When she didn’t answer, I tried to tilt my head to force her to meet my gaze.

“Hey, I’m sorry about our conversation on the hike up. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that.”

“It’s fine,” she said in a voice that assured me it was anything except fine.

“You can help me think of some goals if you want.” I kept my voice light, hoping to tempt her.

“No, it’s stupid.”

As ridiculous as I’d always thought all that goal-talk was, hearing her say those words nearly broke me.

“No, really. I want to hear your thoughts.”

She picked at her cuticles, and just when I thought I’d have to resort to straight-up begging to get her to talk to me again, she relented. “You asked me earlier why I’m so obsessed. It feels pathetic to admit, but I honestly don’t know. It’s always been engrained in me that that’s the way life goes. You work hard, get an education, get a good job, and life falls into place. I never even stopped to question it before.”

My heart cracked.

“All I’ve done is question the conventional path. It’s not like my life is amazing either,” I said, trying to commiserate with her.

“What are you talking about? You’re, like, the happiest person I’ve ever met.”

Was I? I knew that’s what was expected of me. I knew that’s how I came across. But was I truly happy?

I thought I was. But then, seeing my brother get married, my best friend move in with his girlfriend, and watching my relationship with my mother become more strained—what did I really have at the end of the day? Myself. The outdoors. Sure, it was invigorating. I loved the constant adventure.

But happy…

What a strange word when you thought too much about it—something I rarely did. But lately, searching in Frankie’s eyes had me questioning more about myself than I ever had before.

The clink of her coffee mug against the table had me refocusing on her.

“You are happy right?” she asked.

“Next question,” I muttered.

She looked up at the ceiling in exasperation. “You can’t always do that, you know? Change the subject any time I try to ask you a personal question.”

“Do I?” I smiled and tilted my head, pretending I didn’t know exactly what she meant. It was a side of me few people noticed, mainly because I didn’t let many get close enough to see it.

“You know you do.” She waved a finger at me. “Careful or I’ll stop asking them altogether.”

My pulse quickened. The idea should bring me comfort, but it didn’t. I didn’t know what I wanted, but Frankie giving up on me in even the smallest capacity wasn’t it.

I laced my fingers behind my head and leaned back in my chair, attempting to gather myself. “So, about my goals.”

“Forget it,” she said.

I pouted. “But I was really looking forward to my fifty-year plan.”

That finally got her lips to turn up. “Wow, I know you’re desperate to change the subject if I’ve got you begging to talk about plans.”