by Anna Katmore
“So you chose a side.”
“So I chose a side…” My voice is low and edged with remorse.
“Was it her idea or yours to tell everyone at the end of the summer that I was a creepy stalker who tried to get into your pants?”
Hers. “Does it still matter?”
He snorts. “Probably not.”
Choosing Lesley wasn’t the worst decision of my life, because she’s become a true friend over the years and, once Brinna was accepted too, the four of us were an inseparable group all through high school. We did unforgettable things and have tons of stories to tell.
I only wish there’d been another way.
Justin steers us toward the playground, where he sits down on the roped edge of a giant circle swing. On good days, this thing is packed with ten kids or more. Alone in it, Justin looks lost, like a single grape on a huge plate. His gaze travels up my body as I stand in front of him and stops when it reaches my eyes. “Thank you,” he says then with candid vigor.
“What for?”
“For finally being honest with me.”
I expel a long breath and settle down beside him, reclining on the net inside the rope circle. Who would have thought the swing was actually this cozy? Almost like a hammock. Hands laced on my stomach, I study the thousand stars in the sky.
Moments later, Justin makes himself comfortable beside me, propped up on one elbow and gazing down at me. “How does the story about your dates and the pretend sex go on?”
Ooh, someone’s curious. “There isn’t much more to tell, really. When the guys heard from Jake that I was an easy lay, they came running to my door.” I start to sway my dangling legs to get the swing gently rocking. “Suddenly, I was at the top of the list of hot chicks and everybody wanted to go out with me. It didn’t make me change my mind, though. So when they didn’t get what they thought was part of the deal, their pride was too hurt to tell the truth. You know, none of them wanted to be the first to swing and miss with me, so each of them spread their own story. And I just never refuted them.” Only moving my eyes, I cut Justin a meaningful glance. “It took quite a while for me to get over you and start to really date other guys again. By that time, you hated me, and we hadn’t spoken in over a year.”
He gives me a long, scrutinizing look.
“Penny for your thoughts?” I ask with a helpless smile.
To my disappointment, he slowly shakes his head. Then he startles me by taking my hand and lifting it into the moonlight. With his thumb, he gently brushes over my nails. “No fancy polish? That’s new.”
Subtle subject change, Andrews. I laugh. “Yeah. Strange, isn’t it?”
“No. I’ve never liked painted nails on a girl. You’re a lot prettier this way.” He puts my hand back on my stomach, then rolls onto his back and angles one arm behind his head. For minutes on end, we’re enveloped by complete silence. From a position like this, with a stunning view of the universe, it’s easy to feel apart from the world and leave all the tiny troubles that follow us around every day far behind. I can finally take a real deep breath and feel totally free.
“It’s getting late. Do you want to go back?” Justin asks a little while later, his voice soft and comforting.
“No.” It’s far too beautiful. “Mind if we keep lying here for just another moment?”
He doesn’t reply. But he doesn’t get up, either.
*
Slowly, I open my eyes, surfacing from a beautiful dream. I’m wrapped in a cozy blanket, comfortable and warm. Ten feet away from my face, a squirrel zooms up a tree then disappears in the sea of leaves. Dawn is breaking, and everything around me smells of new morning and Justin.
I want to crawl deeper under the cover, but it proves impossible, because someone’s arm is wound around me on top of it. Carefully lifting my head, I check out where I am and what kind of blanket this is. Turns out it’s a black hoodie, draped over my shoulders and torso. The person attached to the arm is spooning me.
“Justin?” I whisper.
“Hm?” His voice strong and clear behind me, he must have been awake for a while.
“What time is it?”
He lifts his arm that rested above my head on the swing to glance at his watch. “Ten to six.” His hand drops back to the net.
I take a deep breath, inhaling the heady scent coming from his hoodie. “You tucked me in?”
“Yeah. A few hours ago you started to shiver and your feet came hunting for shelter.” When I wiggle my toes to find out where they are actually tucked away, because they feel so warm, he chuckles and lifts his top leg. He’s been keeping my feet between his thighs for God knows how long.
“You could have just woken me up to go back,” I argue.
“Yes.”
Yes? That’s his entire answer? “Why didn’t you?”
When he speaks next, I can clearly make out the smirk in his voice. “Because you don’t wake a girl when she mumbles your name in her sleep.”
“Omigosh…” I should escape from his embrace immediately and run away. But I don’t—because he can’t see my bright red face. Squeezing my eyes shut, a whine escapes me. “Please say I didn’t!”
Instead he teases me, “Dream anything nice?”
Burning from the inside out, I wish the ground would swallow me up.
Chapter 17
Justin
“The heck I will tell you.” Chloe eases out from under my arm and climbs off the swing, then turns around and sticks her tongue out.
That’s okay. My name and a sigh from her lips while she slept told me enough. I snicker as I get up, too, and then drape my hoodie, still warm, around her shoulders. Face lowered and hiding a grin, she accepts it without complaint.
Everyone is still in bed and the woods are quiet as we walk around the lake. A cloud of morning fog floats above the water, obscuring the sun. At this time of the day, it creates a surreal ambience, almost like a door into another world. The peace of the moment is infectious and encouraging, and I wonder if Chloe and I can pick up where we left off yesterday.
“Last night, I wanted to ask you something,” I tell her, “but you’d already fallen asleep.”
“Oh yeah?”
“About your phone.”
She bites her lip, sliding a guilty sideways glance to me.
“Lesley said you had a way to talk to your friends. But all the cells are still locked away in the office—I checked yesterday while everyone was at dinner.” My head tilted, I fix her with a curious stare. “How are you talking to your friends?”
“This would be the second secret I tell you within twelve hours.” She pokes me in the ribs with her elbow and laughs. “You’re stretching it, Andrews.”
“Come on, do tell. This time, I’ll tell you a secret of mine in return.”
Pursing her lips, she studies me for a second. “You swear?” Oh yeah, that totally got her hooked.
I lift my right hand. “Scout’s honor.”
“All right.” She stretches her arms in the air then lets them swing by her sides and faces me to walk backward. Her mouth stretches into a grin. “What you locked away last week is an old phone from Brinna’s little sister.”
My eyes widen with surprise. “And yours?”
“Still safe and sound in my room.”
Sucking on my teeth, I cast her an impressed smirk. “You little witch.”
Chloe innocently bats her lashes at me, then she falls back into pace at my side. “Are you mad at me?” Her voice is small, as if my reaction really matters to her.
I wait a couple of moments, enjoying keeping her on edge. But then I tell her, “No,” and she expels a relieved sigh.
“Good. So it’s your turn now,” she giggles. “What’s your secret?”
Without a word, I reach into the pocket of my jeans and fetch my own cell, holding it out to her.
Her brows shoot up, her chin smacking down toward her chest. Then she starts laughing so hard that the birds in the trees around us flutt
er up in agitated excitement. “And you just called me a witch! Looks like I’m not the only one who can’t go half a summer without any contact with civilization.”
She’s right, to some extent. I did call my brother the other day, and I had a couple chats with Chris Donovan on WhatsApp. But that’s not the reason I kept my phone. “How stupid would it be to lock all the phones away in the back of beyond with thirty accident-prone kids around? You know how long it would take to get one and make a life-saving call?”
She contemplates that for half a minute then nods. “Good point.” Mischief creeps into her eyes next. “Good to know they don’t only teach you worthless crap at teaching school.”
“Maybe I should teach you a lesson by helping you to another bath in the lake,” I taunt her and, with one arm wrapped around her waist, pull her closer to the shore.
Giggles erupt from her chest like a volcano with hiccup as she wiggles out of my grip. I chase her, but then movement at the other side of the lake makes me stop. Barely visible through the fog, someone’s jogging through the underbrush. “Is that Grey?” I whisper, getting Chloe’s attention in an instant.
She tracks my gaze across the mist-covered water. “Yeah, I think so.”
My roomie’s probably looking for me because I didn’t get back to the cabin last night. He doesn’t seem to notice us over here. I suck in a lungful of air to call out to him, but no sound comes out because Chloe claps her hand over my mouth and pulls me down to squat behind a bush.
“What?” I chuckle when she releases my mouth.
She’s in my face, her eyes wide with excitement. “Do you think he’s going to meet Julie before breakfast?”
That could be another reason for his early excursion. A smirk tugs hard on my lips, instantly mirrored on Chloe’s conspiratorial face. Waggling my brows, I nod in the direction of the path Greyson took. Like the weasels we are, we scurry off after him together.
She can hardly contain her giggles when it becomes clear that Grey is heading to the girls’ campsite. We give him a small head start then sneak forward to the next tree, behind which we wait another few seconds. At the line of trees surrounding the girls’ cabins, he stops and scans the place. We stay behind in the cover of a hazelnut bush.
“Oh! Oh! Oh my God!” Chloe grabs my arm, shivering with excitement as she points toward the Squirrel cabin. Julie stands on the porch and waves at Greyson when she sees him. He beckons her with a quick nod, after which Julie tiptoes down the front steps and scuttles over to him.
“What are they talking about?” Chloe hisses. Her breath tickles my ear.
“I don’t know. I can’t hear anything if you aren’t quiet.”
She grunts and then ducks low to scoot farther on when Grey and Julie disappear into the woods behind the cabins. Hooking my fingers into the waistband of her jeans, I pull her back. At her sharp look over her shoulder, I suggest, “Perhaps we should stay here and give them some privacy.”
“Are you crazy? We’re this close”—she indicates an inch between her thumb and index finger—“to finding out what’s going on. I’m not going to stop here.”
To me it’s pretty obvious what’s going on, but no one can stop this tank engine on a mission, so I follow her quietly. We find the other two in a clearing a short distance away. They’re facing each other but with an odd distance between them.
“Why do they look like they’re going to fight each other?” Chloe whispers with audible disappointment in her voice as I lower beside her and spy through the bushes. “Damn, is martial arts the new dating?”
They do look awkward, but I don’t think it’s a battle we’re going to watch.
“Are you ready?” Julie asks Grey, who nods with a big smile in return. “Okay, then let’s start with the sun salutation today. Bring your hands in front of your chest to prayer pose.”
Sun salutation? Prayer pose? What the hell is going on?
“Now stretch your back, lift your arms, and relax your shoulders.” Julie does everything she says, her face tilted upward, her eyes closed. Greyson mirrors her every movement, if not with the same floating ease. “Bring your hands down to your feet, your fingers aligned with your toes. Then move one leg back as far as you can into equestrian pose. Rest your knee on the ground.”
And then I get it. They’re doing—
“Yoga?” Chloe blurts out, rising to her feet and stomping out of the bushes. Julie and Grey jerk out of their peaceful positions, jumping back in horror at her approach, and I clap my hands over my face, cutting a frustrated glance toward the sky.
Standing with her fists to her hips like a four-year-old complaining about spinach for dinner, Chloe scowls at the two of them. “You’re doing freaking yoga? And you couldn’t tell us that?”
“What in the world are you doing here?” Julie squeaks.
“Spying on you, of course. You didn’t give us any other choice.”
When Greyson gulps, it sounds like he swallowed a bird. “Us?”
I guess that’s my cue. Thank you, Chloe. Shamefaced, I stand up and join them in the clearing. “Sorry, guys.” Rubbing my neck, I can’t even bear to look at them. “I tried to stop her, but she didn’t get enough sleep last night and went a little crazy.” When I look up, I don’t know whose face is redder, Greyson’s or mine. “But we’ll leave you alone, so you can continue your…sun…”—I point both hands at the ground between them, then ball them to fists and bite my tongue when I can’t recall the right term—“…whatever.” Taking a step toward Chloe, I grab her hand. “Come on, tiger.”
Her bare heels dig into the ground. “No,” she protests with a frown before spinning back to Julie. “First I want to know why you tried to keep this a secret!”
“Because—because—” Grey stammers, looking helpless and lost.
Julie stops him with a touch to his shoulder. “Because he was afraid his brother would find out and taunt him about it.” She rolls her eyes when Greyson’s looking the other way. “Yoga apparently isn’t such a cool thing.”
“Dude,” Chloe addresses Greyson directly now. “Whatever is the cure for smoking and helped you find this pretty new face is cool.” She points a reprimanding finger at him. “And if Collin’s going to mock you about it, you might just want to remind him that you’re only here to hold his hand.”
A slow grin appears on his face. Hearing her approval must do something for him. Since the situation seems under control again, I wrap my arm around Chloe’s waist and don’t give her a chance to refuse me a second time. We’ve disturbed them long enough. “See you later, guys.”
I drag her behind me out of the woods, ignoring her annoyed grunts. Back at the girls’ campsite, I lift her up and dump her butt on the edge of the picnic table, then I lower onto the bench and bury my face in my folded arms on the tabletop. I need a break.
From the sound of it, Chloe slides down on the other side and sinks onto the opposite bench. Lifting my head only halfway, I peer over my forearms. Elbows propped on the table, she has her pouting face cupped in her palms, the too-long sleeves of my black hoodie pulled over the heels. The look of a sulking child suits her astoundingly well. “Yoga. Can you believe it?” she moans. “I totally thought they had a thing going on.”
Cracking a smile, I reach out and nudge her nose. “Buck up, kiddo. You’ve got other things to worry about today, don’t you?”
Her brows knit together even more, tempting me to smooth the crinkles with my thumb. “What do you mean?”
“Romeo and Juliet?”
“Jeez!” Her head snaps up, all signs of disappointment instantly wiped from her face. “Rehearsals! I’ve still got so much to prepare.”
A soft chuckle rocks my chest. “Welcome back to grown-up land.”
In a rush, she climbs off the bench and dashes away toward her cabin. Moments later, my hoodie lands in a puddle of fabric on the table. “Thank you!” Those are her last words before the door slams shut. And gone is the spitfire.
*
>
Ninety-five degrees’ worth of sweat coats me. I pull off my muscle shirt and wipe my face on it, calling the game. Even with Kristina, who has no talent for basketball whatsoever, we narrowly won this match. Time for a cool-down in the lake.
Giving the kids playing in the water with a ball near the shore a wide berth, I swim a couple of laps. Chloe took over lake-watch almost an hour ago, but if I drowned from a cramp in my leg right now, I bet she wouldn’t even notice. She’s been absorbed in her notebook ever since she came to the lake after lunch, taking avid notes or, when temporarily not, chewing on the end of the pencil and winding strands of her ponytail around her finger.
I shake the water out of my hair and pad back onto land, slumping down beside her in the grass. “What’s this?” I demand, leaning over to catch a glimpse of her chaotic scribbles. Some drops of water slide down from my face and dribble onto her pages.
“No! Go away,” she whines, pushing against my shoulder and dabbing at the dark spot. “You’re getting it all wet.” While she crosses something out with tiny, fast strokes, she adjusts the strap of her red top with the other hand and folds her legs Indian-style to rest the notebook on them and jot down new stuff.
“What are you doing? Rewriting Romeo and Juliet?”
“It’s my assessment of the rehearsal. I need to assign the right role to each actor.”
I sit watching her for twenty seconds, already bored. “Are you going to do this all day?”
“I’ll do it as long as it takes.”
The woman can’t even look up at me. She was definitely more fun when we were chasing Grey and Julie in the woods this morning.