"So, are you gonna finally tell me what today's holiday is?"
Pete took his eyes off the desolate country road just long enough to cast a glance at Amy, his best friend since grade school, where she rode shotgun with her bare feet up on the dash. She just gave him an innocent shrug and knowing smile.
"Number 195," she said. "Now, eyes on the road."
"Not even a hint?" He did as she asked, not that there was much to see out on the road save endless miles of trees and the heat mirage coming off baked pavement from the late morning July sun. They hadn't seen another car in nearly ten minutes.
"You're welcome to guess."
Pete sighed. "Well, I know it's out of town and we're bringing a picnic lunch. And you said I should wear a swimsuit and bring a towel. So...National Picnic Lunch Day? Go Swimming Day?"
"Both perfectly good guesses, but wrong. Although we'll likely be doing both."
"More fun that Donut Day?"
Amy chuckled. "Hopefully. Could we have found any worse donuts on earth that day? Pathetic, really."
Yes, the donuts had been disappointingly stale, but it was the time they'd spent together on that day seeking out donuts and on every other day of the year so far without fail, celebrating one obscure made-up holiday after another, that Pete had really savored. It was at a New Year's Eve party last winter, as high school seniors, that Amy had put forth the idea.
"I wish we could celebrate holidays every day," she'd said to him as the clock ticked down the last few seconds until 2017.
"That'd certainly be a challenge to keep up," he'd countered, assuming she was just making up stuff to talk about.
"Challenge accepted, then."
"What do you mean?"
"Starting in one minute, with the new year, I'm going to celebrate a holiday every day of the year," she said. "And, of course, day one will be to honor New Year's Day by making that my resolution."
"Okay, you do that."
"And you're going to do it with me."
She'd given him a pointed look, one that told him she fully expected him to join her in this bizarre endeavor. It was exactly the sort of thing she would do and he believed if anyone could keep it up for an entire year, it would be her. Were it anyone else, he'd have politely declined, but this was Amy. If it made her happy, he was in.
"Okay, sure," he'd said. "But you're in charge of finding the holidays."
"Deal."
They shook on it and then joined the others at the party in counting down the final seconds to the new year. When it happened, Amy leaned up and gave him a quick kiss. He'd been so flummoxed that he barely kissed her back. Afterward, she'd looked as embarrassed as he felt. That had been their first and still only kiss. He'd wondered if she'd done it out of holiday tradition or because she felt something more for him than she'd ever confessed before. He knew he had feelings for her, but had never felt the right moment to express them and was afraid to ruin their friendship if he did. She treated him like her best bud and there had never been a hint of interest in anything other than that. Even when February 14th came around and he thought she might open the door to something, she'd instead had them celebrate International Book Giving Day, and she'd given him a copy of Island of the Sequined Love Nun.
Over half the year had gone by since that resolution was made -- 194 days of memories and laughs in celebrating peculiar holidays like Pink Shirt Day, International Pancake Day, Toy Soldier Day, Middle Name Pride Day (when they only answered to Miranda and Charles), Save a Spider Day, Be Mad Day (hard to keep a straight face through that one), Bunsen Burner Day (their AP chemistry teacher was not amused), and nearly two hundred others so far. It had been a lot of work in some cases, but he'd treasured the effort and time they'd put in together in accomplishing it. Now, over halfway done, neither was willing to do anything but take it the distance.
He didn't mind that Amy was being evasive about today's holiday, though it was unusual for her not to say something up front. Secretive was not usually her thing. On top of that, she'd been in a slightly "off" mood since he'd picked her up that morning. She said she was fine when he'd asked, so he let it drop, but he knew her well enough to know something was weighing on her.
"See that post with the reflectors up ahead? That's our turn."
Pete wasn't sure there was even a turn where she'd pointed until they were almost upon it. A small, weed-choked gravel road split off the desolate country route and cut into the woods. It was blocked by a dilapidated gate, one that turned out to be unlocked when Amy hopped out to open and then close after he pulled his car through.
"Just where are we?"
"My grandma's property," she said, sitting upright now. "We went camping here a few times growing up, but there's not a whole lot out here. There's a cabin that's in such bad shape I wouldn't dare set foot inside any longer. Dad keeps talking about rebuilding it, but I'd be surprised if that happens before he retires, if ever."
"So, if something happens to us, no one will be able to find us aside from maybe your family?"
"Bad time to mention this is big foot country, then?"
Pete rolled his eyes. "Dork."
"You love it." She gave him a playful punch on the shoulder.
"Of course I do."
After a couple hundred yards of carefully navigating through the overgrown drive, they broke out of the woods into a flower-dotted meadow with an idyllic reed-lined pond in the middle. Not too far from the water was the derelict cabin, whose roof appeared to have collapsed. Dense woods surrounded the entire area and Pete had the impression from the drive in that there might not be another human being within a couple miles of this spot right now. There probably wasn't any running water, electricity, or plumbing, either.
It was scenic, he had to admit, and quiet. He was increasingly curious as to what had inspired Amy to bring him here.
"Just park over by the cabin," she said, that curious vibe to her returning in both voice and body language. "Should be plenty of room to get the car turned around."
Pete did as instructed. Closer, he could begin to make out how the area around the cabin had once likely been cleared and possibly mowed regularly. There was a deck on the cabin facing the pond and someone had once brought in a considerable amount of sand to create a small beach. Weeds were threatening to overtake it, but it wouldn't take too much effort for them to clear some space and have their own private beach. Had they ever become a couple, this would have made for a very romantic little spot.
"Well, this is it," she said as he turned off the car. "What do you think?"
"It's cool. Definitely could use some cleaning up, but yeah, I like it."
"Sorry it's so rustic, but I thought it would work."
"You gonna tell me what the holiday we're celebrating is now, then?"
Amy met his eyes for the briefest of moments and then looked away. Was she nervous? Her behavior was making him uncomfortable.
"How about we clear off the beach a little first," she said, opening her door. "Then I'll tell you."
Pete sighed and followed her out, stretching his legs and taking in a deep breath of the fresh air. It was hot, but there was a steady breeze that made it tolerable. Birds and insects provided the background music while puffy clouds slowly rolled by, marking the passage of time.
"No hints, even?"
