Rhodes asks.
Dad laughs. âNope.â
âAll I do is hold the yoke,â I say. âIâve landed us a handful of times, but always with Dadâs help. Itâs not that big a deal.â Half the people I know have small planesâand only half of those are always flown by their licensed pilot owners.
âI think itâs a big deal.â Rhodesâs face is once again resting against the glass as he takes in the world below us.
The two-lane highway follows the same windy path as the river does, like two small ribbons cutting through the evergreens and brown trees waiting for leaves. The plane banks, and Iâve taken this route often enough to know weâre close to the glacier.
The river widens and flattens out again, leaving the highway to follow the curve of the mountain instead of the curve of the water. A few large chunks of ice sit in the water, too big for the river to carry them any farther. The glacier blends into the gravel and glacial silt for a while until it gives way to blue ice and snow.
Dad lowers the plane again, like I knew he would. He loves flying right over the top of the ice. When I was a kid, weâd make up stories about pretend people who lived in all the cracks and crevices of the massive expanse. The glacier is about two-thirds the size it was when I was little, but itâs still enormous, growing from the canyon floor nearly to the mountaintops.
âYou can come up here every day?â Rhodes asks. âBecause this is amazing.â
âPlane fuel costs a bit much,â Dad says. âBut yep, if I wasnât such a penny-pincher, we for sure would. We could fly up here every day that the weather allows it.â
âThis is why I love to travel,â Rhodes says.
âWhy?â I ask.
âI love that idea that someone elseâs normal is an adventure for me. I love it when I can live somewhere long enough that the adventurous part of a new place begins to feel like every day.â
I canât imagine anything but my life feeling normal. Canât imagine college feeling normal. New York feeling normal. I can, however, imagine what it would feel like to have my face back.
âI think thatâs pretty dang admirable,â Dad says.
âKeeps life interesting,â Rhodes answers.
I want to say something witty or clever. Something that shows Rhodes a piece of the person I hope I am when I make it to college, but I come up blank. Instead I find myself jealous of a guy who isnât afraid to keep moving forward.
When Dad finally lands back in the field, I slip out of the backseat with a wave. I stumble twice after being in the air but find my legs again quickly. The church parking lot is almost all cleared outâso much for making it back in time for the end.
Elias leans on the bed of his truck and smiles, cocking an eyebrow as I get closer. âSo, your dad stole you away from your own church activity. I figured youâd be gone max thirty minutes.â
âYeah.â I stop next to Elias and then squint when someoneâs headlights hit my eyes. It is seriously not dark enough for headlights. âDadâs taken it upon himself to be Rhodesâs welcoming committee.â
I wince as Dadâs airplane hits that high whine it does when it takes off.
Elias leans back a bit. âMr. Kennedy was with you?â
âNext to Dad.â I widen my eyes as I tease him. Elias normally isnât weird about me being around guys. Iâm not sure why Rhodes is different.
I slide my hands around Eliasâs sides, and every feeling I had this afternoon in my house comes back in a rush. My lips find his. Eliasâs mouth opens and his hands thread through my hair, holding our faces together as one kiss blends into the next.
Iâm pressing against Elias as hard as I canâhips, stomach, chests. I never want us to stop. Ever.
Elias pulls back, gasping for air. âOkay. Wow. Church parking