“Go for a night swim, sleep it off,” I say. “This is just what Blair does—it’s not about you.”
Just like it was never about me.
I’ve had years to work through that, years to let it sink in. Seeing it happen to Matteo, though, is the thing that drives it home and makes it feel real.
Blair’s in it for the fun, for the adventure. She doesn’t want forever—not with Matteo, not with me, not with whoever Stephen is.
“Didyou make a down payment?” I ask when he doesn’t reply.
“I was about to,” he finally says. “But I was waiting for Blair to say she liked the place, and then Danica called and I came out here instead.”
“Bullet dodged, then.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Bullet dodged.”
I shove my hands in my pockets, listening to the sounds of laughter back by the campfire as Matteo’s world falls apart. He’s in his own head, though: he doesn’t notice the mosquito that lands on his arm, or the distant rumble of thunder, or Trey as he joins us on the path.
“All good over here?” Trey asks. “We were about to make s’mores and thought we’d see if y’all want any.”
“I’d love one,” I say. “Matty?”
Matteo finally looks up when I say his name, the nickname my mom gave him all those years ago when he first moved in with us. Only our family is allowed to call him that.
“Huh—oh, hey,” he replies, the blank look on his face shifting into a bright smile that only barely reaches his eyes.
That smile is second nature to him, a fake-it-till-you-make-it defense mechanism I’ve seen a number of times over the years.
“No s’mores for me, but thanks,” Matteo goes on. “Gonna go for a night swim.”
“Oh,sweet, bro!” Trey says. “The guys and I might join you if you’re up for some company.”
Matteo forces a grin, tells him maybe he’ll see them later, but I hear what he really wants to say: he’s craving alone time—time away from everyone, where it can be just him and his heartbreak, no fake-it-till-you-make-it façade required.
“I’ll be right there,” I tell Trey, who takes the hint and heads back to the others.
Matteo’s face falls as soon as it’s just us again.
“Don’t go off alone like you did earlier, okay?” I say, for his own good as much as mine; it’s not a great look for a leader to disregard the rules we put on everyone else. It wasn’t okay earlier, and it’sdefinitelynot okay now that I know what’s happened with Blair. Back when we were in high school—and early on in our college days—he got reckless whenever he was upset. I’d assumed he’d grown out of those tendencies years ago, but the look in his eye is all too familiar.
He cuts a sharp glance at me.
“Who the hell cares if I do?” he says, another challenge.
I know better than to argue with him when he’s in a mood like this.
He heads down the path toward the water without another word.
10:00 P.M. • DAY 4 • SADIE’S JOURNAL
My phone is dead, so I have no clue what time it *actually* is, but it’s dark and I’m in my tent for the night.
Today was…a lot.
It was one of those days where the good and the bad just really pressed up against each other. I’m too tired to write about everything in detail, but so I don’t forget:
Angry yoga: Zoe was in a terrible mood (bad) but Thorn made me laugh the entire time (good).
Kayaking: I successfully paddled across the lake!! (GOOD!) But ended up *in* the lake when I tried to turn (so bad). Almost got eaten alive by a snake (ALSO VERY BAD). Thorn helped me back into the kayak, and even though he was side-eyeing my outfit I could tell he liked it…and he liked how close we were (A+ would fall into a lake again just to have more moments like that one).
