Him or Me

by Veronica Larsen

  I try to put Heath's kiss out of my mind. The two of us don't make eye contact but still manage to drink and laugh with the others. We all feed the fire to keep it going well into the night, poking fun at one another and coming to each other's defense. Out here in the wilderness, we've all but forgotten the noises and distractions of the city. We're stripped bare, with only each other's company to pass the time, and there's no denying how well we all gel together. My heart is full and for a moment, I'm actually glad William isn't here. I'm overcome with the sense of being exactly where I want to be, comfortable in my own skin, alone with my friends.

  Delilah borrows Heath's Insta-napper prototype and takes a short nap on her folding chair as the rest of us fall back into conversation. When she wakes up, she announces the nap was the best she's ever had, and tells a proud looking Heath how she wants to sell it at her studio and recommend it to all her clients. It warms my heart to see her supporting him so much, especially since the two are constantly arguing over every damn thing under the sun. But not the Insta-napper.

  The Insta-napper brings people together.

  With the topic of his snakebite long forgotten, Heath's smile is big as he pokes fun at the loafers his brother decided to wear. As he talks, he rubs his chest over the words Sex, Drugs, and Sausage Rolls. His posture relaxed as he sits with an arm hanging over the back of the chair, his injured foot resting just off the edge of the opposite leg. Even his dimples can't hide the mischief in the expression on his handsome face. His eyes are such a bright blue, they glow even in the middle of the night. And I'm struck, all at once, by how different he is from my poker-faced boyfriend.

  Heath's gaze drags to mine and I falter, realizing too late I've been staring at him this entire time. I give him a nervous smile. He holds my gaze, eyes narrowing slightly before he mouths the words, you okay?

  I nod and look down at the cup in my hand, deciding then to take a sip.

  I was wrong when I thought something changed between us. It's not something. It's everything. The seed of a thought William planted grew into a shift in perspective.

  And Heath's kiss? It was just good enough to make everything between us fall apart.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Heath

  MY FIRST TIME WAKING up in the woods is an interesting experience. The moment the sun is in position, its rays infiltrate the tent's dark orange material and the whole damn thing glows like a light bulb. Even if I could somehow ignore this, every creature in the forest chirps and croaks and flutters past my tent until I have no choice but to roll out of my sleeping bag.

  I unzip the tent and step out into the obnoxiously bright morning.

  "It's not really camping if you have a portable stove," Delilah says to Jackson.

  The words hit me before the smell does. Sausages cook on a small electric stove. My gaze follows the cord to where it ends.

  "You brought a generator?" I ask my brother.

  "Yeah, how else was I supposed to charge my phone?"

  "It's ridiculous." Delilah shakes her head and throws a few logs into the fire pit.

  "Completely ridiculous," Samantha agrees, but she sticks out her disposable plate to receive the food Jackson cooked for her. He sets sausages beside the pair of pancakes on her plate. And that's when I see the other plate on the small camp picnic table, a high stack of pancakes waiting to be served.

  I walk over to my brother and hug him from behind. "I love you, man."

  He pries me off him and points to a chair, silently instructing me to sit down. By the time Grace emerges from her tent, I've nearly polished off my plate, but am still chewing a mouthful.

  Her blonde wavy hair is cascading over one of her shoulders. She wears those blessed yoga pants and a form-fitting t-shirt with a picture of The Backstreet Boys on it. Never thought I'd care about a group of dudes dressed in matching outfits, but it turns out I do care. Because their image is stretched out across her glorious breasts.

  She squints in our direction, her face slightly puffy from sleep, giving her a young, doe-eyed look.

  Fuck.

  She's so beautiful it hurts.

  When she finally locks eyes with me, I realize I'm a caveman, ogling her as I chew.

  "Morning," I mumble through a mouthful of sausages.

  "Hey," she says, voice groggy.

  She sits beside me, but I don't miss the hint of hesitation or that it's the only open chair.

  She's been different since last night. I know she's thinking about the kiss. I'm thinking about it, too.

  Maybe it was a mistake to spring it on her the way I did, but if given the chance I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

  I know she feels guilty. She has nothing to feel guilty about. She stopped it almost as soon as it started and she's kept her distance ever since. I don't like it, but I know it's what she has to do.

  As the rest of us finish our breakfast, Samantha and Delilah take turns interrupting each other as they tell a story from their childhood. I stare right at them and somehow still can't figure out what the hell they are talking about.

  Jackson eats it up, though. And Grace? She hasn't looked at me once since she sat down.

  "Heath?" Delilah calls from somewhere behind me. "Can I borrow the Insta-napper again? I want—"

  Her words fall away. I turn to make sure she's all right and find her staring past me with her mouth still parted.

  I follow her gaze and my jaw clenches tight. Grace notices what I see and the same words escape both of us at the same time.

  "What the…?"

  William approaches our camp from the direction of the road, his eyes on Grace, hands in his pockets.

  Grace's face drains of humor and she stands up.

  I brace for trouble, getting on my feet beside her.

  Everyone in the group goes quiet.

  "Morning," he says, to no one in particular.

  "Hey, man," Jackson replies.

  I remain quiet, Samantha just looks confused, and Delilah asks the question that pops up in my mind, "Ummm, How did you find us?"

  But William doesn't answer her. He comes right up to Grace, sets a hand on the small of her back, and whispers something I can't hear.

  Grace stiffens and her gaze darts in my direction before darting away again.

  "Uh, sure," she says, responding to whatever he whispered.

  "No, really, how'd you find us?" Delilah asks.

  I set my jaw, my hands wanting to curl into fists, as I watch him lead her off toward the trail. The same path she and I walked yesterday. Fucking hell. What a reminder she's not mine. Not mine to touch, not mine to have. Not mine to feel this shot of anger at seeing his hands on her.

  I tear my eyes away from the spot where they disappear into the treeline.

  Jackson gives me an empathetic shake of the head. And that simple move says it all.

  Sorry, man, sorry you don't get to have the girl you want, like I do.

  "He didn't answer my question," Delilah mumbles. "Is no one else concerned with how he just found us? In the middle of the woods?"

  Samantha waves her sister's words away. "She probably told him our lot number, Delilah. Sixty-nine, it's easy to remember."

  "Easy, indeed," Jackson agrees.

  "Sure, okay," Delilah says, staring off in the direction they left. She adds in an undertone, "If no one else thinks it's creepy…"

  I sit back down, my breakfast a brick in my stomach. Delilah sits beside me. I ignore her at first, but after a few minutes of me staring off into the distance, it's clear she's watching me and waiting for me to acknowledge her.

  Finally, I turn to meet her large hazel eyes.

  "I know what you're thinking," she whispers, lips turning down.

  "I doubt it."

  Samantha tries to fill the silence, tries to make small talk and joke around with Jackson, with me. But when it's obvious I'm not in the mood, she falls quiet. And in that silence, I realize every single one of them knows how I feel about Grace.

&nbs
p; With every minute that passes, more and more thoughts turn over in my head. The things William must be saying to her. The promises he must be making. The whole world of shit he can offer her that I never could.

  I get back to my feet to head into my tent, but before I can move, Grace and William reemerge. She walks toward us. William hangs back, holding up a hand.

  "Good seeing you guys, but I've got to head back to the city."

  Everyone around me mumbles vague, polite phrases. He heads off without so much as a backward glance, his body language making me suspect things went the way he'd hoped. My mood deflates like a balloon losing all its helium.

  Grace looks more confused than ever.

  "What happened?" Samantha asks, rushing forward. She wraps her arm around her friend and whisks her into a tent to talk. Jackson sits across from me, arms crossed over his chest.

  "Fuck this," I say, "she can't marry that douche."

  "It's just a ring. It doesn't mean anything yet. And she doesn't look happy about it."

  Jackson's words fall on deaf ears.

  Fight or flight instinct floods my veins, and I'm no longer concerned with being a good friend, or straddling the line between respecting Grace's wishes and wrestling with my own. I've had enough of this shit. All or nothing, I'm going in.

  Delilah grabs my arm before I can take another step in the direction of the tents. "Wait, what are you going to say?"

  I shrug her off. "I don't know. I'll say, 'hey, you can't marry that guy, he's a douche.' I think that sums it up."

  "No, no, no." Delilah's hand comes up to her face in a soft slap, like she's just now realizing something. "Heath, you're emotionally stupid."

  "Come again?" I look at her and then at Jackson, who shrugs then nods like she makes a good point.

  "You," Delilah places a hand on my chest, speaking slowly, "are emotionally stupid. You think you can just barge into her space and disrupt her already sensitive energy by beating your chest and chanting, I am man. You woman. You choose. Him or me."

  "Well...Yeah?"

  The hand on my chest turns into a finger in my face. "I won't let you ruin this. I've waited a long time."

  I tilt my head a notch. "Come again? You've waited a long time for what, exactly?"

  I look at Jackson again. He's got an eyebrow raised, lips pressed together in a simple line, but amusement brims his eyes. He's enjoying this and it's clear he has no intention of stepping in to get Delilah away from me if this takes a turn into weirder territory.

  "Waiting for you to pull your head out of your ass, and go get our girl," Delilah says.

  "What am I supposed to do then? To get our girl?"

  She relaxes her posture and smiles as if she thought I'd never ask. "You need to visualize it first." She shuts her eyes like she already has a movie playing inside her mind. "You need to create it all in your head—what you'll say, what you'll do, how she'll react. It needs to be special and romantic, and it needs to sweep her off her feet."

  She lost me at special.

  "I'm not romantic. I'm not Mr. Suave over there. I don't just go out for a run and come back slinging soaking wet women. I don't know how to sweep a woman off her feet metaphorically—physically, yes. You can use your vehicle for that. Or a gurney, but—"

  "Quiet your mind." Delilah sets a finger to my lips and I resist the urge to swat her hand away. When I fall silent, she hooks an arm through mine and leads me back to our seats. "We'll figure out a plan, Heath. Together."

  CHAPTER SIX

  Grace

  "MS. GRACE, YOUR HAIR looks very, very messy today," a nasally voice informs me.

  I turn to face the class.

  "Thanks, Caleb, I had no idea."

  A dozen bright little faces stare back at me, and though at their age they shouldn't be able to notice when an adult is struggling to give a fuck, nothing gets past these kids. The pants I'm wearing resemble dress slacks, if no one looks close enough to realize they have an elastic waistband. My button-down shirt could save the day, except it's wrinkled. My hair, as Caleb so nicely pointed out, is pulled into a haphazard bun at the back of my head. Adulting felt like an impossible task this morning when I rolled out of bed.

  My roommates and I drove in from the park last night. The girls and I chose to ride in one car, while Heath and Jackson drove home in another. The guys apparently made it home within an hour and a half, narrowly missing a huge traffic jam caused by an accident. But the rest of us? We got stuck in the traffic after agreeing to let Delilah take the scenic route back. I didn't think much harm could come out of giving her an extra few minutes to admire the forest. But now, here I am, my bones aching from the late night that turned into a sleepless one. My conscience weighs with the decision I've made and the ring in my possession which feels like an undetonated explosive.

  I'm in a haze all day, distracted and slow. So, when my boss calls me in for an unexpected meeting after lunch, I start to consider what my options will be after the inevitable you're fired speech. But Lorelyn doesn't fire me. She sits behind her giant desk and asks me vague questions about my day and curriculum, all of which seem to be both beating around the bush and trying to reach a point. The meeting is pointless, and when she allows me to return to my classroom, a whole fifteen minutes later, the teacher's aide who covered my classroom while I was gone looks alarmed to see me. I'm still not sure if I was fired or not.

  "Sorry about that," I tell the kids, as I stroll straight toward my desk. The silence I'm greeted with doesn't register until I look up and something startles the hell out of me.

  "Holy shit," I blurt out, a hand flying to my chest.

  "You cursed!" Caleb cries out and the group of kids erupts into a snickering fit.

  Only the newest addition to my classroom remains quiet. His large and imposing presence overflows the tiny chair he sits in, arms crossed and blue eyes smiling up at me with mischief.

  I signal for the kids to turn down their volume level. "Okay, okay, that's enough. Settle down."

  "Look! Did you see? Did you see the man?" Sofia asks, pointing at Heath with both hands.

  "Yes, I saw." I narrow my eyes at Heath then hook a finger at him. Wanting to know why he's here, disrupting my class. "Can I talk to you outside?"

  He gets up from the chair but turns his back to me to face the kids. "Go," he whispers. "Just like we practiced."

  There's a scramble of chairs as the kids get up and move to the back of the room with surprising efficiency, considering it's usually like herding cats for me to get them to do anything so quickly.

  "Heath, what is going on?"

  He holds up a finger at the kids then comes up to me, turning me until my back is toward the group and I can only hear their hushed but squeaky tones as they mumble to each other.

  Heath places a finger under my chin, guiding my head until our eyes connect.

  "I've got something important to tell you," he says, before clearing his throat. "I know you've got a life-altering decision to make soon, and I didn't want to get in the way. Because, hell if I know what's going through your head—"

  "Oooh, he said hell," Caleb calls from the back of the class.

  Heath ignores him, but lowers his voice further and seems more distracted as he continues. "I think you're so beautiful. Even when your eyebrows are practically missing and your hair looks like it's hiding terrifying secrets—" Cutting off, he shuts his eyes for a moment like he regrets his words. He starts feeling around in his pockets. "Crap, hang on. I wrote it down so I wouldn't screw it up like this…"

  I can hear the kids growing restless behind me but I'm rooted to the spot, unable to move, barely able to breathe. All I can do is stare at Heath as he searches his pockets.

  "Here it is," he says, and I nearly faint until I see what he pulls out is a folded piece of paper. He unfolds it and scans it, nodding at the words as he reads them. "Okay, yeah, yeah." He folds it back, stuffs it into his pocket, and locks eyes with me again. "Forget the eyebrow part. And
the hair. That stuff wasn't on there. What I wanted to say is you're beautiful to me, all of the time. When we're not together, I think about you all of the time. I used to think it would be selfish for me to tell you this and ruin the relationship you have with William. But now, I think the selfish thing would be to keep quiet just because I'm scared of losing you." His hands are on my arms, holding me steady like he knows my head is spinning. "And all I know is you can't make the decision until you have all the facts. I know I don't have much money and all I've really contributed to society is a soon to be distributed napping device. But I'm really, really into you, Grace. I may not have a ring for you, I may not be full of promises, or own a single Yorkshire Terrier, but I'm putting my hat in the ring, anyway. I need you to know, I want to be with you. So, here you go, Grace—"

  He turns me around to face the kids, and when he signals to them, they hold up two signs which make up a short phrase.

  Me Choose

  I look at Heath, confused. He gestures in a circular motion at the kids, shaking his head. They take a few seconds to understand, and then they switch places until the signs read:

  Choose Me

  He looks at me, gently moving my hand down from where it covers my mouth as I hold back a nervous chuckle.

  "Say something. This is the part where you say something."

  The exhaustion I felt all day begins to dissolve from my shoulders, floating up and away from my body. And that's when I realize that it wasn't exhaustion at all. It was fear. Fear that the decision I made was the wrong one. Fear that I was walking into the unknown to possibly fall into an unexpected hole.

  "Heath…I told William no this morning." I stare at him, taking in the way his beautiful features soften as I finish my sentence, "I already chose you. I think I chose you before I even knew you were an option."

  He glances at the group of kids and runs a hand over the back of his neck. "Well, this was overkill, then. I thought about just—"