Friends Share First Night

The cabin smelled of pine and dust and the faint leftover smoke from last winter’s fires. Darius shoved the heavy door open with his shoulder, hiking pack thumping against the frame, and Sonia stepped in right behind him, cheeks still flushed from the long climb up the ridge. Nineteen years old, both of them, sweat cooling under their clothes, and for the first time in the years they’d known each other there was no one else—no parents calling from the next room, no friends crashing the night, nothing but the wide empty living room and the big stone fireplace and the knowledge that the nearest neighbor was a mile down the dirt road.

She dropped her pack by the couch and stretched, arms overhead, the thin tank top riding up to show a strip of smooth stomach. Darius watched the motion the way he’d watched a hundred smaller ones over the years—secret, hungry, careful not to get caught. Best friends since sophomore year. Study partners. Hiking partners. The one person he told everything except the one thing that sat in his chest like a live coal: he wanted her. Had wanted her since the night she’d fallen asleep on his shoulder during a movie marathon and he’d stayed perfectly still for two hours just to keep her there.

“Place is ours till Monday,” he said, voice rough from the trail. “Parents won’t be back.”

Sonia turned, dark hair sticking to her neck, and the look she gave him lasted a second too long. “Good. I’m wiped. And starving. But mostly wiped.”