‘Fine,’ she said. ‘I was fifteen and my chemistry lab partner asked me on a date. No boy had ever even looked in my direction before.’ It was weird hearing this story again, because Briar vividly remembered her stomach dropping when Alice had gushed to her during fifth period. ‘He was the school’s soccer star. Every girl had a crush on him, and so did I, because heteronormativity is a hell of a drug.’ That got her some appreciative chuckles. ‘So we went to the movies on a Friday night. Some assholes from our class were also there and gave him a hard time for being with me. I was definitely too nerdy to be on a date with a guy likethat.’
‘No kidding,’ Briar muttered into her cup. The look she received from Alice made it clear she hadn’t said it quietly enough.
‘And Noah,’ Alice continued, ‘who I had never heard utter an unkind word to anyone, politely saidfuck offand took my hand. It was the most romantic thing that had ever happened to me, up until he dropped me off at home and kissed me at the door. I was over the moon, walking on clouds the whole next day.’
Alice told the story in exactly the same way she’d told it to Briar so many years ago. It was like it had been entered as legend in her mind, untarnished and untouched. Briar wondered if other kisses received the same treatment. She thought back to the year when Noah and Alice had started dating, trying to pinpoint which moments Alice had been faking. At the time, it had seemed so real, and it had crushed Briar.
‘Bloody hell,’ Freddie said, still giggling. Briar couldn’t tell if his face was red from the cider or from the heat of the fire. ‘Can I get his number?’
‘He’s engaged,’ Briar said drily.
‘Damn, another mediocre man bites the dust,’ Sierra deadpanned, turning to Briar. ‘Your turn.’
Briar’s heart raced and she took a long sip of the cider to try to calm herself. Unlike seemingly everyone else, she didn’t feel the least bit drunk. None of the edge of the night had been taken off, and as she glanced at Alice’s profile, she wondered if any amount of alcohol could make this experience less painful. In the flickering firelight, Alice’s features were striking in their delicacy.
Briar brushed her bangs out of her face, knowing she had to lie. ‘It was with someone I barely knew… I was too drunk to really remember, I think I was seventeen or eighteen.’
‘Boooo,’ Sierra said, as Freddie gave two aggressive thumbs down and the counselors hooted with laughter. ‘Everyone remembers their first kiss.’
Briar felt suffocated by Alice’s eyes on her. ‘Fine, I remember it a bit.’ It was a night Briar hadn’t stopped replaying and rewriting for ten years. She’d tell them only what was necessary. ‘It was here, during pack out week. I was a little tipsy, and I told one of the other counselors that I was going to college never having kissed anyone.’ She chanced a glance at the faces around the fire, trying to figure out if anyone could tell that her cheeks were burning. She didn’t look at Alice. But she could picture her, all those years ago. The gleam in her eyes and the small smile playing at her lips when she had leaned in. Briar had been a mess of nerves. ‘And she kissed me, just like that. It was the last thing I’d expected to happen that night. I…’ Her throat closed up as she thought about Alice’s lips, how they’d tasted of honey. She could still feel the softness of Alice’s hair tickling her neck, the weight of her fingers against Briar’s cheek. She cleared her throat.
‘It was unexpected. And one thing led to another and eventually we were sharing a sleeping bag, out under the stars.’ She couldn’t admit out loud that none of it had felt real. Especially that Alice, the most beautiful girl she’d ever known, the one she’d been in love with for years, had wanted to kiss her. Or that kissing her had been the first time she’d ever felt alive. Briar finally glanced up, meeting Alice’s gaze, her mouth dry. ‘I mean, I was a horny teenager, what can I say?’
‘Who was she?’ Sierra asked. ‘Surely thirteen-year-old me would’ve had eyes for this mega-babe counselor.’
Briar shrugged, looking away. ‘Honestly, I have no idea who she was. I haven’t seen her since that night.’
The words came out casually, and she only half-wished she’d put some bite in them. Remembering that night also meant remembering the next morning, when Alice had barely been able to look at her. She’d said they would talk, that she just needed time to sort things out, but instead, she had gotten in her car and driven away. It wasn’t until Briar got back from camp that she learned Alice had flown to Scotland early, without even saying goodbye.
If she had known one night would ruin their whole friendship, Briar would have never asked for a kiss.
After one of the longest moments of silence Briar had ever experienced, Sierra spoke up again.
‘Spooky,’ she declared. ‘Was she a ghost? I didn’t know the camp ghost was a hot lady ghost. I always imagined a racist Confederate soldier.’
Briar took another sip of her drink. ‘She was more like a figment of my imagination, I think.’
Briar left the bonfire early, needing some time away from Alice and everyone else. She called Noah.
He answered after only one ring. ‘Hello?’
There was music playing in the background, and Briar could picture him in his kitchen cooking and drinking a glass of wine. It was the kind of night they often spent together.
‘It’s me,’ Briar said, counting the panels of wood on the wall across from her. She’d called without any real reason, had just wanted to hear his voice.
‘One sec, let me put you on speaker. Harper just got home.’
‘Oh, how was your shift?’
The music swelled for a moment before lowering again, and then Harper’s voice came through.
‘I didn’t get any bodily fluids on my scrubs, so I’m counting that as a win. But what about you? How was the first day?’
‘Good,’ Briar said automatically, though it hardly described the confusing mess of emotions she’d been feeling all day. Being back at camp was like trying to squeeze into old clothes; she was wearing a different version of herself around, one that was younger, one that longed for things that Briar had given up on years ago.
And then there was her mother, metaphorically haunting every corner of the woods.
‘Yeah?’ Noah asked, clearly not believing her.
