Breaking the Rules of Revenge

by Samantha Bohrman

  Despite his comment, Mallory was starting to think Ben had finally started feeling truly bad about his actions, mostly because she’d never seen anyone work so hard to start a fire. He found a stick and a piece of wood and spun the stick until it started smoking. It took at least fifteen minutes, long enough to probably give Ben some pretty serious stick-twirling calluses.

  He tossed his hoodie down on the ground next to the fire and said, “If you don’t mind, we could share a seat.”

  Mallory took him up on his offer. It sounded better than sitting on a dirty floor in damp clothes. Only inches apart, and not fighting, Mallory was at a loss for words. Ben, his voice softer than normal, said, “I’m guessing if I’d agreed to go to Sadie Hawkins with you last fall, we wouldn’t be in this position now.”

  “What?” So that’s what this was all about. It sounded like Blake. She didn’t take rejection well, and her grudges could go on for years. Mallory remembered when Blake’s junior high BFF chose to take another girl on a family ski trip instead of Blake. The former BFF had ended up changing schools. “Why didn’t you want to go? Now that we’re being honest.”

  “Umm…let me see. Maybe I didn’t want to go out with a girl who would dress up a goat in my clothes and release it onto the football field the first time I disappointed her.” He stared at her waiting for a reaction. “That’s crazytown.”

  Despite herself, Mallory laughed. “But you didn’t know I was going to do that at the time.” She had wondered why there was a goat on the field during that football game. She’d been in the stands for pep band playing a bunch of songs that had been popular during her grandparents’ day. “Eye of the Tiger”—they always had to play that. Jill had elbowed her and they’d tried to hold back the laughter long enough to get through the song.

  “Maybe I didn’t know you were going to do that, but I knew you were up to something. I mean, it’s not exactly a secret that you’re only nice to certain people.” He raised his eyebrows. “I had to chase down the goat and get my jersey off it so I could wear it for the game.” Ben took in her mirthful reaction and looked genuinely surprised. “Laughing at yourself. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

  “You don’t know anything about me, Ben.” He looked unconvinced, but truer words had never been spoken.

  “That’s not true. I know…” He paused, presumably to think of one of the two things he knew about her. “I know that you love fireflies and reading.”

  True enough.

  “But you don’t love fireflies in a ‘aren’t they cute’ sort of way. I don’t know—there’s more to you.” He smiled at her. “I like that.”

  Her stomach went all light and airy. He was being so nice, more than nice…

  “I also know that you aren’t any good at being mean. You put up a good front, though. I mean, last year…” He trailed off. “You had me fooled.”

  She did suck at being mean. “No, I’m just bad at confrontation. I have mean thoughts.”

  He wrinkled his brow. “That doesn’t make you mean. You can only really judge someone by their actions, not their thoughts.” In a softer tone of voice, he said, “For instance, if someone puts food coloring in your tooth whitener, that person would be mean.”

  Forgiveness was blossoming in her heart. “But if that person was provoked and he tried to stop it before it happened, he might not be mean.” She paused to settle on a better adjective. “More like…”

  “Stupid,” Ben suggested.

  “A little,” she acknowledged. “I would call him forgivable.”

  That made him smile.

  She said, “I hope I’m forgivable, too. I did some pretty awful things.”

  He nodded in agreement. “Let’s just start over.”

  That was the best thing she’d heard since camp started.

  Mallory looked up at him, feeling hopeful and…something else. When they were this close, almost touching, she couldn’t be mad at him. All she could think about was the boy next to her. At school, she’d always thought he was so cute, but he felt like he was from a different world. He was a football player, and she was a book nerd. He was so close she had to try not to touch him. If she moved at all, she’d brush his skin.

  He looked down at her with an expression that was anything but anger. Mallory’s heartbeat sped up. He said, “I’m sorry about everything, especially the tooth prank. I almost died when I saw you at breakfast.”

  “I probably deserved it.” With sincerity (on Blake’s behalf) she said, “I’m sorry for everything I’ve done, too.” She sat up straight, faced him, and held out her hand. Ben looked a touch amused, but he took her hand and gave it one firm pump. His skin felt dry and warm. Trapped in a secret cave with a handsome boy—it would be like her to try to shake his hand. She was such an idiot. But she’d already done it. She looked him in the eye and said, “Truce?”

  He nodded. “Truce.”

  She wondered if he was feeling anything or if it was just her.

  Half an hour later the rain was still coming down hard. Mallory was seriously uncomfortable from trying to stay on his hoodie without touching him.

  Then Ben let his leg drop against hers. Mallory froze. Should she move or try to act casual? For a moment, she just stayed stock-still, almost not breathing. Both of them were staring at the fire. What was he thinking? Finally, she relaxed a little and let her own leg press into his. She wanted to lean into him completely, to feel more of him.

  After what seemed like forever, he looked her way. “So…” he started to say.

  “Yeah,” she answered. She could barely talk. Was he as fixated on their legs as she was or maybe it was no big deal to him?

  He looked down at her, his eyes looked darker than normal and he said, “So George has this theory about why we were fighting.”

  Mallory had a feeling she knew what this theory was, but she wanted to hear him say it. “What’s his theory?” She could barely even think with the feeling of his leg pressed against hers. It was just leg, just a little skin, but she was dying.

  “He thinks we like each other but can’t admit it.”

  Mallory looked down shyly. Never in a million years did she think this would happen.

  When she looked back up at him without denying it, he smiled and reached out to—

  Before anything more could happen—not to mention, where was he reaching?—a static noise from the bag interrupted the sound of rain and their breathing. “What’s that?” asked Mallory.

  “The walkie talkie.”

  Ben grabbed it and said, “Hello.”

  “Fozzie, here. You guys okay?”

  “We’re good,” Ben answered.

  They were more than good.

  “Phew. I was starting to worry. Y’all are gonna need to hurry back to camp before the next line of storms hits.”

  Ben stood up and offered his hand to Mallory. He held on to it just a little longer than necessary. After one afternoon together, she could feel herself starting to fall for Ben. It would be so easy. But if she let herself fall for him, where would that get her? She’d lose everything as soon as she told him she’d been lying.

  When they finally made it back to camp, Mallory warmed up in a hot shower and cuddled up in her bunk with The Accidental Duchess. Instead of providing her with a happy afternoon escape, she set down the book after a chapter with a queasy sense of foreboding. The duke had changed strategies. Instead of putting off vows until he could figure out how to wriggle out of the engagement, he had decided to move the wedding up! Lydia and the duke were about to elope. As she prepared to utter, “I, Temperance Saelfried, do thee wed,” Lydia Farrow’s knees shook. The duke, who she had begun to fall for, would hate her forever if he ever learned the truth. Worse yet, she didn’t even know how to pronounce her fake name properly. Lydia was gambling that no one else knew how to say it either.

  Mallory felt Lydia’s pain. Deception was all fun and games, until it wasn’t.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ben
Gets Mail

  Ben

  On the second morning of their not-so-unpleasant punishment cleaning up the trail systems, Ben and Blake both arrived early outside Fozzie’s office. Yesterday had been the start of something, but he had no clue if she felt the same. They’d gone from fighting to…whatever they were now so fast, his brain hadn’t caught up. Besides a wordless jog back to camp through the drizzle and a quick “Bye, see you later,” they hadn’t talked. Ben shuffled his feet and looked up at Blake, eager to gauge her reaction to the question he was about to ask. “So…what do you say, do you want to clean up the South Paw Trail some more today and maybe…check out the cave again?” And by “check out the cave again,” he meant “wanna make out?”

  Blake let out a volley of nervous giggles, not the reaction he would expect from the girl who kissed the quarterback on the sidelines like she was sending him to war during every game. Every game. Sometimes she even kissed an extra player, too, for luck supposedly.

  The Foz interrupted the mixed signals passing for a conversation. “Ah, Benjamin…just who I wanted to see.”

  Ben shifted on his feet nervously and Fozzie said, “Don’t worry. It’s nothing bad. Your mom mailed you a care package.”

  He exhaled with relief. “Sweet.”

  Before sending them up the trail again, Fozzie left them for a moment to locate some bug spray, leaving him alone with Blake and the care package. His mom had scrawled his name in Sharpie on the duct tape she’d used to seal the battered box shut. Chelsea had plastered it with glittery stickers.

  Blake looked at the box eagerly. “You must have a really nice family. I can’t imagine getting a care package.”

  “Really? I thought your dad spoiled you rotten.” He knew that actually. She had the latest and greatest everything.

  She stopped and a funny expression he couldn’t place crossed her face. “I guess he does. He’s not the care package type, though. He might tell me to go to Nordstrom and buy myself something. That’s more his style. Or have his secretary do it.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  She shrugged. “It’s okay.” With a lame smile, she said, “His secretary buys really nice gifts. Maybe if my sister and I got along, she’d mail packages. We barely even speak, though.”

  “You have a sister?”

  Blake’s mouth gaped. After she collected herself, she said, “You’re joking, right?”

  He shook his head.

  “My identical twin sister, Mallory. She goes to Bellevue, too.”

  “Really? That’s crazy. Never heard of her. If I ever ran into her, I must’ve thought she was you.”

  It took her a while to stop looking disturbed by that, for whatever reason. She probably thought her sister was the lesser Jones and didn’t want to be mistaken for her.

  Finally, she refocused on the package. “Aren’t you gonna open it?” Blake looked excited to see what was in it, which was exactly why he was hesitating. God knows what his family had put in this box. It could be filled with jock itch cream and Jolly Ranchers for all he knew. At this point in their interrupted-by-a-walkie-talkie nonrelationship, Ben wanted to show her his good side. That involved zero involvement from any member of his family.

  “Open it! I wanna see.”

  It was adorable how Cindy Lou Who she was about a care package. With a sigh, he gave in. Plus, it’s not like he wanted to carry it all day… Like a Band-Aid, he ripped off the duct tape and displayed the oozing sore of family drama within. Today’s drama-in-a-box included…

  “Snacks!” He held up a package of Double Stuff Oreos triumphantly, relieved that his mom had included normal things. “We can save them for the cave.”

  Blake looked up at him with a shy smile, and his heart almost leaped out of his chest, not to mention other body parts. He was going to have trouble not running up the trail. Definitely, an early snack break day. He tried to look only a normal level of happy about their morning plans, which was hard.

  Next item in the box: a couple of condoms. “Jesus. Sorry about that.” He pocketed the Trojans as fast as he could while Blake blushed and looked the other direction. “Guess my brother put this care package together.” He was going to kill Jack next time he saw him.

  Also included: a college brochure from NC State, Chapel Hill, and one from… “Duke.” He shook his head, “I don’t think so.”

  “Everyone in my family goes there,” Blake said matter-of-factly.

  “I’m not surprised.” The stadium was probably called Jones Stadium. He, on the other hand, would never fit in there. Trailer park kids don’t go to Duke.

  Finally, there was a picture Chelsea drew with a big “To: Ben, Love: Chelsea” across the top. It was a fairly realistic picture of a rabbit. “My sister’s into drawing animals,” he explained.

  “She’s pretty good. How old is she?”

  “Eight.”

  In an aww-isn’t-that-sweet tone of voice, Blake said, “That’s so nice!”

  The note read like a list of the TV shows that he’d missed since he’d been at camp, which made him smile. That was so his family, completely TV obsessed. All three of them had binge-watched The Flash. Chelsea would probably watch it with him again when he returned. Then his mom mentioned T-Bone’s latest antics and Ben sort of deflated. His parents had kicked him out of the Bachelor Pad Royale and made him get a job. T-Bone was now working at the local fertilizer plant, a cringe-worthy job if there ever was one.

  T-Bone was doing a damn fine job helping his mom make her case. It’s not like Ben thought his neighborhood friends were a bad influence, but at the same time even thinking of the fertilizer plant made him want to do his math homework twice. Score one for Mom.

  Fozzie finally came back with the bug spray and sent them on their way. Unlike yesterday, they walked side by side up the trail. Blake looked just as much like a Disney princess as usual, even in her hiking boots. As he admired her, she stepped backward, tripped on a rock, and almost fell on her totally fine ass. “I’m such a klutz.”

  “You’re so not like I thought you’d be,” he said. Klutzy was the one word he would not use to describe the girl he knew from Bellevue, who was good at everything she tried. “We’ve been feuding all year, but I feel like I’m just meeting you this week. It’s weird. I mean, we’re getting along pretty well.” A smile pulled at his lips as he recalled yesterday in the cave. “I can’t figure out why everything is so different now.”

  Blake took a deep breath and bit her lip. “I feel that way, too.” After thinking for a second, she said, “You know, there is a face you show the world and then there’s the person you really are…”

  He nodded. He knew that all too well.

  “I guess I act more confident and together than I feel on the inside most of the time.” She looked right at him and said, “I thought you were supposed to be this cocky loner, but that isn’t quite right.”

  He laughed. “I’m just quiet at school. I’ve learned that if you don’t say much and look tough, people stay out of your way.”

  “Everyone thinks you’re a big Rebel without a Cause kind of guy.”

  “Not really. I’m just like everyone else, trying to figure out where I fit in and what to do. I think it’s the Native American thing, too. I could be thinking about donuts, and people assume I’m being all wise and stoic.”

  Blake nodded in that way good listeners do, just leaving him space to talk. Good listener—just one more thing he wouldn’t have guessed about her.

  “I usually just let people assume whatever they want. It’s funny, though, because I’m only part Native. Maybe it sounds weird, but I know the least bit about what it means to ‘be Indian,’ you know, culture-wise. My dad died in a car wreck when I was little, and my mom is, like, mostly Irish or something. I took after my dad more.”

  Blake’s face fell. “That’s so sad about your dad. I’m so sorry.”

  He shrugged. “It’s just the way it always was. I was five when he died. Then we moved to North Ca
rolina when I was seven. My mom followed a bad idea named Bob. He’s long gone, but we stayed. My mom likes the weather.

  “Sometimes, I feel like I’m a pretender. Sure, I look sort of Native, but am I? I don’t know what I am.”

  Blake was so struck by that idea that she had to stop walking and nod. “I totally know what you mean.”

  That seemed strange. Blake was exactly as advertised—rich white chick. He was simplifying, though. There was definitely more to her than he used to think.

  “If you wanted to learn more about your dad’s culture, you could always do Native American Studies in college or something.” Blake looked up at him. “That might be cool.”

  “Maybe. I never thought of that. I’m a math guy, though. And physics.” Plus, it seemed weird to learn about your culture in a classroom. But then again, it’s not like he was going to learn about it from his dad.

  Blake made a face like she’d just bit into a lemon. “I hate math!”

  He gave her a weird look and she corrected. “Just because I’m good at it doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  “Fair enough.” Weird, though. Besides cheerleading, Blake had a reputation as a math head. Every day, she came to class, never bothered to take notes and earned the top score on the test. If she wasn’t so busy setting style trends and doing her hair, she would be captain of the school mathletes.

  When they finally got up to the cave, Ben said, “Do you wanna go in?”

  Surprising him once again, she was all rosy-cheeked with embarrassment. He’d heard so many stories about Blake and all the guys she’d been with. At least half the football team claimed to have “had a piece of that.” But watching her, he felt like he was taking a total innocent into a den of iniquity instead of Blake Jones, piece-of-ass extraordinaire, not that he was thinking about her in those terms anymore. The guys were going to have to stop talking about her like that around him.

  He gestured with his hand. “Ladies first.”

  Because they weren’t freezing, they looked around the inside, which they’d both missed yesterday, except to verify there wasn’t a wild animal about to eat them.