by Sarra Cannon
He’s not an old Ford pickup kind of guy.
Mason walks up to it proudly and pounds the hood a couple of times. A huge smile spreads across his face.
“What do you think? Pretty cool, huh?”
I’m literally speechless. I walk around the back of the truck and study its dirty bed that still has gravel and woodchips between the treads. Dried mud is splattered across the back and the tires are covered in red clay.
I open the door and pull myself up into the driver’s seat. The windows are both already rolled down.
Inside, the upholstery is actually patched up in places with duck tape. On the dashboard, there’s an old, yellowed Polaroid picture of two kids with bright blond hair. They look almost the same age except the girl is maybe a year older than the boy.
I pick it up. “Who’s this?”
Mason’s face darkens for a brief moment. He hops into the passenger seat and takes the picture from me. “Just someone I used to know.”
He seems so sad and serious. Not like Mason at all. I don’t know how to make sense of it. There’s something more going on here than just my accident.
No, this is something else.
I’ve been so wrapped up in myself and my own problems, it never occurred to me that he might be going through something of his own right now. And I have no idea how to push past his walls to find out how to help him. After what happened between us this past week, I’m probably the last person on earth he wants to talk to about it.
He puts the picture back up on the dashboard, then shrugs it off.
“What do you think of the truck?”
I put my hands on the steering wheel and try really hard to see what it is he’s so excited about. “I think you got screwed by your insurance company.”
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Well, I didn’t want to spend all that money on another brand new car,” he says. “I took some of it and bought all kinds of gear for my trip. Camping stuff like a tent and some backpacks. A hatchet. A camping stove. Stuff like that.”
I have to look twice to make sure he’s not kidding. “A hatchet?”
He lifts one eyebrow and slowly nods up and down. “Oh yeah, baby. And it’s a real beauty. It’s used, but it’s freshly sharpened and really great quality.”
“Mason.” I turn all the way toward him on the seat. “What the hell are you going to do with a hatchet?”
He stares at me for a long minute. “You don’t get it, do you?”
I study his face, not sure what he expects me to say. “I get the urge to leave town, believe me. But why this truck? Why camping instead of hotels? If it were me I would fly somewhere exotic like St. Lucia and stay at a resort with room service.”
He presses his lips together tight and turns his body away from me. “I guess I should have known someone like you couldn’t understand what I’m trying to do,” he says.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He slaps his hand against his thighs. “I don’t know, maybe that you act like a princess sometimes,” he says. “Penelope Wright couldn’t possibly understand why someone would willingly camp out in nature or want to just hop in a truck and head west.”
I grip the steering wheel. “Explain it to me, then.”
Mason turns to me. “Don’t you see what’s been happening to us?” he asks. “We party and spend money and drink like it’s nothing. We take everything in life for granted, which means we’re always on the verge of losing it and we don’t even realize it.”
“I thought you said this had nothing to do with the accident,” I say.
He runs a hand through his dark blond hair. “It’s not just the other night,” he says. “It’s everything. Every night. I feel like it’s gotten completely out of control. I don’t want to be this person, Penny. It’s like the more time goes on, the more I become someone else. Someone I really don’t think I like anymore.”
My shoulders slump and I take my hands off the wheel.
“So this is really some kind of pilgrimage?” I ask. “Some kind of journey to salvation? What do you think is really going to change?”
He looks up and our eyes meet. “Everything,” he says. He shifts on the seat, moving closer to me. “Have you ever wondered what it would be like to pull into a town where no one knows you and just set up camp? To walk around without all the expectations that come with being a rich kid? Look at Knox. When he moved to Fairhope, no one gave a shit about him. He didn’t have a fancy car. He didn’t flaunt his dad’s money. He just came in as himself.”
“And everyone treated him like crap,” I say, not understanding what he’s getting at.
He shakes his head. “Not everyone,” he says. “The people that mattered saw past it all. It was people like us who judged him for what he didn’t have or what he might have done. But the people that were going to make a difference in his life just saw him for who he was. Money didn’t factor into it, because he didn’t let it. Don’t you ever think about how that would feel?”
I have no idea how something like that would feel. I’ve always been recognized as Tripp Wright’s daughter. Every friend I’ve ever made has known how much money my family has and there’s no way to know if their friendship is real or if they only want to be part of the rich crowd.
Then it hits me.
He’s really leaving.
This isn’t just some spur-of-the-moment thing for him. He’s been thinking about this for a long time. My accident simply became the catalyst that made him finally do it.
Silence stretches between us. I can almost feel the miles passing, putting distance between us that we’ll never get back. By the time he comes home, the world will look completely different. He’ll see it with a whole new set of eyes. He’ll see me with new eyes.
And maybe he won’t like what he sees.
“Please tell me you’re not doing this just to get away from me,” I say.
He reaches across the duck tape and takes my hand. The warmth of his skin on mine is like medicine to my soul.
“Leaving you is one of the hardest parts,” he says softly.
I look over and see that he’s staring at me with an expression that’s full of affection and almost… regret?
“I don’t want you to go.” I can only whisper. My heart is breaking inside. If I tell him about the baby, he might agree to stay, but what good would that do me? I don’t want him to feel trapped here by some feeling of responsibility. He’ll come to resent me for that, I know it.
But if he leaves, I might lose him forever.
He runs his index finger along each of my fingers, one at a time. Back and forth, the lightest whisper of a touch.
“If I don’t get out of this town, I’m going to suffocate here,” he says. “In some ways, you’re the only thing that’s been holding me to this place.”
I sniff and my throat constricts. “Are you saying you’re ready to let me go?”
He’s all I ever wanted, and with each moment that passes between us, I feel him slipping away.
“I’m saying I finally realize that if I stay, I’ll destroy you,” he says. His eyes shine in the dim light. “You want so much more than I can give you, Pen, but when I’m here - when I see you every day - I can’t stay away from you. I try, but I always keep coming back. The only way I can think to save us both is to put some distance between us. To let you move on with your life. Find someone else.”
“I don’t want someone else.”
“You’ve never given anyone else a chance,” he says.
I look away, tears welling up in my eyes. He’s right, but that’s not the problem. The problem is that he’s never given me—us—a real chance. He’s been too busy pushing me away to really explore what could be between us. But when I’m in his arms and it’s just the two of us, I know it could work between us.
Maybe there’s another way to save us both. To find out, once and for all, if we are meant to be.
I’m going to go with him.
Chapter Twenty-Six
My heart races and my head spins. Could I really do something so crazy?
I’d have almost no money to my name. I’d be camping in a tent, sleeping on the ground, eating out of cans or something. But I’d be sleeping next to Mason. If I could have him all to myself for a couple of months, maybe I could break down his walls long enough to make him see that we belong together.
Just thinking about it makes me feel twenty pounds lighter.
Of course, walking away means leaving my entire support system behind. It means walking on a tightrope without a net. It means missing my mother’s annual end-of-season charity ball. And if we’re really gone for months, it means missing the start of the new semester at FCU. It would mess up my entire schedule and plan.
Of course, isn’t that going to happen when the baby comes anyway?
And when am I ever going to have another opportunity like this? I only have a few months until my belly starts growing, and by then it will be too late to find out if he’s with me because he loves me or because he wants to do the right thing.
This is my chance. My one chance.
I look up at him, shadows dancing across the dark stubble on his jawline.
Would he let me come with him?
Mason looks down at me and his deep green eyes hit me straight to my core. I want him more than ever.
I need him more than ever.
His eyes narrow and he turns his head, questioning. I smile and he studies me. “What?”
“When are you planning to leave?”
“Tomorrow,” he says. “First light.”
“Can you wait for me? I want to come see you off.”
His lips part and he studies me again. “What for?” he asks.
I know I should tell him what I’m thinking, but I’m scared he’ll say no. “Just promise me you won’t leave until you see me.”
He hesitates. He wants more specific answers, but I’m not giving them.
“Please,” I say, and it’s the one word that breaks him.
“Yes,” he says. “I’ll wait for you.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
After everyone else has left for the evening, Leigh Anne offers to take me home.
We spent a few hours around the fire talking. Everyone had a ton of questions for Mason once he told them about his plans to take off for a while. Preston kept looking at me like he was scared I might lose it. He wanted to drive me home, but I didn’t want to risk blurting out the truth to him. He’d only try to talk me out of it.
“You aren’t spending the night with Knox out here?” I ask Leigh Anne as we climb into her car.
“Not tonight,” she says. “I’ve got to work a double shift tomorrow, so I want to actually get some rest for a change.”
“Well, considering it’s already after midnight, I think you’re already screwed,” I say.
She giggles. “Not as screwed as I would be if I stayed.”
“Haha,” I say, slapping her arm as she gets in and starts down the bumpy dirt road leading to the highway.
We ride for a moment in silence, but as soon as she pulls out onto the main road, I turn toward her in my seat.
“Thanks for tonight,” I say. “I really needed a night to just chill without anyone looking at me like I’m some horrible person.”
She crinkles her face and pats my leg. “We’ve all messed up, Penny. We’ve all got regrets.”
“Thanks,” I say.
She frowns. “How are you taking Mason’s news?” she asks. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I say. “No. I don’t know, really.”
“Did you get to talk to him much about what happened last week?”
“A little.”
She clears her throat. “Penny, what exactly did happen last week?” she asks. “One minute you were kissing Braxton and having a good time, then the next Mason was dragging you out into the parking lot. What happened between the two of you out there?”
As far as Leigh Anne knows, Mason is nothing more than a dream to me. I’ve never told her the truth about us sleeping together for the past year.
Maybe it’s time.
I lean back against the seat and play with a strand of my hair, twirling it around and around my finger. “My hair used to be so long,” I say. “Remember how Mason used to tease me about it?”
She smiles. “He used to call you Rapunzel. He said if your parents ever locked you up in a tower, he would come save you.”
“My knight in shining armor,” I say. “Last summer Preston and I had some friends over on the boat. Mason and a few others. We stayed up really late drinking and playing cards. Watching movies. After everyone left and Preston went to bed, it was just me and Mason.”
I take a deep breath in, remembering that night like it was yesterday.
“We must have stayed up talking until five in the morning,” I say. “I had my hair in one long braid down my back and out of the blue, he asked me to take it down. I remember feeling something shift between us. Like a wall coming down. I pulled the braid apart and he ran his hands through it over and over. That was the first time he ever told me I was beautiful.”
Leigh Anne looks over at me, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
“He kissed me,” I say, running my hand through my hair. “And then he did a whole lot more than that.”
I watch for her reaction, hoping she’s not going to be angry at me for not telling her sooner. Her mouth falls open slightly, but she doesn’t say a word. She just listens.
“He told me right from the start that he wasn’t looking for a serious relationship,” I say. “I didn’t want to freak him out, so I said I wasn’t either. He told me up front that he didn’t intend to be exclusive, but I thought I could handle it. I thought it would be worth it just to be with him.”
“Oh, Penny,” Leigh Anne says. She reaches for my hand and I take it. “I had no idea.”
“Two days later he showed up at a bonfire on the beach with another girl,” I say, laughing. The sound is hollow and joyless. “The next day I walked into the salon and told them to chop my hair off.”
She pulls up to the gate at my house and the night guard waves us through. When she stops in front of the house, she turns and pulls me into a hug.
“I can’t even imagine how hard that must have been,” she says.
“I’ve been caught in that same cycle ever since,” I say. “When it’s just the two of us, it’s like magic. But every time I see him with another girl, it breaks my heart.”
“This has been going on for over a year?” she asks.
I shrug.
Her eyes widen. “Penny, how come you haven’t told him how you feel about him? You can’t live like that,” she says. “You deserve better than that.”
I suck in a breath. “I know,” I say. “I tried to call it off with him at the boat party just before you came home. That’s why I went out with Braxton. I was trying to move on and have fun. But Mason walked in and saw me kissing Braxton and he freaked out.”
Leigh Anne leans her head against the back of the seat. “Oh my god,” she says. “That’s why he took you outside to talk?”
“Yes,” I say, my nose starting to run from holding back tears. Saying all this out loud makes me sound like a fool, but there’s no way anyone else can see what Mason and I share when it’s just the two of us. If they could see that, they’d understand why I can never let him go. “We kissed, but he gave me the same speech he always gives me about not being able to offer me what I want. I guess I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed his keys and drove off, not really thinking about what I was doing. All I knew was that I was angry and I wanted to get away. It was stupid.”
“I can’t believe you’ve been going through this alone,” she says.
I shrug. “It’s nothing compared to what you were going through. I chose this, you know?”
“You love him,” she says. “Love makes us do crazy things.”
I smile
and wipe my eyes. “Yes it does,” I say. “So if you find out I’ve done something crazy in the name of love, don’t judge me, okay? Promise?”
She cocks her head to the side and narrows her eyes. “Crazy like what?”
I laugh. I shake my head. “I really need to get inside,” I say. I wrap my arms around her. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she says, hugging me back. “I’m here for you if you want to talk about it, okay? You don’t have to go through the hard times alone. I learned that the hard way.”
“I know,” I say. “Goodnight, Leigh Anne.”
“Goodnight,” she says. “And for what it’s worth, I really like your hair like this. It suits you.”
I smile. “Mason said the same thing,” I say. “And here I thought cutting it would piss him off, but he actually liked it.”
“Sometimes men don’t really know what they want until they see it for themselves,” she says.
A nervousness flutters through me as I realize that’s exactly what I’m counting on.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I can’t sleep. There’s too much to do and it’s already late.
I take a shower. dress as simply as I can, then stare at the set of Louis Vuitton luggage I usually take with me on trips. It’s a ten-piece set that cost a fortune. My parents gave it to me as a graduation present after high school, along with a month-long trip to Europe.
I can’t pack in this.
I pull my closet apart looking for something else I can use, but I can’t find anything suitable.
It sort of defeats the purpose, though, to go on a back-to-basics trip with luggage that costs more than the truck we’re riding in. Besides, the idea of lugging a huge suitcase into a camp site is just ridiculous. If I’m going to do this, I want to do it right.
My cheerleading bag is still on the floor of my closet. I pick it up and groan. This thing is tiny, but I can’t find anything else.
Never in my life have I packed in something so small. Not even for an overnight trip.
I’m not sure I can do this.
Part of me says to lift my chin and just do it. I can live in the woods, right? I don’t need all this fancy stuff.