ONE
Dusk crept across the Willamette Valley, the final dying embers of sunlight streaking across a navy blue sky. The mountain-tops darkened to jagged silhouettes, each pine tree a tooth in the gaping maw of the Cascade range. The cold came to Oregon early this year, a vicious biting chill that clawed at your face and ears, burned in your lungs. Desiccated yellow and brown leaves drifted lazily from trees shedding in the grasp of autumn, scattering over a rural road just off the highway. It was half a mile of dirt and gravel ending in a parking lot nestled in the shadow of Mt. Pisgah, overlooking the entrance to a withering and overgrown arboretum. In fair weather and daylight, it was a popular spot with several hiking trails. In the last hour before twilight though, in the frigid air, it was lonely and quiet. Three cars sat abandoned in the gravel lot, the stillness broken only by the forlorn howl of a swelling night wind, the skittering of dead, dry leaves.
Gravel and dirt crunched noisily together, ground beneath the soles of a tawny size seven boot. A lone and unimposing figure descended the mountain trail at a casual pace, dressed to survive the cold but still striking the youthful figure of femininity. Her hips swayed side to side as she walked, strong legs carrying her at a respectable pace. She was short, curvy and fit -- fleece lined black leggings hugged her figure, and a faint aroma of gardenia perfume permeated the air around her. Her small, pale hands trembled from the cold when she reached to pluck her wireless earbuds out from beneath the rim of her beanie.
The sounds of The Weeknd were gone, and the eerie gloom of night settled in its place. Shivering fingers found the frame of her phone and pulled it into her hands, turning it over in her palm. Big, brown, doe-like eyes studied her reflection in the black mirror. Her face was soft and blushing, slightly round in shape with prominent cheekbones and full heart shaped lips. Long chestnut curls tumbled mid-way down her back beneath a black knitted cap. Beautiful by anyone's standards, but understated by pragmatism. She sighed and unlocked her phone, then began to text.
"Hey, sorry, that test took longer than I thought." Hannah texted line by line, "Soon as I get out of here, I'm going to grab some food with my Mom then I'll be home." She added a few seconds later when no reply came. She didn't have to wait long.
"Hey bb." Marcel's name was stamped at the top of the texts. He texted back-to-back with no time or syllables to spare,
"Ok."
"What test?"
"Oh ya the lab"
"W8 U did that last weekend lol"
"Ok bb"
"Bring home a taco would u thx luv u lol" His rapid-fired SMS onslaught concluded with myriad unrelated emojis.
Hannah didn't even get a chance to respond before her boyfriend closed out the conversation. It was enough to draw a roll of her eyes, a groan of exasperation. But she couldn't be too irate as, of course, there was no test, and there was no dinner date with Mom. She didn't know why she lied like this, except that she knew she lived a lie herself. Marcel seemed like the one. Hannah thought he was the man of her dreams, or she did once... but why couldn't she hold onto that feeling? The conversations between them were becoming sparse and mundane. They had nothing in common, not really. Their sex life was boring. Two people being nice was not enough reason to be together, and Hannah knew it. So she lied, stole a little more time away. Deception bleeds, and before you know it, a bruise blackened your heart and clawed tiny holes in the bastion of your compassion. She didn't love him any more, and every time she said it back she told another lie. So she left him on read, as she often did. And Marcel didn't care, as he never did.
Hannah stowed her phone into her coat pocket and retrieved in its place a set of keys, unremarkable except for the tiny brown plastic teddy bear dangling off the chain. She clicked the unlock button on her key fob, but nothing happened. Too far, she thought. She clicked it over and over, but no matter how close Hannah got -- no blinking lights. She stopped in front of her compact blue sedan, distressed to find the door still locked. "Oh, god..." Hannah groaned with anxiety as she wrestled the old-fashioned key into the lock and pulled the door open. She tried to turn the engine over, but only got a series of clicks. Hannah's heart sank and she fell back into the driver's seat of her cold, useless car with a frustrated whimper, pulling the door closed to ward off the chill a little longer.
A few minutes later, with a complete lack of options, the white glow of Hannah's phone beamed up at her. The inane and deceitful conversation between Marcel and herself stared her in the face, reminding her why she shouldn't - why she couldn't - text him to come pick her up. What's more, Marcel was undoubtedly the type of partner that would have a laugh at her expense around his friends. Hannah sighed; she only just moved here for her first year of college, but already she missed having friends of her own. Her phone battery was low, so a decision had to be made. But that just reminded her that a bigger decision had to be made. She huffed with annoyance and clicked the phone back off - for now.
Cold fingers reached into the center console of her car and retrieved a small wooden travel pipe and miniature lighter stowed inside. Hannah had always considered weed was the possible conclusion to her evening hike, a little indica hybrid to make a night with Marcel and his dumb Marvel movie references more palatable. Hannah swung the top back and exposed the pre-packed bowl, scorched the finely ground green leaf with her lighter and took a long drag, holding until her lungs burned. She exhaled in a fit of coughs as smoky apparitions drifted around her head, floating through the car interior like a mist. Relaxation struck her muscles, euphoria emboldened her spirits and simultaneously made Marcel's stupid taco request sound kind of tasty. One little hit was all the courage Hannah needed, and she lifted her phone to text Marcel once more.
"Hey Babe I--" Thok-thok-thok! A series of knocks suddenly interrupted Hannah's text, jolting her upright to see a large fist withdrawing from her window. Hannah immediately assumed she was in some kind of trouble, since the cannabis smoke lingered like a halo around her head clear as day. She reacted hastily and tucked her phone down into her pocket, then slid her pipe and lighter into the center console. The laws were still a little hazy on weed, even in Oregon, everyone was still a little paranoid about it. Hannah looked out the window but she didn't see black uniforms and flashlights - just a couple of friendly-looking faces and an utterly adorable puppy. Two men stood several feet away, the shorter of them offering a friendly wave.
Side by side, one man towered over the other. Both looked to be in their mid thirties. It was easy to guess the large man's name; it was embroidered on his black work jacket: Logan. He was burly, built like a huge goddamn spool of gyro meat. Broad-shouldered and barrel-chested, he dressed in a simple olive green henley shirt beneath his jacket, and gray denim pants over black boots. A black beanie covered his head, his hands were tucked away into his pockets. He had kind hazel eyes with crow's feet around them when he smiled, as he was now. His eyebrows and thick black beard had gone a little wild, lending him a very rugged and masculine look.
Beside the big, brawny bastard stood his shorter, leaner and charming looking friend. Messy brown hair sticking out from under a beat-up grey cap, sharp and strong features, jaw covered with a light stubble. Soft blue eyes peered out from beneath a prominent brow ridge, his cheeks dimpling with a disarming smile. He wore mud-colored hiking boots and blue denim, and one hand remained tucked into his thick, brown leather jacket while the other waved at Hannah inside her car. Dancing between his feet was an energetic puppy, wagging its tail and happily jumping towards the man's knee caps. Sleek, black and shining like a new toy, those tiny barks alone would have been enough to make Hannah open the door, and so she did.
"Hey!" Hannah greeted the men cheerfully as she climbed out of the driver's seat, quickly closing the car door behind her before any more of that weed scent followed her. "Hi!" She added excitedly with her gaze shooting down to that little wiggly black puppy.
"Oh hey darlin', sorry if we startled you -- this little fella yours?" asked the smaller man, his waving hand dropping down towards his knees to push down the yapping puppy. It carried on panting and barking, climbing his legs and nipping at his fingers.
"No...?" answered Hannah, confused in tone and expression.
"You mean he's not yours?"
"Nope." the lean man answered while wresting control of the pup, a struggle as the playful beast fought back suspiciously without a collar. He took to a kneeling position, hand pressed down over the puppy's neck to pin him to the ground. He reached up with his other hand by way of introduction, flashing that dimpled and disarming smile once more.
"Name's Chris." He offered.
"Hannah." She answered and shook his hand.
