I swallowed, hoping my heart would drop back into place. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you.” He motioned between me and the small campfire.
“And you just knew to be waiting at this exact place at this exact time?”
“I spent the entire summer with you. If I couldn’t figure out where you’d want to be on your last night at camp, I wouldn’t have really gotten to know you, right?” His forehead creased when I stayed back on the trail instead of moving closer.
“But I thought you left. Ben said you were gone.”
“I did leave. I made it halfway home before turning back.”
Feeling finally returned to my legs. I took a few steps closer to the fire…and him. “Why’d you come back?”
He shifted and looked into the fire. I could see the small flames reflecting in his eyes. “Because I finally got it.” He crouched down next to his backpack and pulled something out.
“Finally got what?”
“Why you changed my test scores.” He held something up for me to see. It was a practice test—I’d taken enough to know what they looked like from a mile away. “It wasn’t to hurt me. It was to help me.”
“But I told you that at Patterson Ridge the day we got into that huge…you know.” I paused. “Yeah, I upped your scores to help you, but that doesn’t change that I went behind your back and lied about it.” I moved toward the campfire because it was cold and because I wanted to be as close to him as he’d let me. Up until two minutes ago, I’d been convinced I’d never see him again, and here he was, ten feet away and talking to me.
“But this is why you did it. Here’s the proof.” Callum tapped his finger at the top of the test, where I could just barely read the score circled at the top.
“A twelve hundred,” I read.
“And that’s the real score. Not the ‘enhanced’ version.” He turned the test around and stared at the score, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe it.
“You did it.” I smiled, crouching down by the fire across from him. “I knew you could.”
“Yeah, well, you were the only one who believed it.” He tipped his head back and looked up at the sky. There were so many stars out here the sky looked more light than dark. A slow smile formed. “I took this test at a rest stop on my way home. I needed to clear my head from thinking about this summer…us…” His eyes dropped to mine for a second. “You. I pulled this test out of my pack, camped out on a bench, and didn’t look up until I was done. When I graded it, I couldn’t believe the score. I double-checked. Then I triple-checked.” He pulled something else from his bag. Another test. “And then I took another test just in case the last one had been a fluke and I’d gotten lucky.”
I leaned in to read the score on that one. Eleven-eighty. “No fluke.”
He shook his head, his eyes flashing. “You weren’t just another someone treating me like I was going nowhere fast. You were one of the only people who looked at me and believed I could go anywhere I wanted.” He stood up and looked across the fire at me. “So you lied about my test scores.” His shoulder lifted. “You did it because you cared about me. Would you do the same thing again if you got a redo?”
I thought about that for a second. I didn’t have to think long. “No. I’ve learned my lesson.”
“See? That’s all that really matters.”
I felt my eyebrows come together; was he saying what I thought he was? Had he forgiven me? Gotten over me lying to him? “It is?”
“That’s all that really matters to me.” He paused, his throat bobbing when he swallowed. “And I’m hoping that will help you understand why I did what I did.”
“Why you didn’t tell me you were the one who’d taken me off the outdoor activities?”
Callum leaned over to grab a big stick and started prodding the fire. He nodded. “I should have told you about being in charge of the counselors’ schedules. I should have told you I was the one who’d scheduled you for craft duty and why I’d done it.” His eyes closed as he rubbed his forehead. “I told myself I could separate being the lead counselor from the boyfriend, and I thought I could, but it didn’t work.”
I watched the glowing embers float into the sky from the fire. I watched them until they burned out. “I get why you did it, though, you know? I probably would have done the exact same thing if I’d been in your position.” I held my hands toward the fire. It was just a small one, but it was keeping me warm. “You were responsible for the campers’ safety. I hadn’t exactly proven myself trustworthy in that department, so you did what you had to do. I might have been pissed when I found out, and maybe still am a little because you didn’t feel you could tell me, but I get why you did it.”
Callum looked into the fire, the skin between his brows drawn. He looked like he was trying to read something he couldn’t make out. “I am responsible for the campers’ safety. That’s true. But I’m responsible for the counselors’ safety, too, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I was extra concerned for yours. I did what I did because I needed you to earn some trust back, sure”—he exhaled as if he was confessing a crime—“but also because I let my overprotectiveness get in the way.”
He’d said a lot—he’d explained a lot—but it was what he said last that I latched on to. “You did what you did because you cared about me,” I said.
It wasn’t a question, but he answered it anyway. “Yeah.”
“Would you do it all over again if you got a redo?”
His head shook. “Hell no.”
I moved closer to the fire, but it was only because I wanted to be closer to him. We could have held our arms out and reached each other if it weren’t for the fire standing between us. “Then that’s all that really matters.”
“It is?”
“That’s all that really matters to me.” A smile twitched at the corners of my mouth.
“This coming from the girl who didn’t believe in second chances when it came to trust?” He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“From the very one.”
“You’ve come a long way.”
I eyed his pack. “So have you.”
For a minute, we were quiet. There was still probably a lot left to be said, but for now this felt like enough.
“I’m sorry, Phoenix.” He shifted his weight onto one foot, staring at the fire. “I’m sorry I walked away from you that day and avoided you the past two weeks and left without saying good-bye. I’m sorry it took me getting to the California state line to figure it out.” He started moving around the fire, coming toward me. A smile looked like it was pulling at his mouth. “In case you didn’t notice, I’m a slow learner.”
“And I’m sorry I accused you of lying to me before hearing your side of the story first.”
He didn’t stop moving closer until he was standing right in front of me. He didn’t stop there. His hand found mine. Heat fired up my arm from his touch, spreading to my fingertips. His thumb skimmed my knuckles. “And I shouldn’t have sucker punched you about trust issues.”
I still felt like I was trying to swallow my heart, but now a few other vital organs were misbehaving after his confession. Like my lungs. And brain.
Our fingers tangled together tighter. I’d missed the roughness of his palms, the softness between his fingers, the strength I could feel in him every time his hand was holding mine.
“You know what?” I started. “Maybe that’s what makes us kinda great—not being afraid to call each other out on our shit.”
The corners of his eyes lined like he was considering that. “You are definitely not afraid to call me out on my shit.”
“And you are definitely not afraid to call me out on mine.” When we laughed, it echoed across the lake.
Then his expression changed. He tugged me closer. “We’re great in other ways, too, you know?”
“Like?” I was breathing so hard my chest was bumping into his with every breath I took.
His eyes dro
pped to my mouth. “I’d tell you, but I’d rather show you.” His hand slipped inside the flannel shirt, winding around my waist until it pressed into my lower back. When he slid a bit closer, so our bodies were touching from our chest to our feet, my mouth parted.
I wasn’t sure if I had kissed him or he had kissed me, but it didn’t matter how we’d gotten here—what mattered was that we’d made it.
We kissed like we had two weeks to make up for. We kissed like we might have a lifetime to make up for. My hand stayed locked with his; the other skimmed up his chest before capping over his shoulder. This kind of kissing required a solid grip, because, damn, I felt like my knees were about to fail.
When he pulled back, he was breathing hard. Harder than I was, even. I tried pulling him back to me, but he braced in place and raised his hand. He kept it raised as he moved around the side of the campfire. I followed him. He stopped and reached down to grab a stick. Holding it up, he lifted a brow at me and cleared his throat.
His eyes locked on mine as he dropped the stick into the fire. It caught instantly. “I trust you, too.”
I watched the rest of the stick catch fire. Just like I’d watched mine. “You were there.”
“To witness you profess your trust in me in front of everyone?” He looked up at me and smiled. “I wouldn’t have missed it.”
He’d been there. I should have known. I should have felt something. Maybe I’d been a little distracted by all the eyes gaping up at me, though.
“I believe the word I used was love.”
Callum sat down on the beach and patted the space in front of him. I didn’t have to wait for him to pat twice. “Yeah, but they’re the same thing, trust and love, right?” He bent his knees and fitted me in between his legs before winding his arms around me. His chin tucked over my shoulder as we stared at the lake.
“Where did you ever hear that?” I didn’t try to hide my smile—would have been pointless.
I felt his shoulders rise behind me. “From this crazy girl I went and fell in love with.”
My heart stalled hearing that. When his lips pressed into my temple and didn’t move, my eyes closed. Everything about this felt so right. Everything about us felt so right. Why hadn’t we figured it out sooner?
“You’re going home tomorrow, Callum. I’m going…” I wasn’t ready to call it home—maybe I never would be. “Wherever I’m going. What’s going to happen?”
He didn’t answer right away, but just kept his arms around me until our chests were rising and falling together. I started the summer thinking I wanted the world. I was finishing it wanting him. I wasn’t sure I could have either.
“I don’t know.” It was so quiet his voice echoed across the lake. “But I do know I love you and that we’ve got tonight. Let’s worry about tomorrow tomorrow.”
I twisted around until I was facing him. I slipped my legs over his and wrapped them around his back. “And worry about tonight tonight?”
His hand curved into my back and pressed me closer. “Do I look worried?”
What I was certain would be the worst summer of my life had turned out to be the greatest. We’d left camp weeks ago, but I knew it was a place I’d never really leave behind. It would stay with me.
Today I was doing a different kind of camping—the kind that involved parking it on the front porch, tapping my feet, waiting for a certain someone who was going to be late if he didn’t show up in the next sixty seconds.
My smile started to form when I heard the familiar sputter of his motorcycle come around the corner. Callum was never late picking me up. Despite the commute and the traffic, he was always on time.
Before I could stand, the drawing on the toe of my sneaker caught my attention. Callum had sketched it with a big black Sharpie on our last date two weeks ago.
He’d written our names and drawn a bird beneath each name. Mine was supposed to be a phoenix—and his like a dove, but in the end, they looked the same. You couldn’t tell the difference.
He was a bird. I was a bird. I guess it didn’t really matter what kind we were. What mattered was that we could both fly. What mattered was that we both already had.
He’d barely rolled to a stop before I started charging down the walkway toward him. We only got to see each other every two weeks, so each second counted.
“You,” he said, his arm winding around my waist.
“You,” I echoed, letting him pull me close.
“What do you want to do?” Callum’s arm tightened just enough as my legs pressed up against his.
I didn’t stop there. Pivoting, I swung my leg over the motorcycle and sat down so I was facing him and my back was to the handlebars. I was more on his lap than the actual seat, though. Nice planning on my part.
Callum’s eyes widened before he looked in the direction of the garage and front porch. My parents might have liked Callum, but he was still their teenage daughter’s boyfriend, and that automatically made him suspect. The last time my dad had caught us making out, he’d cleared his throat and scooted his way in between us on the couch. Mortifying.
“Dad’s at work. Mom’s gardening. Harry’s at Spencer’s. We’re good.”
Callum’s hand dropped around my back, and he inched me closer. Now I was pretty much just all on his lap. “Convenient.”
“So convenient,” I said, my stomach fluttering.
“Really, what are we doing today?” He cleared his throat when my hands capped over his shoulders and I wiggled just a teeny bit closer.
I lifted an eyebrow.
He swallowed and looked away, but his fingers curled into my back. “Besides that?”
“Besides that, I don’t care. I’d be fine with only that.”
Callum chuckled, shaking his head. “Didn’t you have a cross-country meet last night? Didn’t you log seventy miles this week? Where do you get your stamina?”
“I guess you really just bring it out in me.”
He gritted his teeth and hung his head back, like I was torturing him. “Congratulations, by the way. Another first-place ribbon to add to the collection.”
“Thank you, thank you.” I did a mini bow. “Who knew a school called Jefferson High would have a decent cross-country team?”
“Who knew?” He was teasing me. I let him because, as much as I’d worried, everything was working out. The new school wasn’t too bad, and I’d made a few friends from the cross-country team, plus I still kept in touch with some of my old friends. The new house was small but clean and kind of charming, and Harry was loving his new school. Not only was it keeping up with him in the brains department, but he’d also made some friends, which he hadn’t managed at the last school. Dad had found a job, and even though I knew it didn’t come with any of the same reputation and pay as his last one, he seemed happy with it. Content for now.
Mom had even found a job as a receptionist at a dermatologist’s office. I think she liked getting out of the house and contributing in that way. Plus she said the free skin-care samples were an added bonus.
Everything was good. Against the odds, we’d come out all right. Maybe we always had been. Maybe we always would be. Maybe it was more a matter of perspective than the actual reality of a situation.
“By the way, she’ll kill me if I forget. My mom says hello,” Callum said.
“Tell her I say hello back. And that she’s welcome.”
He shook his head. “Never going to let me live it down.”
“Go figure. Your mom, you know, the person who gave birth to you and wants the very best for you, actually is supportive of you going to college. Who in the world would have thought it?”
“Done yet?”
I tapped my temple a few times. “Just want to relive that moment of her actually crying when she found that stack of college applications on your desk. Such a good memory.”
“Unbelievable. You really won’t ever let this go, will you?” He waved his hand in front of my face while I continued to replay the memory. “She wan
ts to know when she’ll see you next.”
Callum’s mom was awesome. For the overprotective mom of the guy I was dating, anyway. I’d only been to her house a couple of times, but she always made sure I knew I was welcome anytime.
“Since I kind of have a serious thing for her son, probably a lot.”
Callum smiled. “That would be a lot of highway time.”
“Yeah, but now that I have my own set of wheels, you don’t have to be the only one who drives to me on our weekends.” I nodded at the driveway, where a two-decade-old, mostly gray Honda was sitting. She had so many miles on her she shouldn’t have still been running, and the interior was as beat up as the outside, but she was mine. I’d earned her, and she got me from point A to point B every time. I wouldn’t have traded her for the flashiest, most expensive car in the world.
“That’s one hell of a nice vehicle, but she’s lacking something mine has.”
I glanced from my car to his motorcycle. Not even. “What?”
Callum’s hands pressed me closer. His lap shifted below mine, which did nothing to help relax the muscles balled up in my stomach. “The space and freedom to do this.” He shifted below me again, his smile going crooked when a little breath slipped past my lips.
“Fair warning.” My voice sounded off—I didn’t have to wonder why. “You do that again, and I will not be able to control myself from what happens next.”
“Sounds like our day’s all planned out.” He clucked his tongue and reached down into his backpack again. “But first, a present…” He pulled something shiny and big from his bag and held it in between us.
“A helmet?” My head tipped.
“Not just any helmet. Your very own helmet, you know, so you don’t have to slip on my old, crusty one. You can crustify it all by yourself.” He tapped the matte-black helmet he had on before lifting the new one out for me.
Okay, so some guys might have brought their girlfriends flowers or truffles, but flowers died and truffles got eaten. This was the kind of gift that lasted.
“I know you can take care of yourself and everything, but I’ve got to at least do my part.” He turned it around in his hands, and that was when I noticed that something had been painted onto the shiny black surface.
Trusting You and Other Lies Page 25