Page 2 of Every Thought Taken

And I want to. I want to get lost in her. Get lost in what we might be now.

But if the past has taught me anything, it is that I need to guard my heart now more than ever. I need to shield my soul. Because she is the only person that can shatter both. And I wouldn’t survive the blow. Not this time.

With one last stroke of her ring, I take a deep breath and inch closer. “Missed you, too,” I confess and pray the words don’t come back to haunt me.

PARTONE

PAST

CHAPTER1

HELENA

Summer—Sixteen Years Ago

“Ow!” I rub my forehead in an attempt to soothe the sting.

Laughing under her breath, Lessa jogs around the flat tent and knocks my shoulder. “You okay?” She snickers a little louder as she inspects my face. “That’s going to leave a mark.”

I roll my eyes at her and tilt my head so my hair falls forward. “Not like anyone will see it.” I wave a hand at the dense forestry. “Well, except for everyone here.” With a shrug, I bend down, swipe up the brown nylon, and grab the offensive tent pole. “Help me, please. I’d like to not get smacked again.”

She fights another laugh as she goes to the opposite side of the tent and picks up the other end of the pole. The pole she tried to anchor too early, which then sprang from my grip and whacked my face. It was an accident, but I may have to exact revenge before our camping trip ends.

As we anchor the final corner of the tent, Dad sidles up to me and inspects our handiwork. Hands on his hips, he hums his approval. “Good work, Bug.” He hooks an arm around my shoulders and hugs me to his side. “I’ll make an explorer out of you yet.” With a kiss to my crown, he releases me and wanders back to his and Mom’s tent.

Every summer, we go on our annual camping trip to Seaquest State Park. The summers before kindergarten, it was me, Dad, and Mom. We pitched one tent and soaked up nature for a long weekend. Then I met Lessa and Mags, and our camping trips took on a whole new meaning.

This is our sixth year camping as a group. Me with Mom and Dad. Mags and her parents, Maria and Jacob. Lessa, her little brother, Anderson, and their parents, Joan and Sam. It took a heck of a lot of convincing the first summer to get our three families to take the same vacation. But after days of sad eyes and moping, the parents coordinated and agreed to the joint excursion. Each summer that followed, it got easier to convince them. And now, the annual vacation is booked a year ahead.

“Did you hear Trudy from Mr. Pembrooks’s class got her period last week?” Lessa whisper-asks as she unzips ourgirls-onlytent.

She steps inside the tent, and I follow. As I sit and crisscross my legs, Mags enters then zips up the screen door. She parks next to me and mimics my position.

“What are we talking about?” Mags looks to Lessa.

“Trudy got her period last week,” Lessa repeats.

Mags winces. “How do you know?”

If there is news or gossip to be heard, Lessa is all over it. She isn’t one to spread the details beyond our small group, but she makes a point to keep us up to date. Which is why I don’t share the embarrassing details of my life with her. Like the time I tripped during PE and face-planted in the dirt. She wouldn’t have told anyone except Mags, but she probably would have teased me about it for months.

A brief, sharp hiss fills the air and we turn to see Anderson unzipping the tent screen.

“Hey, Baby A. Your tent all set up?”

Aside from the dads, Anderson is the only guy on our summer trips. More than once, I wanted to ask if he had a friend he would like to bring along. Someone from his class or a neighborhood buddy he hung out with. But I never asked.

It is a rare day if Anderson smiles—really smiles—but the week we spend here each year, there is a lightness in him I don’t see back home. And it is the lightness that keeps me from prying.

Anderson enters the tent and rezips the screen. “Yeah.” He hands us sleeping bags, then parks next to Lessa.

Most girls our age have a hate-love relationship with their siblings. Mags and I are only children, so we have nothing to compare it to except Anderson. With three years between us girls and him, you’d think he would irritate us. But he doesn’t.

Anderson joins us most days. He and Lessa have always been close and it feels natural to include him. Most of the time, he sits and listens. Keeps to himself and stares off in the distance. I don’t know if it is because our topics are of no interest to him or he doesn’t understand. Either way, he sticks around. Sometimes, it seems as if he prefers our company and nothing more.

Lessa sets her sleeping bag aside and turns her attention back to me and Mags. “About Trudy… I saw it on her profile.”

My jaw drops. “She shared that online?”