one had ever said something like that to him, at least not so casually. Most people saw him as the confident athlete, the guy who had everything under control. But Spencer had seen through that, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

It unsettled him.

Alex glanced over at Spencer, who was walking with the same calm, measured pace, eyes fixed ahead on the trail. He hadn't said much since that remark, and Alex wasn't sure if he should be relieved or annoyed. There was something about Spencer's quietness that made Alex hyper-aware of every thought in his head, like he was being examined without even realizing it.

The path ahead grew steeper, and Alex found himself breathing harder as they climbed. He kept his eyes focused on the trail, trying to distract himself from the awkwardness.

"So," Spencer said, breaking the silence, "you really don't mind hiking with me?"

Alex didn't look over, only a huff from taking a large step. "Why would I mind?"

Spencer shrugged, struggling to find the right words. "I don't know. You... don't seem like the kind of guy who hangs out with people like me."

Alex finally turned his head, raising an eyebrow. "People like you?"

"You know—the whole... no friends social suicide," Spencer said, waving a hand vaguely. "We're just, I don't know, different."

Alex gave a small nod. "I guess we are."

They continued in silence, the path winding higher into the mountains. The trees grew denser, the air crisper. The golden autumn leaves above them created a canopy of soft light, but despite the beauty around him, Alex felt like he was miles away, trapped inside his own thoughts.

It wasn't long before the trail grew narrower, and the climb more difficult. Alex could hear his friends' voices farther down the mountain, laughing and making jokes about who would reach the top first. The sound faded with each step, and soon, it was just him and Spencer.

"How are you not tired?" Spencer muttered after a while, noticing Alex's unbothered expression.

Alex glanced at him.

Spencer huffed out a laugh. "You don't talk much do you?"

"I do."

Spencer laughed under his breath, the sound hollow. "doesn't sound like it"

"Is this why you hang out with so many people. So no one notices."

Alex stopped walking for a second, taken aback by how casually Spencer had just dissected him. He blinked, trying to process what had just been said.

"I don't—" Alex started, then paused, not knowing how to finish.

Spencer didn't press him, just kept walking, his footsteps steady on the trail. For a few moments, Alex watched him move ahead, then hurried to catch up, his thoughts swirling. No one talked to him like this—like they could see the things he was trying to hide.

As they continued climbing, the trail eventually leveled out into a clearing. The view opened up before them, revealing a vast expanse of mountains and forest stretching for miles beneath a pale blue sky. The sun hung low, casting long shadows across the landscape. It was breathtaking.

"Wow," Alex breathed, stopping to take in the sight. He had to admit, it was worth the hike. For a moment, the unease inside him settled, replaced by the awe of the view.

Spencer stood beside him, his expression calm as he gazed out at the mountains. "It's peaceful, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Alex agreed, his voice quieter now. For the first time in hours, he felt the tension in his chest loosen. The wide, open sky made the world feel bigger, and his problems—his confusion, his frustration—seemed small in comparison.

They stood in silence for a few minutes, just taking in the view. Alex found himself sneaking a glance at Spencer, watching how the golden light caught the edge of his profile. There was something different about him—something that made Alex feel less... heavy. It didn't make sense. None of this did.

Spencer suddenly turned, meeting Alex's gaze, and for a second, Alex felt like he'd been caught staring. He quickly looked away, his heart skipping a beat.

"We should set up camp soon," Spencer said, adjusting his backpack. "It'll get dark fast in the mountains."

"Yeah, sure," Alex replied, grateful for the distraction. He followed Spencer off the main trail, searching for a good spot to set up camp.

They found a small clearing beneath a cluster of pine trees, the ground soft with fallen needles and moss. Spencer moved with an easy confidence as he started unpacking, setting up his tent with the kind of efficiency that made it look effortless.

Alex, on the other hand, struggled with his tent's tangled poles and uneven stakes. After a few minutes of fumbling, he let out a frustrated groan. "How the hell do you make this look so easy?"

Spencer looked up, amused. "Need help?"

Alex sighed, dropping the tent pole. "Yeah, sure. Go ahead and laugh."

Spencer didn't laugh, though. He knelt down beside Alex and helped straighten out the tent, his movements quick and sure. As they worked side by side, Alex couldn't help but feel a strange sense of calm wash over him.

"There," Spencer said after a few minutes, securing the last stake. "All set."

"Thanks," Alex muttered, feeling both embarrassed and oddly grateful. He glanced at Spencer, expecting some kind of smug comment, but Spencer just smiled slightly and stood up, brushing the dirt off his hands.

As the sun dipped lower, casting a warm glow through the trees, Alex settled into his tent, lying back against his pack. His mind raced, the day's events swirling through his thoughts. Spencer's calm, his quiet strength, the way he'd seen through Alex without even trying—it was all too much.

And yet, as the evening air cooled and the shadows stretched long across the forest floor, Alex couldn't shake the feeling that something was shifting. Something he wasn't ready to face, but couldn't seem to avoid.