He exhaled in frustration. “How can you say that? I don’t even know who you are.” More pointedly, he asked, “Do you even know who you are?” He looked at her, waiting for a response.
Mallory slumped in defeat. “You’re right. I don’t know who I am.” How could she expect anyone else to love her until she knew who she was? “I’m sorry.”
Rule #1: Never apologize.
It didn’t apply to her anymore so she said it again. “I’m really sorry.”
Ben crossed his arms and gazed into the distance with a stony look. “You can’t just ‘I’m sorry’ your way out of something like this.” He looked at her dead-on and with a palms-up gesture said, “When were you going to tell me? At the end of camp? When we got back to Sofia? Were you hoping I wouldn’t notice?”
She looked at her feet, shame scalding her face. She’d never felt worse. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I just wanted to be someone else for a few weeks. I certainly didn’t think I needed to worry about your feelings.”
Anger and shame mixed into a sour brew in the pit of her stomach. Had he forgotten everything he’d done? “You spent the first week of camp torturing me! You dyed my teeth green. Who even does that?”
Ben shook his head. “I already apologized for that, and I’m still really sorry I did it. Bla—” He shook his head in disgust. “Why am I defending myself to you? You’ve been lying about everything, Mallory.” He pronounced her name like an accusation.
She was guilty of being Mallory. Nothing new there.
Ben started walking away from her, staring at the ground intensely. “Not to mention your sister. You’ve been lying to me since camp started, and yesterday she joined in. You two have been playing me for a total fool.”
She flashed back to day one of camp when he told her his pet peeve had been lying.
He turned around and started in again. “You two are horrible people. Between all of your sister’s pranks and your lying… You can’t be mad at me for a few pranks. If you hadn’t pretended to be her, none of that would have happened to you.” Then he took it a step too far. “When you look at it that way, it was sort of your fault.”
Mallory stalked toward him. “Don’t even try to blame me for that. You were the one who pulled those pranks. That was your fault.”
Mallory was over it. So what if Blake had screwed up. It was time for him to move on. She put up her hand in an “I’m not listening to one more thing” gesture and shook her head. “You can’t have it both ways, mad that I pretended to be her and defensive about pranking me.”
With a shrug Ben walked away. “I need some space.”
She watched him go. Was he running to Blake? Probably not, but who knew. With nowhere to go and nothing to do, she sat on the end of the dock by herself in her sister’s fancy dress. The music of the dance and the sound of campers laughing echoed into the night. She’d never felt so alone. Adding insult to injury, Derek or someone (it was hard to tell in the dark) hurtled down the dock at top speed and cannonballed into the water in his dress clothes.
Now she wasn’t just invisible, she was heartbroken.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Who’s the Asshole Now, Ben?
Ben
Until a week ago he hadn’t even known Mallory Jones existed. Who would have believed that she could have done more damage than her sister? Blake might be totally whacked, but Mallory—she’d stolen his heart and kept it for herself.
He cast out his line and reeled it in slowly, watching the water ripple out behind his lure in a V. The lake was like a mirror today, no wind, not a cloud in the sky. He’d intended to take “Blake” fishing. He’d thought she would enjoy it. Who knows what she enjoyed though? Had she liked him even?
In a million years he couldn’t imagine why Mallory wanted to pretend to be Blake for the summer. At first, he thought she might have been pranking him, like switching identities was an elaborate trick to accomplish…that’s where it fell apart. What was the point? Maybe she actually liked him and everything had been real, but why lie?
It could probably go in the Guinness Book as the mindfuck of the century. He should see if there was a category. Even after all being lied to, here he was—missing her and hating her at the same time.
After he gave up on fishing, he grabbed his pole and went to look for George. He didn’t really feel like being alone with his thoughts. He kept thinking about all the pranks he’d pulled this summer and Mallory at the dance. She’d come to apologize. It was actually really brave.
He found George hanging out around the fire circle. Before joining him, Ben trotted up to the cabin and grabbed the revenge manual. Book in hand, he plopped down next to George on a tree stump. “Hey, George.”
“You look…less than happy,” George commented.
Ben dropped his head to his hands. “I’m a jerk. She was, too, but I started this one.” If you counted the orange hair dye prank, he threw the first punch this summer.
George nodded. “I’ve been trying to tell you that.”
“Yeah. I’m an idiot.” Ben sighed heavily. “I don’t know what to think, George. Do you think Mallory is even that into me?”
“You have been working out a lot,” George noted dryly.
Ben nodded. “It was probably all about my pecs. Really, though, could she have been that serious about the relationship? Why didn’t she just tell me the truth?”
“Maybe she sensed your trust issues. They’re sort of on the surface. Either way, you should ask her, not me.”
George was probably right. He usually was, but Ben was hung up on that issue—why didn’t she just tell him? He would have understood.
He picked Spite, Malice, and Revenge off his lap and chucked it into the remnants of the night’s bonfire along with all the notes he’d taken. Mallory was right. He was worse than Blake. Even though he knew better, he’d been horrible to her. Of course, she hadn’t been honest with him when he’d been intent on torturing her.
“Wasn’t that a library book?” asked George.
Ben made a dismissive gesture. George was obviously a better person than him, too.
Sitting and stewing, he looked up to see Blake approaching, her eyes tiger fierce and an attitude to match. She stopped a foot or so in front of him, put her hands on her hips, and barked out his name in a way that commanded he pay attention, or else.
“Ben.”
He wondered how he ever mistook Mallory for her sister. Except for the blonde Helen of Troy looks, they were complete opposites, like 180 degrees, purple versus orange, night versus day opposites.
“We need to talk.”
George’s eyes about popped out of his head at the sight of Blake. Ben had to admit, the girl did have presence. She was almost a little scary. They hadn’t talked since the dance. He hadn’t talked to either of them since the dance.
She announced, “I just want to be clear about something.”
He raised an eyebrow in question.
In know-it-all tone, she said, “Just to clarify, we’re not dating. I don’t want you to get any ideas.”
With a hybrid snort laugh, he said, “I know. I guess I should have been clearer, though. When I broke up with Mallory, I broke up with the whole Jones family.”
“Ha-ha, Ben.”
In a casual tone, he said, “Anyway, thanks for officially breaking up with me.” When she turned around to leave, he thought better of the situation. More sincerely, he told her, “I’m sorry about the revenge thing. Mallory took the brunt of it, but I’m sorry to you, too.”
“Thanks. Maybe you should tell Mallory that, though.” Before she turned around and left him to feel bad for himself, she said, “If you apologize, I bet she’d take you back.”
In a defensive reaction that George would call juvenile, Ben said, “How do you know I want her back?”
“Oh, please. You’ve been moping around like she pulled your heart out of your chest, stomped on it, and shoved it back in backward.”
�
�She’s right about that,” George said.
That seemed about accurate. “You really think she’d take me back?” he asked Blake.
“You broke her heart, but maybe.”
Ben stared after her. It almost sort of seemed like Blake had just given him her blessing to ask Mal out, like she was the Godfather or something. Well, she sort of was the Godfather. Maybe this meant she was going to stop messing with him, too. He could hope.
And he realized what was he doing: sitting around waiting until camp ended so he could go home and wait for life to return to normal. He didn’t want normal. He wanted to change a lot of things, but mostly, he wanted Mallory.
He’d had pretty much everything handed to him and he didn’t appreciate it. He just couldn’t see it before. He was so focused on being mad at everyone because he had to go to Bellevue (a fancy school that would probably help him get into a good college) that he couldn’t focus on the good stuff. Revenge and silly pranks never would have freed him of that resentment. George was so smart. He told him that on day one.
“You’ve been right all along, George. Do you think there’s any chance Mallory will take me back?”
“I don’t know. You’ll never know unless you ask.”
During free time, Ben went for a run up the South Paw Trail to clear his head. He just didn’t really know what to do in this situation—when you’d made out with a girl a few times but she’d used a false identity. Did you have to go back to square one when you started using real names or…? It was uncharted territory.
Whatever he did, he wanted to win her back. He’d never been happier than when he was with Mallory. He needed to take the risk and trust her. For him, that was like jumping out of a plane without a parachute. Mallory, though, was worth it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The Duke Disappoints
Mallory
It was evening at camp and the crickets were chirping. Everyone else was preparing for some kind of quaint evening activity, an outdoor movie or a moonlight walk. Mallory couldn’t remember and she definitely didn’t care. She needed to get out of this place. Technically, he should have already reported the whole ruse to her dad and whatever authority agreed to let Blake go to camp instead of prison. Instead, they’d been camping on standby, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Fozzie, it seemed, hadn’t figured out what to do with them yet.
Mallory was done waiting. Every time she put herself together and managed to stop crying, she’d see Ben across the mess hall, and the water works would start all over again. She’d been just fine before she met him. Maybe she hadn’t been as happy as she could be, but she was okay. At least she hadn’t been miserable. Now she was ruined.
She finished writing a letter to Zoe. “Sorry I’m leaving early, but I’m sure you’ll understand why.”
Blake already knew. She’d tried to talk her out of it, but in the end, the drama appealed to her and she provided some escape advice. Blake had advised, “Don’t call Ed for a ride. He’ll get in trouble for disobeying Daddy. Get an Uber,” which had made her feel even worse. She had been just about to call Ed. Her sister was more thoughtful than she’d ever given her credit for. Who knows how many times she’d unfairly judged Blake?
So the plan was to Uber out of camp in the middle of the night so that Fozzie wouldn’t notice her departure and intercept. She was skipping the evening activity to pack, but as she glanced at her things, she realized there was nothing to take. Everything she’d brought was Blake’s, even the person she’d been at camp was Blake.
The only things that were hers were the firefly posters, which she was leaving—all of those ideas about fireflies symbolizing the magic within, lighting your own path, blah, blah, blah. Who was she kidding? Mallory was Mallory—more of a beetle than a firefly. And there were the stupid books. She picked up The Accidental Duchess and scowled. The duke had annulled his marriage to Lydia on the grounds of trickery. After two days riding horses and gambling by his lonesome, the duke realized that he could not stand life without his accidental duchess.
Mallory saw Ben eat three plates of spaghetti at dinner last night. He didn’t seem properly tortured at all. It would have been nice if he lost his appetite at least.
Unlike Ben, the duke knew he needed to do something amazing, so he sprung Lydia from Scotland Yard and rode off into the sunset for a secret wedding. Happily ever after. The end.
Mallory would have loved that ending a week ago. Today, she was scowling at the book, frustrated. Why did she persist in torturing herself, reading fictional happily-ever-afters that would never play out in real life?
She couldn’t even blame Ben for not wanting to chase after her. She’d lied to him the entire time they were together. What had she expected to happen? The whole experience was so embarrassing. Why had she been such an idiot? Roughly, she shoved The Accidental Duchess into the free library by Kipper’s bed. She’d be stuck with a thirty-dollar replacement fee for not returning it, but what did it matter? She didn’t want to see it anymore. It reminded her of Ben.
Just then, the cabin door creaked. She looked up from the Duke of Blackmore to see He Who Shall Not Be Named. No, that was a little dramatic, especially since she talked about him constantly. She propped her glasses up on her nose like a secretary ready to speak with the next in line and tucked her hair behind her ear (because she was suddenly fidgety).
Ben sat down next to her. Somewhat sheepishly, he held out his hand and said, “Hi, I’m Ben.” He had a bouquet of wildflowers.
“Really?” she asked, totally disbelieving. She didn’t mention that the flowers were at least partially weeds. Seemed appropriate.
He nodded.
She had just read about the duke rescuing Lydia from the gallows and taking her on horseback to a secret wedding in a Scottish chapel. For her, Ben had weeds. They would probably trigger an asthma attack. That’s what she deserved, though. Even though she was dying to see him, she wanted to hide. She’d behaved so shamefully. All that lying—just the thought made her want to hide her face.
He said, “I know. I was a jerk. Will you trust me a little though? I want to show you something.”
He was apologizing to her?
A little glow of hope blossomed. When he held out his hand for her, she reached out. The touch of his fingers was so right. But could she forgive him so quickly? After everything he’d done, maybe she shouldn’t let him off that easy. She pulled her hand back.
Ben didn’t look offended. Instead, he said, “I want to show you something. Will you go on a walk with me?”
When she didn’t jump up, he said, “Come on. It’s really special.”
Reluctantly, she stood up and followed him out of the cabin. He gestured for her to follow up a little trail into the woods. The sun was going down, and they should be headed back to their cabins any minute. When she hesitated, he said, “Follow me,” looking straight into her soul with his chocolate brown eyes. It would be easier to say no if he weren’t so good-looking.
“We should go back, Ben.” Her mind flashed back to the going to all the pranks, but mostly to putting her heart on the line and him throwing it back in her face. She said, “The thing is, the more I think about it, the more confused I’ve been. I told everyone my name was Blake, but I didn’t lie about the way I felt about you.” She looked down and said, “Did you ever really like me or did you just want to hook up with Blake to even the score or something?” She thought she knew the answer, but she needed to hear it from him.
“You. I don’t even know Blake.” He paused to think before going on. “The more I got to know you, though, the more I liked you.” He kicked the dirt and said, “I should have known something was wrong when your sister showed up. I mean, I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t know it was that. She was wearing so much more makeup than you and acting weird. I didn’t know what was going on.” After a pause, he gave her a look of intense scrutiny. “So that’s my excuse. Do you have anything you want to tell me?”
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nbsp; Mallory couldn’t help but smile. No horseback ride to Scotland and he expected her to apologize. He was right, though. She took a breath and started in: “Yes. I’m sorry, too. I never should have lied about who I was. I should have told you the truth a lot earlier. It’s just that…I was scared of losing you.” She confessed, “I’ve never felt the way I do about you with anyone.” Ben was her first love.
Looking hopeful, Ben looked into her eyes with palpable hope. “Does that mean there’s a chance we can start over?”
She looked at Ben. It was time to put it all on the table, no more secrets. “Yeah, there’s a chance.” From her tone, it was obvious his chance was 100 percent.
A smile broke out across his face and his eyes lit up. “Really?”
She nodded, relishing how happy he was because of her.
He breathed out the biggest sigh of relief. “I’m so…”
“Happy?” she guessed.
“And relieved,” he said. “I was miserable.”
“Me, too.” It was crazy, but she’d gone from the saddest she’d ever been to skyrocketing joy in the space of ten minutes.
She looked around and realized they’d made it all the way up to a meadow. The sun had sunk almost all the way below the horizon, leaving the forest dark. Just when she was about to suggest they turn around, she took a good look at her surroundings and her breath caught. There were fireflies everywhere, flitting around the meadow like magical fairy lights. Her hand went to her mouth. “This is so beautiful.” She looked at him. “How did you know?”
“Betsy told me it was firefly season and where to find them. I knew you’d love it.”
The tears threatened to spill. He had known she’d love this more than anything, fireflies in a meadow. She wasn’t the kind of girl who wanted fancy jewelry or big nights out on the town. Fireflies in the meadow was so beautiful and perfect. He knew her.
Mallory’s eyes brimmed with tears. She always felt ridiculous crying. With her heart in her eyes, she turned to him. She knew the next part of the story by heart. This was when they kissed. Looking just about as relieved as he did happy, Ben said, “I couldn’t help but remember the poster in your bunk.”
Breaking the Rules of Revenge Page 17