‘Don’t talk about my mother,’ Briar snapped. All her pent-up frustration from the past few weeks rose up. It didn’t matter that Alice was being helpful now, all Briar could focus on were the times that she hadn’t been there. The years where Briar had needed to figure it all by herself. ‘Why are you even here? Out of guilt? If I absolve you, will you leave me alone?’
‘I can’t,’ Alice hissed. ‘Not if you’re going to sell the camp.’
Briar stopped rowing. ‘What?’
Alice turned fully, her expression furious. ‘Your dad said—’
‘Oh, you’re moving in on Tom now too?’ Briar cut in.
Alice glared. ‘I know about the appraisal. How could you not tell anyone? Don’t you know how many people rely on this place? This is people’s home. You can’t just get rid of it.’
Briar had the awful impulse to laugh. ‘Actually, I can. It was in my mother’s will. I can do whatever I want.’ She didn’t need to justify her actions to Alice. She knew the implications of selling the camp, and Alice had surrendered any say over her life a long time ago. Alice opened her mouth, but Briar didn’t want to hear another word.
‘Ten years, and you didn’t have the decency to reach outonce?’ It wasn’t what she had meant to say; it wasn’t where she wanted this conversation to go. She didn’t want to hear whatever explanation Alice could come up with for what she had done to Briar – nothing she could say would make it hurt any less.
‘Oh, we’re talking about this now?’ Alice’s voice dripped with sarcasm. ‘I thought we were still pretending you didn’t care.’
Briar ignored her. This was the conversation she’d played out in her head a million times but never thought she’d get the chance to have. And it was all going wrong. She was too angry; she couldn’t play it off like her life hadn’t been miserable without Alice. The words came out like vomit.
‘You completely ignore me, but not my mom? I don’t know why I’m even surprised. I’m nothing compared to your precious Susan. Ten years of emails, huh? Did you finally get the parental validation you craved?’
There was a moment where it looked like Briar had stunned Alice into silence, before she spoke again, her voice low and angry. ‘You were fine without me. You got Noah and all our friends, even fucking Harper. And I had nothing. I was completely alone. You have no idea how hard it is to see yourself replaced. You just carried on like I never existed.’
‘Noah and I bonded over the messes we were afteryouleft,’ Briar said. ‘And I’m sorry if my feelings are too much for you to handle, but’ – her voice cracked – ‘my mom got sick and you didn’t even come home. I needed you and you weren’t there. But you know who was? Harper. So don’t tell me I replaced you. You left. Was I supposed to wait for you to come back?’
‘You didn’t reach out either!’
‘Reach out?!’ Briar stood up, shouting now. ‘You kissed me and then fucked off to Scotland!’
She had only a split second to remember that they were in a canoe before she lost her balance and plunged straight into the frigid water.
In the end, they left Sierra and Freddie to bring the boat back.
There was something humiliating about having to swim the overturned canoe back to shore, dump all the water out of it, and then trudge together, completely soaked, to the director’s cabin. Briar felt like she had the morning after they’d kissed, the same nervous energy choking down anything she could have said to make it better. But now she knew she didn’t have anything to apologize for.
The cabin door slammed shut behind them, and the only sound in the still air was the faint pitter-patter of water dripping onto the hardwood floor. The sound was driving Briar crazy – or maybe the lack of sound, the apology she desperately needed not materializing from Alice’s lips – so she shucked off her shirt without thinking. It landed with athwack. Alice followed suit, long arms stretching to pull her tank top over her head. Briar blinked at her, feeling like things were moving in slow motion, reminding her of a movie or a dream. Maybe even a dream she had dreamed before.
‘I—’ Alice looked at Briar helplessly, then seemed to gain some resolve. ‘I didn’t think you still cared. About what happened.’
Briar turned, sure her face would give her away. ‘I don’t.’
Alice tutted behind her. ‘Then why bring it up?’
‘Because I was mad,’ Briar bit out, digging her nails into the flesh of her palm. The pain grounded her as she turned back to Alice. ‘My mom told you she was dying before she told me.’
‘Oh,’ Alice said. She looked like she did when solving a particularly difficult math problem. ‘But why bring up the kiss?’
‘Jesus, it’s not like I’m hung up over one lousy kiss. Sometimes I just say things. They don’t have to mean anything.’
She willed Alice to believe her. She’d said a lot of things out on the lake that she hadn’t meant to, not because they weren’t important, but because they were. Alice watched her carefully, and Briar felt like she could see right through her.
‘Like the parental validation thing?’ Alice asked, crossing her arms, which only drew Briar’s gaze to her chest. ‘Because that was uncalled for. And not true. My mom and dad have always been my biggest supporters.’
‘Sure,’ Briar said. Having met Alice’s mom and read her dad’s emails, Briar knew that wasn’t the case.
‘And those were my private emails.’ Alice’s voice was becoming more heated. ‘They weren’t for you to read.’
‘Thatwas clear.’
