“Are you… mad at Maverick?”
I think about my answer for a moment before I respond. Maverick was the first one to own up to what they did being wrong, but it seemseasier to be mad at him when I’ve already forgiven Maxwell. If I can forgive him, why can’t I forgive his friend too? Maybe I’m too caring or too understanding or too lenient, but thinking about it, I don’t have enough energy in me to be angry with Maverick.
“No. I’m not,” I admit and it’s the truth.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, Maxwell, I’m sure.”
“Are you ever going to stop calling me Maxwell?”
“Maybe.”
“You called me Max last night.”
“We should go,” I say instead, ignoring that statement. Maxwell nods, opening the door for me.
Chapter 20
Maxwell
Four weeks later
“There’sonlytwoweeksleft before we go off into the real world,” Mav says. He isn’t one to be nervous, but I can hear the fear in his voice.
“Is it crazy to say I don’t want this to end? That I’m kind of scared to… I don’t know, continue to the next steps?” I ponder out loud.
“I don’t think so. I’m feeling the same way, man,” Dax agrees.
“You all are a bunch of wimps,” Mav’s sister, Mae, comments.
“You’ll be here one day, scared of the future, too,” Mav says. “All we have is the summer and then it’s over. We work for the rest of our lives until we die. Alone.”
“Speak for yourself, Mav. I’m not alone,” I correct. As if on cue, Clayton walks up behind me.
“Why aren’t you alone?” He asks, coming around to sit on the couch beside me. We’re in the woods, as usual.
“Mav said we are all going to die alone,” I explained. “Clearly, I am not alone.”
“If I die first, you’d die alone.”
“Aw, you think we’re going to be forever?” I tease.
“I don’t know, anything can happen,” he smirks.
“Get a room,” Mav interjects before sticking his tongue out and a finger in his mouth with a gagging noise.
“You’re just jealous,” Dax chips in.
Everyone goes on, talking among themselves about mundane things. Wishes for the summer, last hoorahs. Plans for the last couple of weeks.
“My parents are renting an Airbnb down here. They’ll get here tomorrow morning. I was thinking we could have dinner with them? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable having to meet them for the first time at camp.” Clayton says to me, more quiet so the others can’t hear.
“Oh, thank god,” I murmur.
The last few weeks the thought of meeting his parents has been driving me insane. I’m scared to meet them because what if they see right through the nice guy act and can read into me?
What if they realize I’ve never been with a guy before and they judge me for taking my first and only shot on their son? What if they hate me? What if they think I’m privileged like he did?
