Page 23 of Meet Me Back Here

My throat burns, and I know tears are gathering in my eyes. I feel so stupid. Stupid for thinking Hallie was my friend. Stupid for thinking it’d be ok. Stupid for caring what those girls think…

Forrest doesn’t seem to think it’s stupid though.

“That’s a real shit day,” he says, nodding with every word. My head snaps up to look at him.

“Forrest!” I scold before an uncontrolled giggle explodes out of me. Using words like that is usually against Mom’s rules, and I’ve never heard him say one before. I bet they’re against his mom’s rules too. “What did you just say?”

“That you had a shit day,” Forrest repeats. I think he’s trying to shock me into a better mood. “Because you did. And I’m really sorry. It has to feel pretty terrible to be singled out. They treated you badly, and it’s ok to be upset about it.”

He slides his hand over mine and unwraps my shoelace. The tip of my finger was turning purple, but I hadn’t noticed.

Just like that, Forrest makes it so I don’t feel so stupid anymore.

“I did have a shit day.” I try to say it as casually as he did, but I end up whispering the word and laughing some more. “Don’t tell my mom,” I hastily add.

“You know I won’t,” he says, and I do. “And I can help you practice running if you want to⁠—”

“I really don’t,” I cut in. I have no urge to become a runner. The laughter from the girls earlier rings in my ears. “Maybe just a little…”

Forrest’s mom calls him from their back door, telling him it’s time to wash up for dinner, and I’m grateful. I don’t need Forrest to try to give me makeup tips next. But maybe I could ask his sister Ashley sometime.

“Thanks, Forrest. For offering to help and for listening,” I say as I pick up our popsicle sticks.

“Always,” he says and climbs down the ladder first.

“Bullies are cowards. You know that, right?” Forrest asks when I step off the ladder beside him.

“I do,” I say, kicking some damp dirt at the base of the tree with my toe. And I do. Mom and Dad have told me before. It doesn’t make me feel better right now though.

Forrest touches my arm, so I look at him again.

“Cam, you’re pretty just the way you are,” Forrest says before turning and heading back to his house.

Just like that, my day turns around.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

we will not be an only one bed trope

PRESENT

Well, shit.

“What kind of upgrade downgrades the number of beds?” I ask, storming into the bedroom and opening the closet door like I’ll find a second mattress hiding inside. “I definitely had a room with two beds before and confirmed it when I added you.”

The bed looks like a king, and I know I’d be completely safe sleeping beside Forrest, but with our history, with Bridget, with feelings, I just can’t. We can’t.

I’ve been very careful since we resumed our friendship to ensure I never crossed any line with Forrest. I had my chance. I blew my chance up. I don’t get another one.

He’s never given any indication he felt any different, steadily dating over the last year and encouraging me to do the same. He even offered to set me up on a blind date with one of the architects at the firm he works at. With how adamant he was that we’d hit it off, he basically built a brick boundary between us.

Message received. I understand our ship has sailed. This tiny sliver of my brain seems to be the only party that doesn’t understand that. Or maybe it’s my hormones.

I just hope he knows that I know where we stand, and I would never do anything like this on purpose to try to trap him.

“Cam, it’s o—” Forrest starts, reaching for me, but I cut him off. His hand drops.

“I’ll fix this. Don’t worry.” Ironic thing to say considering how much I’m worrying. “I’ll fix this.”