Chapter Thirty-Five

      “Chase,” I whined, “why are we here?”

      “Because I wanted to do something fun,” he said, walking ahead of me. What a real gentleman…

      “How is this fun?” I questioned, not comprehending how the word “fun” could be associated with the grueling action we were now doing.

      “Believe me Jules, when we get to the top, it’ll be worth it,” he assured me, as I stepped over a twig that looked more like a snake, causing me to squirm.

      “I don’t like hiking!” I proclaimed. Honestly, what teenager, regardless of gender, thinks that hiking up a freaking mountain equivalent to Mount Everest is “fun”? The answer to that question is clearly my dear boyfriend, Chase Ryan. Of course...

      “Do you want to take a break?” he asked, stopping, and allowing me to catch up to him. I nodded as he pulled out two water bottles from the black backpack he had been carrying on his back the entire time. He handed me one, and I gladly accepted, gulping down on the cool liquid, savoring every last drop as it flowed down my throat.

      “Thanks,” I said, giving him the now empty water bottle.

      “You ready to keep going?” he asked.

      “Yeah,” I said, though if it were safe I would have seriously considered rolling down the area on the big hill we had just covered. I hate hiking.

      He resumed to walk, and I followed behind, shivering at the sight of an ant, spider, and all creatures unknown to me. Bugs are gross. There were a lot of leaves on the ground, which surprised me a great deal, seeing as how it was spring, and not fall. The root of a tree got in my way, tripping me. Chase looked back, as I stood up, and brushed myself off as if nothing had happened.

      “You okay?” he asked.

      “Fine,” I mumbled, continuing on our journey to who knows where. My lungs could feel the change in elevation, as we ascended up the side of the mountain. Breathing was starting to become something that took thought, oppose to its normal effortlessness. It wasn’t too bad, but it was noticeable.

      On the way, we passed by other hikers that were more enthused about climbing the fucking hill than I. The people we passed were most likely insane or unstable mentally if they were actually enjoying climbing up a mountain. Chase had barely even broken a sweat, and was doing fine. I on the other hand, had droplets of moister dripping down my forehead and neck, drenching my shirt in grossness.

      Chase hadn’t told me where we were going, but he told me to wear shorts and a T-shirt. I didn’t object only because he told me anything else other than that simple ensemble would result in me looking like a moron. I had chosen a simple, purple V-neck and a pair of red shorts.

      My footwear was more the concern that Chase had held when arranging our little “date”. He told me to wear something comfortable and durable. Converse and Vans were both out of the question. I found a pair of old sneakers I had forgotten about in the back of my closet, and put them on, not overly pleased with the lack of style they possessed. To sum up: I looked like crap.

      We came to an extremely rocky part in the trail, not that the entire path didn’t have rocks, but this segment was particularly stony. I lifted my leg, setting it on one of the larger stones. Chase, still ahead of me, looked back, and held a hand out, offering to help me up. I accepted, and he pulled me up so we were level with each other.

      “How much longer?” I whined.

      “We’re almost there, I promise,” he replied, as I noticed even now not an ounce of sweat had found its way to his body.

      “Good,” I grumbled, as an unknown serge of energy began coursing through my body. I walked past him, determined to get this mountain over with. I heard the small sound of a twig being broken and a few pebbles rustling, indicating that Chase was following close behind. I didn’t look back. I kept going. Determination to get to the peak is a wonderful motivation when climbing a mountain… or a big hill.

      A faint sound of running water met my ears, and a dim hope that we were at the top jabbed my mind. We progressed more, the swish of the water growing as we did so. I looked around, and saw no trances of water.

      “Where’s the water coming from?” I asked Chase.

      “Up ahead,” he answered. I nodded my head, continuing to hike as pain struck my calf muscles. Hiking sucks. After a few more minutes of Chase silently walking as I panted, having the sudden urge to inhale an entire oxygen tank, we came to a halt- well, more Chase did.

      “What the fuck?” I said, puzzled as to why he had stopped.

      “There’s your water,” he said, pointing to a stream. I looked at the less than clear water, and smiled. There was my water. Not quite the summit of the mountain, but it was refreshing to see something other than trees, rocks, dirt, and bugs.

      “There it is,” I said. “Chase, it’s getting late, are we seriously almost there?”

      “I promise, there’s not that much to go. Twenty minutes top,” he said.

      “Really?”

      “Really.”

      “Let’s get this over with,” I sighed. We continued to trudge up the inclined mountainside, the before blue sky now a less brighter color. My legs were aching, the pain taking over my entire body, but I kept going. All I wanted was for this to end.

      “Jules!” Chase shouted in front of me, though I had barely noticed him passing me.

      “What?” I called back, about ready to close my eyes and collapse.

      “In about a hundred feet is the top,” he yelled back. I processed his words slowly, and grinned. Without thinking about, I began to run, not caring if every muscle and bone in my body opposed. I reached Chase, and he took my hand. We carefully sprinted the last few yards as if we were coming first place in a big marathon. Then, I saw it.

      I was speechless, not being able to think back to a time when I had seen anything as beautiful as the sight in front of me. Before us was a painting-like scene. Below was a shimmering ocean with waves bouncing up and down due to the breeze. Above the ocean was the sun beginning to set, magnificent shades of orange and yellow stretched throughout the sky. It was amazing.

      Chase too was soundless, smiling at the incredible view. So maybe climbing up the big hill was worth it. Maybe. He squeezed our still connected hands, and whispered, “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

      “Yeah,” I said, savoring the moment. “Did you take me up here to show me it?”

      “Eh, kinda,” he replied, as we sat down on the browning grass, the sunset staying in our vision.

      “What’s the other reason?” I asked.

      “Jules, before you came back, I felt like I was missing something. When you came along, you became my heroine, and saved me,” he said.

      “Chase, I think that that might be the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me, being compared to a drug and all, but I’m not understanding…” I said, confused with what he was trying to communicate to me.

      “What?”

      “I’m you’re heroin…”

      “No! I didn’t mean it like that,” he laughed, “like as in the female to ‘hero’- heroine. You saved me like a hero?”

      “Oh… Well, I still think being compared to a drug is sick,” I shrugged. Though drugs are probably my least favorite things in the world, being equated to one is like saying that you’re someone’s addiction, and that they need you. Though it wasn’t his intent, I think I was sweet.

      “You know what, drop the heroine analogy.”

      “Okay…”

      “Julia Tylers, I know this is may be soon to say, but… I love you,” he said, interrupting the tranquility of watching the dusk take over the sky.

      Those three words: I, love, and you. They had the power make someone feel everything good in life, and to break a person. Eight letter that held the fate of ones relationship. Three words that could change a person’s life. One universal meaning that no matter the language meant the same thing: te amo, أحبك, 我爱你, Mahal kita, je t’aime, ich liebe dich, אני אוהב אותך, Is breá liom tú, 내가당신을사랑, ятебялюблю, I love you. Eight letters, three words, one meaning.

      Over the span of my life, there have been three different types of people who have said those words to me: family, friends, and... Josh. When my mom and dad used to tuck me in at night, they would tell me, “I love you.” When I saw relatives they would say, “I love you,” and I would mutter back the expected correspondence, “Love you too…” When Emily, Taylor, and I were friends, we would tell each other that phrase as a sign of the ultimate friendship. All those other times, were standard, and expected, but when Joshua Woods uttered those three words to me, I changed.

      It was the first time a boy (besides my dad and Adam) had ever said something like that to me. It was unexpected, and I didn’t know how to respond. He had to prompt me, asking if I loved him back. I said yes, and as time progressed saying that phrase became more natural. Love isn’t just a word, it’s a feeling that takes over your entire body. I loved him, but clearly he didn’t truly feel the same way…

      I thought for a moment about all pros and cons that came with Chase. After quickly weighing out my options, I concluded that there was not a single thing that I didn’t love about him… except maybe his strange liking for climbing mountains. Chase was perfect. He was sweet, nice, truthful, honest, cute, and everything I wanted in a boyfriend, even if when I had first moved back I didn’t know it.

      But did I love him? In my mind, you’re only supposed to love one boy (or girl, depending on who you are). He’s the guy that you’ll spend with for the rest of your life because without him there’s a never-ending void that can’t be sewn up by a simple Band-Aid to the heart. When he’s not near you, you miss him and wish the two of you could be together. He’s ‘the one’; the one boy that changes your life forever.

      I’ve already said those words falsely to a boy, and becoming a repeat offender in insincerely saying that phrase didn’t sound too appealing to me. If I was going to say it again, I wanted to make sure it was real this time. “I love you” isn’t a throwaway saying you use to fill emptiness in a conversation, it actually means something. If I was going to say it back to Chase, I wanted my heart to truly know it was genuine… this time.

      “Jules?” Chase said, worry in his voice, after a few seconds of me not responding.

      “Do you promise?” I questioned.

      “What?”

      “Do you promise?” I repeated.

      “Do I promise what?”

      “Do you promise that you love me?” I asked.

      “Of course, I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” he said, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb.

      “Well then, Chase Ryan, I love you too,” I said, the words sounding odd coming from my own mouth. I had said it. Emotions began swirling about in my mind and a feeling of absolute mush (in the lovey-dovey gross way) was setting off the butterflies in my stomach.

      As my feelings grew, I felt a soft surface brush my lips. I kissed back lightly as first, before Chase deepened the kiss, pressing harder on my lips. His tongue slipped past my lips, and explored the uncharted territory of my mouth. The butterflies in my belly were replaced by elephants with wings, that were now stomping about. This was love.

      After a few moments of sharing an affectionate kiss, we both pulled apart, and went back to staring at the sunset. It was like being in a movie- or one of those passages you read about in a teen fiction novels; everything was exemplifying what love is.

      “So, Jules, you ready to go down now?” Chase asked. I turned my head swiftly, facing him. He had to be kidding. We had just walked up the big fucking hill, and now he expected us to go down it? What the hell? I looked at his face, searching for any signs of facetiousness, but there were none.

      “We’re not really going to walk down all that, again?” I said.

      “We might,” he said.

      “But I’m cold!” I complained.

      “Then take,” he paused, sifting through his backpack, “this.” He withdrew a bright red sweatshirt that looked worn, and handed it to me.

      “What for?” I asked.

      “To wear,” he said, shoving it into my hands.

      “I’m still against it,” I muttered, pulling it on over my head. There was a very distinct scent about it. I couldn’t quite make out what it was. The fragrance resembled a mix of Axe and sweat. Some girls hate when boys wear Axe. Personally, I like the manly perfume. It’s fresh, clean, and just… good. But, overall, the sweatshirt smelled like Chase.

      “Now, we could walk down this lovely mountain, or… use the ski lift that may or may not be conveniently located about twenty yards away from here,” he smirked, standing up. He yanked me up from the ground, and I stood across from him.

      “Do you want to give me a piggy bag ride?” I asked.

      “Not really.”

      “Please?” I pouted.

      “Fine,” he sighed. I smiled, hopping on his back, and securing my legs around his waist. I hung my arms around his neck, and he started to walk. He walked about twelve feet, and then shook me off. “It’s right up ahead, I think you can make it.”

      “But I don’t want to,” I complained.

      “Too bad. Bet I can beat’cha there!” he challenged, a competitive glint in his eyes.

      “Oh, you’re on!” I accepted.

      “Okay, on the count of three. One, two-” I sprinted, knowing that he had the unfair advantage of being Chase on his side. I ran as far as my legs could carry me, until I finally saw one of the most beautiful sights I had seen in my life… besides the sunset: a ski lift. Chase caught up to me, and stood beside me.

      “So, why is there a ski lift here?” I questioned.

      “During the winter this place is a ski resort,” he answered.

      “Some resort,” I snorted.

      “Well, we could always walk down…” he said in reply to my sneering comment.

      “No thanks!” I said, jogging over to the lift. He followed behind, laughing to himself.

      We came to a bored looking man, and Chase handed him a twenty-dollar bill from within his backpack. This backpack was nothing like Mary Poppins’ bag, but let me tell you, it was pretty big. The guy temporarily stopped the lift, allowing us to get on. We sat on seat, and a bar came down, holding us in place.

      “I love you, Jules,” Chase said, as we began to descend, the ocean serving as a lovely sight to meet our eyes.

      “I love you too, Chase,” I said, taking his hand, and weaving over fingers together. If climbing up a mountain (somewhat) willingly isn’t a sign of love, I don’t know what is.