“You tell me.”
Ah. I see where she’s going with this. She’s literally objectifying Colton. At least, she’s attempting to mask this conversation with a branch analogy and not speaking frankly for all of America to hear.
I think of Colton in relation to this perfect branch. Sure, he may look like a promising piece of kindling that will fuel a good fire. And sure, maybe a few baby sparks flew between us last night, but in the end, I’m always left cold and alone.
If there is one thing I know for certain, it’s that I will always be an entity unto myself, and that’s how it has to be. Because though sparks may fly or people may show you you’re important to them in one moment, the next thing you know, they’re breaking your trust while simultaneously breaking your heart. I can’t go through that again. Not after Mama. Not after my aunt.
And while I’m aware that I’m royally messed up, at least I’m a mess up with my heart relatively intact.
I hear the tiny bits of kindling I’ve collected so far crunch in my hand. Quickly, I open my fist before I pulverize them into powder. “I think you made the right choice, Maria. That branch will likely not be what I want in the end.”
“Oh?” She stares, unblinking.
I meet her stare with no intention of budging on the matter. Colton and I will not be making a metaphorical fire. I walk past the perfect piece of discarded kindling and head farther up the path just to make a point.
“That’s a shame,” Maria calls from behind me. “There are not many pieces in this jungle that are that perfect.”
That makes me pivot on my good foot to face her. I open my mouth, but my words run dry. How do I explain to her that the branch she’s referring to is not the kindling that I would evenwant to build a fire with? Er, ignite? Oh goodness, I would make a terrible spy. Speaking covertly is out of my wheelhouse.
“Missy,” Maria says in a stern voice, giving me a good glimpse of what her daughter must feel like when she’s being called out.
I sigh, shoulders slumping. Maria isn’t going to back down.
I step back to her, searching my brain for “kindling metaphors,” but I come up empty-handed. How can I make Maria understand my feelings? Stopping in front of her, I pause to get my mental footing. “What if … what if I take that kindling and it doesn’t ignite? Or maybe it starts a fire, only for it to die out quickly. I’d rather not get my hopes up.”
Maria’s eyes soften. “I can understand that, but let me ask you this: Would you rather spend your whole life shivering, knowing you could be sitting in the warmth of a fire? Mija, if you give up on that kindling just because others of its kind have let you down, you’re looking at a long, cold life.” She places her hands on my shoulders. “A life with fire is a life worth living, worth pursuing, and certainly worth starting. Maybe you’ve had some bad kindling before, but what if this time it’s different?”
Now, I turn soft eyes on her. She’s trying. And I understand her need to help, to fix things. Mama used to be very much like that. I smile gently. “Thank you, Maria. We may not see eye to eye on this, but I count myself lucky to have someone who cares enough to talk to me about it.”
I think of Mama and how I used to talk to her about anything. I’d feel an entire world better after one round of no-bake chocolate cookies and a chat with her on our convertible couch table. Talking to Maria feels like that.
I rest my hand on Maria’s arm and gently squeeze, grateful that this strange conversation has brought me back to an old memory.
She drops her hands to her side. “Then I’ll offer you some last advice. Do yourself and that branch a favor and step away.”Maria gives me a warm smile like she didn’t just punch me in the gut with her tough love. “I’ll see you back at camp.”
Maria bends down and retrieves her bits of kindling from the lava rock, leaving the perfect, discarded branch in its place on the ground, then turns and walks back down the trail.
Her parting words hit me like a ton of bricks.Step away.
Step away from Colton? End this … whatever it is we have between us?
The thought alone has me reeling. Just a week ago, I thought pretending to be something more with Colton was insanity, but now the thought of going back to what we used to be leaves me dizzy.
I think of the way Colton had searched the jungle to find me, how he’d carried me around the island as my foot healed, how he made me laugh, how he made me crazy. I think of the way I’ve lived near him for so long, and how, for better or for worse, I’ve sought him out above all others. Maybe it was to tease him or to get on his nerves, but what if there was more to it? What if, all this time, there’d been something deeper to us?
“Oh, Missy Jean, this is crazy.” I look down at that perfect piece of kindling and wonder if this time it really could be different. Maybe if I give someone my heart, maybe this time, I won’t leave broken.
My emotions respond so quickly to this idea that I’m not sure what hits first—the excitement or the fear.
Because suddenly, my answer is clear. Ican’tstep away from Colton.
I pick up the perfect branch with my free hand and hold it out in front of me, lighting up inside like I never have before. I clutch it to my chest and hope beyond hope that I’m not making the wrong decision.
Chapter 20
COLTON
· DAY 15 ·
