“That’s the myth where she gets kidnapped and has to spend half the year in hell, right?”
She laughs softly. “Yeah, that’s the basic version. But there’s a lot of re-imaginings of it that make it less…harsh than that.”
“What version of it would you write, if you got the chance?”
She stops in her tracks and looks at me. “No one’s ever asked me that before.”
“Have you thought about it?”
“Yeah,” she says, her fingers running across the cover of her notebook. “In my version she wouldn’t be kidnapped. She would be in love. So overwhelmed with it that she would run away to hell to be with that person. But she still has responsibilities to the rest of the world, and so she splits her time between them.”
I nod. “That’s a nicer version.”
“That’s the good thing about the myths. No one minds if you change them up. It’s completely fine.”
We reach the section of the path that opens up into a glade with a waterfall. There’s a giant rock that sits at the edge of the pool, and when the path is open, this place is usually pretty busy. This is one of the only times that I’ve seen it completely vacant.
“For what it’s worth,” I say, “even if it’s selfish, I’m glad you’re stuck for the summer.”
Looking over at me, Seph breaks into a shy smile. “Maybe it won’t be so bad.”
She climbs up onto the rock, and I take a moment before I follow her, watching her take it in. Seph has a way of observing the world that is entirely new to me. She seems to soak in everything around her. She’s present. It makes me want to pay more attention to absolutely everything.
When I join her on top of the rock she sits down, and she’s smiling even though I don’t think that she realizes it. “I love this place. It feels like being in a place where time is standing still, and the only thing that’s moving is the water, and that’s because it doesn’t have a choice. This is a place that the universe forgot and now it’s only ours.”
I understand what she means. Hidden away from everything and entirely alone, this place feels special. “You should be a poet,” I say.
“I’ve never been good at poetry,” she says quietly, “but I do want to be a writer. And the traveling is part of that. I want to write about what I see.”
“Poetic prose then.”
She shakes her head. “I’m really not that good.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” I say, grinning.
“Seriously.”
“Prove it. Let me read what’s in that notebook that you take everywhere.”
Seph only hesitates for a couple of seconds before she hands me the notebook. “Okay.”
“Anything specific I should read?”
She shakes her head, and I flip it open to a random page. Her handwriting is better than mine will ever hope to be.
Here time can stand still. The wind will blow and sound disappears and it feels like the world has stopped spinning for the space of one heartbeat. And that heartbeat lasts for a thousand years and not at all.
It in those moments that I can remember lifetimes before my own. This has always been here, and we’re just fragments of light passing by. But for a single moment the world revolves around us. We’re the center of the world, and everything hinges on the breath we take.
But you have to notice it.
I don’t read anymore, but I don’t look up from the page, because I think I’m having one of those moments right now. These words are stunning and clear, and even though I’m not sure I’ve felt what she’s describing I can imagine it with such clarity that my chest aches.
“Seph,” I say, “this is beautiful.”
She stares at me, the look on her face telling me that she’s deciding whether or not I’m lying. I’m not.
Her eyes flick to my lips then back to my eyes, and she leans forward and kisses me. I go still with shock, and then she’s pulling back, blushing.
I’ve never kissed anyone before, and I’m glad that it was her. That it’s us right now. Because I like her. More than I probably should. And I don’t say anything as I set the notebook on the rock beside me and pull her closer. I give Seph every chance to pull away, and she doesn’t.
And so I kiss her.
I don’t plan on stopping for a long time.
7
Persephone
Present
I could have sworn when I looked at the schedule this morning that David was the counselor overseeing archery with me today. But when I come out of the cabin fully changed—no way was I going to stay in my bathing suit after that—Eric is already there overseeing the boys.
He has a bow slung across his back and is showing several of them the proper way to pull back the string so that you don’t cut your fingers on it when you release.