Fire

Kayla's visit had been a surprise to Cheyenne. Kayla wasn't very forward. It'd probably taken her the entire day to work up the courage to come over, and maybe a tiny part of Cheyenne respected her for that effort.

But the fact remained: Kayla had gone behind Cheyenne's back. And if she'd lied about Tom, what else had she lied about?

It was the deception that hurt worse than the act itself.

Cheyenne and Eric had been over for a while; they just hadn't realized it yet. The fact that Kayla's secret relationship lasted longer than Cheyenne's seemed like a slap in the face.

Cheyenne couldn't stop wondering why he'd pick Kayla out of all the girls in Birch Falls. Cheyenne would have bet her salary on Tom being the stereotypical rock musician; dating models or well paid strippers.

Footsteps pounded the paved trail off to Cheyenne's right. She quickly slammed her sketch book shut and held it below her armpit. When she saw who it was, she froze.

It was Tom.

When he saw her, he stopped running, setting his hands on his hips, his shoulders rising and falling with quickened breath. He hesitated on the trail as if trying to decide whether he should approach.

Finally, he walked over the freshly cut grass, his black boots wet at the toes from the wet grass.

"Hi," Tom plopped down beside her, wiping sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his t-shirt. "did you see Puck run through here? Kayla's gonna be pissed if he gets dirty. You think it rained last night?" He glanced down at his boots.

They sat in silence for a minute. Tom spoke up again. "You didn't see Puck at all?"

She shook her head. "No. Don't tell me he got out of his leash again. Why don't you watch him?"

Tom hunched forward, propping his elbows on his knees. He watched the family in the clearing toss their Frisbee around. "It's not my fault. He's so small. And plus Kayla doesn't do a good job of keeping an eye on him either."

Cheyenne laughed. "You two would be horrible parents."

He straightened and draped his arms over the back of the bench. "I love her," he said.

"Yeah."

"You've loved her for what, years?" He licked his lips, turned those intense blue eyes on her. "Does it really matter now? It's really not a big deal. I think you should forgive her."

It did matter. But Tom had a point.

The two girls in the clearing laughed as their dad did a victory dance after catching a high Frisbee toss. The mom snapped another picture. Cheyenne clung to her sketchbook, her fingers running along the wire spine.

"So that's it, then," she said, looking over at Tom now. "I mean, i guess you should be going now. Puck could be chasing the ducks in the pond."

Tom nodded. "Wouldn't want the kiddos to see a dog tear a duck limb-from-limb."

Tom stood and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. He started to walk back toward the trail but stopped and glanced over his shoulder at Cheyenne. "Oh. And about Eric; he wants to get back together. In case you were wondering." He winked at her and walked off.