Tyler chuckled, finishing his waffle. He paid, and we walked downtown, stopping into various shops. It was strange to see something I liked and not buy it. I found myself looking at price tags for the first time, and once, when I came across an exceptionally soft black turtleneck, calculating my bank balance and upcoming bills in my head to see if I had the extra cash to spend. I didn’t.

I walked around the store, peeking at Tyler through the shelving. He had a few items in his hands, so I waited for him to check out, and then we popped into a candy store. We spent the day walking around, talking about the crew, a lot of playful bickering, trading family stories, and trying to one-up each other on what shocking illegal activities we’d participated in.

I won.

The day wore away, and as the sun ducked behind the green mountaintops, I felt myself already mourning The Day Tyler and I Did Nothing. Wandering aimlessly in downtown Estes was one of my best days.

After a light dinner, Tyler and I walked down the block toward a familiar alley. He casually reached for my hand, at first swinging our arms, and then gently squeezing my fingers when he realized I wasn’t going to pull away. He was wearing jeans, black boots, and a short-sleeved white T-shirt with something about a motorcycle in black ink. It went well the tattoos covering his arms, and I smiled when I thought about the reaction my parents would have if they saw us.

“What do you think? Want to share a Shirley Temple?”

“I thought you said you were tired of the bar scene.”

“We don’t have to go. I don’t want to encourage old habits.”

I pulled my hand away. “I’m not an alcoholic, Tyler. I can be around liquor without drinking.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You don’t believe me.”

“I didn’t say that, either.”

I squeezed his hand, tugging him forward. He resisted for the first few steps, and then gave in. A woman pushed through the door, her heels clicking down the concrete the same way we’d come. Her ankle rolled, and she nearly fell but regained her balance, grumbling curse words until she turned the corner.

Tyler pulled back as I reached for the door with my free hand. I stumbled backward, leaning against him before pushing him away.

“I was kidding, Ellie,” Tyler blurted out. “I don’t think we should go in there. We can find something else to do.”

“At ten o’clock in this town? We go in here, or we go back to headquarters,” I said, pointing at the door. Its chipped black paint was the perfect prologue to what awaited us inside.