Nothing Happened

by Molly Booth

Ben flinched. “Oh I know, I know. I believe Hana. She wouldn’t do that.”

  Relief flooded through me, and I nodded and snuffled a little, wiping at my nose with the back of my hand. I didn’t care how gross that was.

  “No, she wouldn’t.” It felt good to say. “And she didn’t. And I’m never forgiving Claudia or Donald.”

  Ben scooted just a smidgen closer to me. “I get that.”

  “I want to fire them. And carve out their hearts with the gardening shears.”

  Ben laughed, kind of forced.

  “I’m not joking.”

  “I know, it’s just…” He trailed off.

  I sighed, turned away, and stared out into the dark. I didn’t care if Ben thought I was ruthless. I wasn’t exaggerating. If he didn’t get that those people had hurt my sister, and were therefore scum, then—

  “Bee, I’m in love with you.”

  THE WORDS LEFT my mouth so effortlessly, I barely registered that I’d said them. Bee froze for, like, seconds, so I couldn’t even tell if I had said them. Just silence, save for some ironic fireworks. If things had gone according to plan, we would’ve been underneath the fireworks when I’d said this, and then maybe she wouldn’t be glaring into the night with her forehead perpetually pinched like that.

  Finally, she spoke. “What…”

  I held my breath.

  “What the fuck, Ben?”

  Shit. “Umm…” What if Donald and Claudia had been wrong somehow? Crap, crap, crap. “I’m into you, very into you, in like…a romantic and, uh…sexual way?”

  She stood up immediately. “I can’t deal with this,” she announced. “I have to go.” She took off down the trail.

  “Wait!” I scrambled up to follow her. She was almost jogging. “Bee, please!”

  She suddenly stopped at the waterfront and whipped around. “What do you want?”

  I took a step toward her. “To know how you feel. Please.”

  She stuffed her hands in her shorts pockets. “What, so you can turn around and accuse me of being in love with you? I don’t think so.”

  “What?” I sputtered.

  She rolled her eyes so hard I was sure they’d gone all the way around. “Last summer.”

  Okay, so we were finally going to talk about this. “Yes.”

  “Last summer, Ben.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Do you not remember what happened last summer?!”

  WHEN I WOKE up, pain erupted in my back. Where am I? Someone asleep, hot and sweaty, was lying on top of me. It was Bee, half-naked, breathing steadily. My shirt was gone, too.

  Sunlight poured into Stickleback. Shit. Then the back pain made sense. I’d been lying with Bee on top of me, with crinkled, pointy tarps underneath me, for hours.

  I gently shook her. “Bee…Bee…”

  “Mmmm…”

  “Bee, morning meeting.”

  Her eyes flew open. “Crap!” She pushed herself off me and up—I looked away—and sprang into action, quicker than I’d ever seen Bee in the morning. She threw my shirt at me, and we both scrambled out the door.

  “Have you heard the trumpet yet?” she asked, as we hurried (no running!) down the path.

  “Wait.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. It suddenly occurred to me I could check the time. “Oh. It’s only six thirty.”

  We had an hour before we had to wake up the campers.

  “God.” She heaved a sigh of relief. “I thought—”

  “I know.”

  “We should still hurry back.”

  “Definitely.”

  And that was it. We walked in silence along the trail together, and in some nonverbal agreement, back up to Nest. We grabbed the beer cooler and the sparkler bucket and dropped them off down at Dam, buried the beer bottles deep in the recycling.

  There, in the grass behind the building, we paused, a few feet away from each other. I needed to go to the right, back to Snowshoe, and Bee would go left, to Little Bat. Disheveled and exhausted, yes, but neither one of us seemed to be able to move.

  I felt acutely aware that if we didn’t talk about this now, it could all disappear.

  “So…” I began.

  She raised her eyebrows. I almost gulped.

  “So…” I pushed forward. “Last night?”

  “Yeah.” Her face went blank.

  “I just wanted to say…umm…” I searched for the words. “Well, I guess what I want to know is…do you like me?”

  “What?” she snapped.

  “I mean, I think you like me?” I said again, glancing at her.

  She went quiet for a moment, seemed to decide something, then looked up at me with blazing eyes. What had I done?!

  “Yeah, I like you,” she snapped. “We’re friends.”

  “Just friends…?”

  “Isn’t that all we are?”

  “Right.” I swallowed. Tactile memories bombarded my brain. Fingers, mouths, tongues, ears, nipples—friends?

  Bee

  I stood there, behind Dam with Ben, furiously processing. It all made stupid sense now. We’d been drunk, it was late, it was after a party. Of course he didn’t like me. Neither of us had really meant it. Alcohol and horniness meant it, clearly. And now he accused me of liking him! I could say the same thing! So how dare he pin all of this on me?

  I needed to leave. To run the fuck away. I blabbed about us being friends, and then ended it.

  “Okay, well, glad we worked that out,” I said, cheerfully. “I gotta go.”

  “Me too…”

  Strangely, we both went in for a small hug—a hug neither of us probably wanted—and after, he pulled back and did this weird thing. Our faces were close again, and it seemed for just one moment, faster than a second, that he was leaning down toward me. In a kissy way.

  But I didn’t want to kiss him again if he didn’t like me. My hand automatically moved in between us and gently pushed him away.

  “No.” I half laughed. “No more of that.”

  “Oh.” He laughed too. “Right.”

  “See you soon.”

  “Okay.”

  And with that, I turned and ran the fuck away.

  WAS THAT REALLY how it had happened? Bee’s side of the story hung in the air, so vivid I could hardly catch my breath.

  “And there I was, thinking I was pathetic for liking you, because you didn’t like me back,” she finished. “And what, now you’re in love with me?” The pain in her voice screamed.

  I tried to process everything I’d just heard.

  “Bee.” I took a step forward. “I’m sorry. If that’s how you…I really fucked that up.”

  “Oh?” She didn’t move.

  “But I was scared.” I scratched my nose. “I didn’t know what I was saying…or what you were feeling…and I should’ve done what I’m doing now. I should’ve told you first. I was so scared you didn’t feel the same way.”

  “And now?” she asked.

  “Well…” I decided it was best not to bring up the Donald/Claudia conversation. That could come later. “Well, it’s now or never. I like you. Love you. And if you don’t feel that too, I guess tough shit for me.”

  She laughed, and when she stopped, her smile stayed. My heart leaped. I took another step forward. My sneaker snapped a twig. She stepped forward, too. One step at a time, till my arms were wrapped around her waist, her hands resting on my shoulders. We were at a middle school dance, swaying to “Stairway to Heaven.” We were in space, floating between planets.

  “Ummm…” she whispered, lips so close. “I don’t know, okay?”

  “What?” I whispered.

  “I mean…” She looked away. It was physically painful not to be looking into her eyes. She turned back. Thank goodness. “I mean, of course I’m in love with you.”

  Adrenaline shot through my body, my grip on her tightened ever so slightly.

  “But, like, I don’t want to…I mean, I’m not in love with you, really. I don’t even know
how to explain this.”

  I tried not to smile. I must’ve failed, because she smiled back at me.

  And suddenly we were kissing. So much kissing. All the kissing. Memories of kisses combining with current kisses. Pressed into each other, my hands grasping the back of her neck, her hands through my hair. Feeling, feeling, feeling. The most intense ten seconds of my life.

  We broke away, each springing back a couple feet. I took a moment and caught my breath, tasting night sky and waves. Moment taken, I looked back at Bee. She felt me looking and met my eyes, like a deer in headlights. Crap, was this happening again?

  Then she burst out laughing. Loud, magical Bee laughter, and I was afraid she would wake the whole camp.

  She paused, wiped tears out of the corners of her eyes. “Ben, what just happened?”

  I couldn’t help laughing too. It was the most romantic moment of my life so far, with the girl I loved, with Bee Leonato, the greatest girl in the world. But also the girl who got the entire camp to call me Bunny. What even was life?! I kind of wanted to call my mom and ask her.

  “Bee, I love you.” I said it again, because we could now. “I love you more than anything.”

  She smiled, rushed forward, and threw her arms around me again. “Do you really?”

  “Yes.” I went to kiss her again, but when we pulled back a little, and I leaned in again, something broke. A shadow passed over her face. I stopped.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Ben, I just…I can’t do this right now.” She broke away again and pulled on her hair. “Hana—Hana’s so upset.”

  “Right—I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “I didn’t mean for this to happen on the same night.”

  “Well, duh.” Bee sighed, staring out at the water. “Who could’ve guessed Claudia and Donald would turn into assholes for Fourth of July?”

  “Tell me about it,” I agreed, inching over beside her at the shoreline. “But I’ll talk to them in the morning. I’m sure it’s just a big misunderstanding. We can work it out.”

  “Work it out?” Bee turned to me, eyes wide with surprise. “What are you talking about? Those two are dead to me. There’s nothing to work out.”

  “WHAT?” HE STAYED close, so close I could feel his breath on my lips when he spoke. Concentrate. “What do you mean?”

  “Ben, I don’t care what kind of misunderstanding this was,” I said, feeling my stomach begin to twist in that familiar way it does when I have to set people straight. “Claudia just dumped Hana in front of everyone, and Donald showed everyone her private messages.”

  Ben winced. That was good. He should wince. “Yeah, I know, that was real bad. He needs to apologize. I don’t know what came over him.”

  “Apologize?” I sputtered. “They both need to leave camp. What they just did was unforgivable.”

  Ben’s eyes got serious in the buzzing lights. They searched mine; I let them. He wasn’t going to find what he was looking for.

  “Bee, those are our friends, two of my best friends,” Ben said, finally, slowly. “They fucked up, but we need to figure this out. We’ve all known each other for years.”

  “And?” I growled. “And who the fuck cares? You don’t get to hurt people and then explain yourselves. You don’t get to just apologize and move past humiliating someone.”

  He hesitated. That was bad. That was all I needed to see.

  “We’re not talking about this anymore,” I explained. “We’re done here. I have to go.”

  “Are you serious?”

  I turned and walked away, calling back over my shoulder: “Are you serious?”

  “Bee, not yet—we need to figure this out first. As friends, right?”

  Friends. The word burned in my chest.

  “Friends?” I whipped around and pointed at him. “We can’t be friends if you’re friends with my enemies!”

  “Are Donald and Claudia your ‘enemies’?” Ben demanded. I heard an eye roll in his voice. I hated it.

  “Now they are!” I shouted. “They hurt someone I love! You of all people should understand this!”

  He brought a hand up over his face. I instantly regretted saying it. I knew what Ben had been through. I knew because he had trusted me last year.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…I shouldn’t have said that.” I sighed. “But I’m done talking about this.”

  “Great,” he said, his voice hollow. “Me too.”

  He stayed; I walked away. What a fucking mess. Maybe this fight was for the best. We didn’t make sense. And now I could stop trying to make it make sense.

  Now I knew this was over, 100 percent. And that was a relief.

  I WOKE UP an hour after Mom tucked me in. Apparently, Xanax doesn’t actually work through your life being obliterated in a ten-minute explosion of crap.

  I sat up and immediately looked across the room—

  Bee’s bed was empty.

  I grabbed my phone and texted Christopher.

  I hate life. You up?

  I waited for half an hour before I gave up on a reply. Fireworks cracked outside my window. Right, it was Fourth of July, and it was only midnight. Christopher would be out partying. He was with someone else.

  Text Claudia, my brain automatically proposed. You’ll feel so much better.

  But that’s how it worked before, I thought, tears reemerging. It doesn’t work that way now.

  I hugged my pillow and screamed into it. I had to. The sadness—the big, angry one—ripped through me. When it was over, my throat felt as raw as the rest of me.

  I must’ve fallen asleep again after that.

  “ANYTHING??” SOPHIA WHISPERED. I’d just taken my fourth trip to the bathrooms in Dam. I shook my head. Almost an entire night of bathroom trips and staking out Nest’s trail entrance and…nothing.

  “Maybe we should stop for now, I’m getting tired,” I said. Which actually wasn’t an excuse—I couldn’t stop yawning. Was this what getting old was like?

  Sophia sighed in agreement and sat back to watch the movie. We’d done the sparklers earlier, and now we were hanging out in the attic of Luna, the counselor chill spot. They’d abandoned it for the night, so us CITs got to use it to party. And by party I mean eat cheesy popcorn and watch this old movie Clueless, which only Wallace had voted against. Wallace explained he was a Jane Austen purist. I don’t know what that had to do with Cher, but whatever, the movie was hilarious, and he came around.

  Another makeover montage started, and my eyelids began to flutter, my head nodded forward….This beanbag chair was so mushy and if I curled up like a cat…

  Sophia shook me awake. “Nessa, you gotta go to bed.”

  “Merrrgh.” I batted her hands away. “I’ll sleep here.”

  “You’re going to regret that in the morning.”

  “No, you will.” I stuffed my face into the fluffy beanbag cover.

  I woke up a few hours later, disoriented. Popcorn crumbs, paper cups. What a mess we’d made. No wonder the counselors didn’t like us being up here.

  With all my strength, I rolled like a pill bug out of the beanbag chair and pushed myself up. It was chilly. I wanted my sleeping bag now. Why was there so much space between me and my sleeping bag??

  I walked back to Moose, too out of it to even swat at the mosquitoes. Okay, mosquitoes, eat me! You win this round!

  I reached the cabin, poked my head in. Margo wasn’t home, still partying probably, and it felt weird inside without her and the campers. I missed them already, even if they’d chewed me up and spit me out, kind of literally.

  I didn’t want to go inside yet. I turned around and sat on the little porch steps instead and decided to look wistfully up at the stars.

  I missed home, too, wherever that was. Our new apartment, maybe. Camp usually felt like home, but being a CIT was different than I’d thought it would be. And I had to do it for the whole summer. I thought being part of the staff might mean I’d feel insider-y, finally a member of the cool group. But we were still
once removed. Or three removed, maybe. The highest up, Ben’s group, seemed to glow with royalty—constantly bickering and laughing about things only they could talk about.

  I wondered if Sophia, Wallace, and I would ever be those counselors. Siiiiiiiigh.

  My eyelids began to flutter again. Maybe I’d grab my sleeping bag and sleep out here. It might be nice to be woken up by the sun….

  Instead, whispered voices woke me. I sat up, disoriented, everything dark and blurry. I was still outside. How much time had passed? Instinctually, I lay back down. I didn’t know who was there, maybe a serial killer, and I didn’t want them to see me.

  “I don’t know, I feel kind of bad.” I knew the voice, but my ears weren’t awake enough yet to identify it.

  “Like they were going to last anyway,” another voice answered. A pair of serial killers! “Claudia’s an idiot.”

  Hmm. Serial killers who knew Claudia. Unlikely.

  “Ha! Well, that’s true. Can you believe how she acted tonight?” Suddenly, I realized: that was Connie. “I just don’t get what John sees in her.”

  “Boobs?” said a boy’s voice.

  “Maybe,” she replied. “But other people have boobs. Do you think Margo’s going to out you guys, if she puts it together?”

  I peeked over. They were paused on the trail, near the bench.

  “I fucking doubt it.” Bobby. It was Bobby. “She’s totally paranoid someone’s going to find out about us this summer. Hook up with me, ignore me in the morning.”

  “Why do you keep hooking up with her, then?” Connie asked. I was blearily wondering that myself.

  “Oh, you know.” Bobby’s voice sounded sad.“’Cause I like her. And every year she’s funnier, and prettier….”

  “All right, I get it.” Connie snorted. “I don’t need to hear a poem.”

  “And you know, I get laid. Are you getting laid?” Pause. “Didn’t think so.”

  “You’re disgusting.”

  “That’s not what Margo said last night.”

  I heard a slight shuffle, a thump, and then a yelp.

  “Fuck off, Connie!”

  “Sorry, you absolutely had to be subdued.”