After the End

32 MILES

I AWAKE WHEN THE COOL AIR OF THE EVENING smacks me in the face. Juneau is offering me her arm. “You’re going to have a crick in your neck and be no good for driving if you sleep like that,” she says. She shuffles me out of the car and over to the tent, where I groggily lie down on my side.

Juneau leaves and then returns with a mug of steaming liquid. “I made some tea. This will help you sleep better.” It tastes like licorice and marshmallow, and I drain the whole thing before lying back down.

“I’m sorry if it seemed like I didn’t believe you,” I say sleepily. “It’s just a lot to hear all at once. But I definitely wasn’t making fun of you. I’m only trying to help.”

Her lips curl up on the edges and she looks almost embarrassed. “I know. I could tell,” she says, and takes my hand in hers.

The touch of our skin sets off a reaction in me. I am immediately awake… 100 percent present. And it feels like a whirlwind of thorns is whipping around in my chest, stinging me all over from the inside. That makes it sound painful. It isn’t. It’s the kind of itching sensation that makes you want to do something crazy. That spurs you forward to act on an idea you didn’t even know was in your head.

Or maybe I did know it, but have pushed it away because Juneau was my ticket to redemption with my dad and I didn’t want to mess that up. Now that she’s told me her story, I’m certain there’s been some kind of mix-up. No matter what Dad says, she’s no spy. Okay, she’s been raised to believe some pretty weird things, but that’s clearly not her fault. And for her to have gone through what she has, Juneau must be incredibly strong. And brave.

I realize all this just as I notice that, for once, she’s dropped her defensiveness. Her tawny eyes brush my face with compassion, and I have an overwhelming urge to pull her to me, take her in my arms, and kiss her.