Stesha spun around in the front passenger seat to inform us, “What we’re going to visit is a temple, but as soon as you see Sacsayhuamán, you’ll understand why the Spanish mistook it for a fortress. It’s very well fortified.”
Just like me. I stared pointedly out the window, pretending that Quattro’s “Sounds cool, huh?” was intended for his dad, who was sitting on his other side and checking his phone.
Not soon enough, Stesha hustled us off the van for a mini-excursion to our first real Incan ruin, rescuing me from a conversation I didn’t want to have with a boy I didn’t want to know. As much as I tried paying rapt attention to Stesha’s history lesson, I was all too aware of Quattro walking a half pace behind me toward the mammoth stone ruins. Self-consciously, I tucked my hair behind my ear until I remembered reading in one of Mom’s love guru books that women toy with their hair as a primal way of displaying good health to a potential mate. My hand couldn’t have dropped from my hair faster if it was infested with head lice.
Needing a distraction, I held on to my camera and focused on the site. The scale of these ruins was nothing short of awe inspiring. Enormous walls ran the length of two football fields, cutting tiers into the hill. Many of the boulders were easily five times as tall as Dad. Some, Stesha informed us, weighed more than an entire airplane. And to this day, no one knows how the temple was constructed.
When everyone filed forward, I took the opportunity to frame the group against the ruins. As I did, Quattro slipped out of the shot to join me. Ignoring him, I zoomed in on a massive gray stone that had somehow been cut to fit around another large boulder like this was a jigsaw puzzle for giants. I was so awestruck, I wasn’t even aware that I marveled out loud after I lowered my camera: “How?”
Quattro answered, “How, what?”
“How on earth did they get these boulders here? I mean, really, how?”
“I read that the Spanish literally couldn’t believe that Indians could build anything like this. So they gave the credit to demons.”
“I read that some people actually think space aliens made this.”
Just like that, his answering grin could have placed us at the Gum Wall, at Oddfellows, halfway up the Andes—the location didn’t matter. That instant connection scared me more than the fluttering in my stomach. To regain my balance, I focused on the dirt path as though it were the most entrancing creation on the planet. Just when had Quattro’s smile become a special occasion that could warm me?
I needed to scare him off and fast. In my humble experience, I’ve found that a girl with serious brain wattage can intimidate a certain kind of guy. So watch me show off my superior knowledge.
“The Greeks thought stones this big could only be moved by Cyclops,” I said, then added for good measure, “Cyclopean architecture.” I gave silent thanks to Reb for sharing all things architectural ever since I’ve known her. Who knew that her ramblings would come in so handy one day?
“You’re the only person I know who’s ever used ‘Cyclopean’ in a conversation,” Quattro said. Unexpectedly, the expression on his face turned into something close to respect, the tone in his voice intrigued.
“You must not hang out with very interesting people.”
“That’s something I’m about to change.”
I flushed. What was I supposed to say to that? If anything, his easy response only confirmed what I thought: He was a player. And I wasn’t a girl who could be played with one day, discarded the next. Honestly, I should have walked away, but a part of me relished the company of a guy who could actually banter. Maybe—just maybe—we could be friends if enough boundaries were established. If I enforced the no-boy zone around my heart.
“Well, good luck with that.” I tested him with a practiced half smile, “I’m still on my Boy Moratorium.”
“That’s a relief.”
It was?
“I’m still on my Girl Moratorium.”
He was?
“Friends?” He held up his hand to fist-bump mine.
That’s it? Just friends?
A tiny smidge of disappointment poked its ugly head out of my asphalt-covered resolve to stay boy-free. And that betraying emotion was a pest that needed to be eradicated. Right now, this minute. Automatically, I returned the fist bump, then needing the safety of numbers, I strode toward the rest of my group. Their backs were turned to us as they listened to Stesha telling them, “Before we all know it, we’ll be finished with the Inca Trail, Machu Picchu, Cusco, Lima. So just how open are you to being changed in five days? Radically changed?”
In front of me, I overheard Hank mumble to Helen: “Remind me again why your mom gave this to us for an engagement present? And don’t tell me it was because of her trip with Stesha to Varanasi.”
“It was. India totally changed my parents,” Helen answered softly. “Radically changed?”
He barely muffled a snort.