Wolf Country

Epilogue

I had a lot of dreams about what coming back to Florida would be like, but they were never like this. I get off the plane gripping my blue backpack like it's my lifeline, and with my other hand I grip Adam's tightly. My two worlds keeping my anchored to life; school and homework and Grace are one, the only one there was until I cam to Michigan. The other is Adam's world, the world of forests and wild adventures among the trees. And it's now Ryan's world, too. He steps off the plane behind us. His lean teenage football player's body has been replaced by all large biceps and forearms. In fact, all three of us have changed these last few months. We've become a formidable trio.

It took a long time to arrange this meeting with Grace. First, I had to apologize and promise to make it up to her. Then came the actual planning. Adam's been so swamped with pack duties and trying to train Ryan and I that a trip to Florida was the last thing on his mind, but he knew I had to do it.

When we exit the glass doors of the airport, I spot her new Prius waiting for us amidst the throngs of happy hellos and tearful goodbyes. She stands leaning against it and gives us a tiny wave when she sees us. Even she's changed since I last saw her. Gone are the childish bows and babydoll dresses that I always associated with my best friend. Today she sports a simple pair of jeans and a black T-shirt, her hair in loose waves around her face. She's even grown a few inches, finally catching up to me.

"Hi," she breathes when we get to her, unsure of herself. We look at each other carefully before I bring her into a long hug.

She helps us put our luggage into the trunk before getting into the driver's seat and zooming out of the airport. "How was the flight?" she says, making small talk.

"It was good." Short responses are always safe.

"You guys hungry?"

"Starving," Ryan complains, which makes us all laugh. He's always hungry; he's become the new number one fan of Adam's cooking.

"They opened this really cool place in town," she tells me excitedly. There's the Grace I know, the one who gets excited about everything. "It's where the old thrift store used to be."

"Oh, so it's a small town," Adam comments. "Small towns are more my speed."

I smile to myself and look out of the window, watching the palm trees on the side of the highway pass by. This is where I'm supposed to be, with my three closest friends, in a car on a sunny day. It's where I wanna be forever.

We finally get to town and the familiar shops and people lined up the road. Grace leads us to the restaurant and we get seated immediately since it's still pretty early on a Sunday. Ryan picks up the menu and Adam meets my eyes across the table, his thick eyebrows raised. I grin and throw my glance toward Grace, where she sits staring at the table and trying not to notice Ryan's muscles straining against his shirt.

It's working. It's definitely working.

"So what do you do now, Grace? Still painting?" I ask.

"You paint?" Ryan questions before she answers.

"Not as much as I used to, but yeah," she says, grinning like she always does when someone asks her about art.

"Not very many people paint these days. It's like a lost art," Ryan comments with a beaming smile. "What's your style?"

"I'd say a mix of Bierdstadt and Van Gogh."

"Bierstadt's great," he responds. "We have a replica of Among the Sierra Nevada Mountains in our living room."

"No way!" Grace gasps. They launch into a conversation about painting and art and I smile knowingly at Adam. He hates it, but he knows I was right.