If I hadn’t already had a big hopeless crush on Devin, that alone might’ve been enough to seal it.
“I’ll find you the rest of the poem later,” I promised, pulling back out onto the road.
* * *
I still didn’t knowwhether I was supposed to reach out to Devin or not, how he wanted me to act in public with him, how he wanted me to act inprivate, anything.
Things had changed in some tiny, subtle way.Thatwas obvious, but what I was meant todoabout it wasn’t.
“The lovebirds return,” Brad said as Devin and I got out of the van once we made it back to the cabin site.
Chris and Marta were hunched over the fire pit that was positioned right in the center of the courtyard our four cabins shared, Julia studying Alex's palm, pointing things out on it while he nodded.
The back of my neck itched as blood rushed to my cheeks, but the way Devin said it made it sound like the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him.
Brad raised an eyebrow. “Poetry?”
“Yeah,” Devin said, straightening his shoulders. “Poetry.”
“That’s kinda hot,” Alex called from where he was sitting with Julie. “How come you never recite poetry for me?” he asked Chris.
Chris looked up, shooting a glance at me, then Devin, and then finally Alex.
“I can recite poetry,” he said, passing the matches to Marta, who seemed to have a better grasp of how to actually start a fire.
Chris seemed like the kind of person who started them accidentally more often than deliberately.
Alex looked at him, expectant.
“There once was a man from Nantucket,” Chris began, grinning broadly as he took a breath to continue.
“Stop,” Alex called out. “I’ve changed my mind.”
Julie burst into giggles, setting everyone off until we were all laughing—all except Brad, who looked on at us like we were all wayward children and he was the only real adult.
“I’m gonna put groceries away,” Devin said, looking up at me. “Coming?”
I nodded, following him to the van and the few bags of groceries we’d grabbed.
“I got these for you,” Devin said, pulling out a bag of giant marshmallows. “Because you’re a giant marshmallow.”
I raised an eyebrow, but I knew exactly what he meant. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Devin insisted, beaming at me and putting the marshmallows aside. “I’m not taking that back, it’s true. You’re like a giant toasted marshmallow. You look kind of scary at first glance, but once you get past the surface you’re all gooey and soft and sweet.”
“Your toasted marshmallows are scary?” I asked.
Devin shrugged. “I like to set them on fire and let them burn out. Anything less than cremated is undercooked.”
I laughed. “More of a medium-rare guy myself.”
“I’ll keep that in mind for later,” he said.
“You mean you’ll set my marshmallows on fire so you can eat them?”
“That’s pretty much what I mean,” Devin confirmed, putting milk away in the little fridge we had in the cabin. “Don’t worry, I got a ton of them, we won’t run out.”
I put a hand in the bag to help, and pulled out…
