“That’s not the point?—”
“Oh, my god. Everyone thinks I did this. I need to get out of here.” All my insecurities came rushing back as anxiety pounded through me, circling and taunting.
I’d been used to people making assumptions about me my whole life. Thinking I had to fit into this box or another.Breckenridges don’t do this. You can’t be like that.No one considered how those boxes could be both suffocating and confusing. I hadn’t felt that way at camp, but now it made sense.
Something crossed Jack’s face, and he looked regretful.
“Everyone thinks Gia hooked up with a random camper, Nat. Only Jamie and Autumn know who she was with. And I don’t think they hold that against you.”
“How kind of them.” My voice didn’t sound like my own.
All this time, I’d been feeling something different about my place at Starlight, about Wildwood. Maybe this wasn’t home after all.
Wasn’t that the understatement of the year? I was living out of a suitcase. I was sleeping in Jack’s bedroom, not my own. Of course, this place wasn’t mine. This was Jack’s home. Every cruel thing made sense now, and I hated it.
There was one thing I had to know. “Why didn’t you confront me?”
He touched his fingers to his temple, resigned. “What would have been the point? I was told one thing, and it turned out to be true. Most of it.”
“Not the important part.” I fought back tears as emotions swarmed me.
“Look, I didn’t realize?—”
Tears turned to anger, and I didn’t want to hear another word. “Youwantedme to be your villain. Gia left you, and you needed someone to blame. Everything makes perfect sense now. You think I seduced her? That I enticed her back to my cabin? You couldn’t be more wrong.”
Jack looked desperate. He tugged at his hair. “That’s not what I?—”
“Tell that to me six weeks ago. Better yet, don’t say anything. You have nothing to say that I want to hear.” I pulled the blanket up over my head. My heart was pounding so loud that there was nothing that could calm me. I could hear Jack moving around our room. I could feel the tension of him wanting to say something, but he didn’t. The silence was painful, and I knewjust one touch from anyone would feel like the slice of a knife. I closed my eyes, willing the hurt away. Tears slowly dripped from my eyelids.
It was in that moment that I realized he never knew me, just like everyone else.
Maybe that was for the best.
TWENTY-ONE
Jack
Before the desperateneed to get Nat out of my house consumed me, I used to think of construction and building and repairs as their own kind of peace. Being able to put things together, making something new and sound out of something nonexistent or broken. All of it was rewarding.
But right now, none of the peace I usually carried through a project was with me. Instead, a vicious countdown ticked down in my head. It was a maddening need to finish this cabin and get Nat out of my space. Today. I needed to be done.
I attacked the problem of renovating Nat’s cabin with a ferocity that almost surprised me. Ripping out the floors and taking down walls last week had been fun. Now, I was in the decidedly less-fun stage of putting it all back together again. No matter how much I pushed myself, the sweat, the back-breaking work, it didn’t feel like enough. Ideally, there would be a team helping me restore the cabin this week, but unfortunately, work commitments and life obligations had come up with my go-to crew, leaving me on my own.
I rested with my hands on my knees, taking in the space, wishing more could be done. It had been a painstakingly long project already, but due to supplier issues, there would be atleast another couple of weeks before the cabin could be finished. All the time I put in today felt as unnecessary as the anger I’d been hauling around for my roommate.
I pictured her upset face when she’d realized what I’d thought about her. How wrong I’d been.
Trying to apologize had been impossible. The words hadn’t come out right last night, and before I could get it together, she’d cut me off. I had thought the worst of her. I’d thought she’d known who I was dating at the time and that she’d just tried to act like it hadn’t happened. Like she was proud that she’d gotten away with it. And I’d been dead wrong.
So many things were coming back to me from that summer. Someone had dropped out of the last session, and when I’d told Gia, she’d jumped at the chance to visit. She’d wanted to see me, sure, but she’d also wanted to be in someone else’s pod so she could have the authentic camp experience. She’d become fast friends with Jamie, Emerson, and everyone else she’d met, and she’d told me at the first campfire how much it meant to her.
Then she’d been spotted making out with another counselor.
My blood had boiled the moment I learned about her infidelity, but now, looking back, I just felt sad. Gia and I hadn’t talked afterward, other than confirming it was over. Of course, she’d been trying to reach me sporadically over the past few weeks, but I didn’t owe her anything.
Confrontation was overrated. Gia and I hadn’t fought afterward. It just had its ending. A door that had quietly closed.
My parents had always jumped from fight to fight, and it was usually a tug-of-war between them and us kids. We’d often been encouraged to pick sides when we were younger, and as we got older, we’d found ourselves trying to keep the peace between our parents. For too many years, one would apologize to the other, they’d get back together and be happy for a few weeks, before the fighting inevitably started up again. Apologies never meantmuch, and even if they meant it at the time, placating words never stuck. When they finally gave up and got a divorce, I’d had plenty of time to see how bad relationships could be.
