Jordan lifts his head and looks up at me. He’s kneeling on the ground, tightening the buckles on the hiking backpack he found for me. “We’ll check for blisters when we hit three miles. Did you get the right size and are you wearing liner socks?” “Yes and yes.” He stands up and straps his own backpack on again and points down the trail. I can’t say this journey so far has been completely relaxed—both of us are acting more polite than normal—but it hasn’t been as awkward as I’d imagined, considering the tension between us over the last couple weeks. And even though I’m a girl on a mission right now (as Stevie reminded me about twenty times before Jordan and I took off this morning), I can’t help but enjoy the distance from the gym and the wide open space. I totally need this. “How many miles is this trail again?” I ask. If we’re checking my feet at three miles, we must be going at least twice that, right? “Eight,” Jordan says, flashing me a smile. “Think you can handle it?”
