She arches a brow, leaning her elbows on her knees. A small smile twists her lips.
“I dare you to tell us what happened at Hope and Mason’s wedding. Why didn’t you tell Misty you had a girlfriend? Why did you dick her over like that?”
Fuck.
This sucks more than I was anticipating.
13
Misty
I am so mad at Sadie right now. I am also kind of proud of her. This is what I came here for. I imagined it going a little differently, like not in front of other people, and not during a game of Truth or Dare. But it is what it is.
Roh referring to me as Kellin’s ex just raised a lot of old questions for me. And Sadie as well, apparently. Kellin and I never got to the dating part, but I honestly believed it was heading in that direction. I need answers so I can finally put all of this behind me, and hopefully Kellin and I can be friends and enjoy the rest of this trip.
Kellin’s eyes meet mine. He slaps his hat onto his head and stands up. “Can we take a walk?” he asks, burying his hands in his pockets. The way the light of the fire glows against his skin is breathtaking. The warm orange illumination highlights half his features, leaving the other half in shadow, mimicking the way I’ve felt about him for years. As if he’s two different personalities. A Jekyll and Hyde—the Kellin I thought I knew and the Kellin that really is. The flames kick up, lapping at the air as if they’re trying to get closer. As if they want to knock the darkness away.
I push myself up, leaving the warmth of the fire as I follow him past the tents and into the cool dimness of night.
We walk side by side in silence for several minutes. I can hear the sound of traveling water—like gushing wind though there’s very little breeze—and know instinctively we’re near a creek.
“Amanda wasn’t my girlfriend,” Kellin finally says. His voice is thick, husky. Nearly a whisper. “Not when you and I started talking again.”
This conversation is already making me feel worse. “So you started dating her after we were talking?”
It’s too dark to see his expression, but I don’t miss the way he flinches at my words. “Yes,” he admits. “But only because I misunderstood the RSVP’s.”
“What?” I pause, refusing to walk any further.
He tips his head back, staring up at the sky. I look up too and my breath catches in my throat. There are more stars than I’ve ever witnessed in my life. And they’re beautiful, but I can’t enjoy them the way I should.
“I was jealous and reacted without thinking,” he says.
He was jealous? I pull my eyes away from the sky and turn my attention to him, but he doesn’t look my way. He keeps staring at the stars.
“It was the week before the wedding,” he continues. “I went over to help Hope and Mason go through the RSVP’s for the final reception count. It was my job to mark the dinner choices from the replies.”
He sighs, finally lowering his gaze to me. “You marked a plus one. You both wanted chicken. I’ve never forgotten that. Every time I eat chicken, I think about that moment and everything that followed. Just the smell summons the memories. It’s weird the things that stick.”
“I don’t understand,” I murmur. “I brought Sadie. Why would you be jealous of her?”
He huffs out a dry laugh and shakes his head. “I didn’t know it was Sadie. Hope referred to her as your ‘other half.’ I thought you were bringing an actual date. I thought you were with someone.”
“So you asked another girl out to what? Get back at me? Try to make me jealous? Try to hurt me?”
Kellin doesn’t reply right away, but it’s written clearly all over his face. He releases a harsh breath and nods a confirmation.
“Wow. Well, you definitely did all of those things.”
“I was an asshole. I know. And I’m sorry, Misty. I’m so damn sorry and I’ve regretted it ever since.”
I take a step back. I don’t know how to respond to this. The pain and heartache flares to life as if it were yesterday. He really damaged me. It took me a long time to trust men again and believe they weren’t all going to hurt me like he did. But it was years ago—the actions of a young, stupid kid. I can see how much he regrets it. I can feel it. And it makes so much more sense than what I was coming up with all these years.
“It never made sense to me… Hope and Mason knew how much I was looking forward to seeing you and they didn’t say anything—they didn’t warn me—”
“They didn’t know,” he says, cutting me off. “I didn’t tell them Amanda was going to meet me at the reception.” He shrugs regretfully. “I never told them anything about that night.”
“But why didn’t you tell me?”
He focuses on a tree a few feet away and shakes his head slowly. “I don’t know. It didn’t matter, did it? I fucked up. I hurt you. I made you cry. Would my reasons have mattered at the time?”
“Yes,” I say resolutely. “It might not have changed anything, but at least I would have known.”
“I’m sorry,” he says again, and maybe I’m a masochist, but I believe him.
There are a ton of other choices—better, less spiteful choices—he could have made. Like asking me about my plus one instead of assuming. Or not trying to hurt me.
Knowing why he did what he did doesn’t make it better, but it helps understanding he reacted out of pain. People do absurd things when they’re hurting. And he was hurt because he really did care about me.
It’s like a weight is lifted. One I carried on my shoulders and in my heart for too long.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Am I forgiven?”
I blow out a breath and cross my arms over my chest. I kick at the grass, watching it bend with every sweep of my foot. “I’m still kind of in shock. I racked my brain, trying to figure it out for years, and it was over RSVP’s.”
“I know. I’m an ass. But I’m going to spend the next couple of weeks trying to make it up to you,” he replies seriously.
“Oh.”
“I give great back rubs. I make mean powdered eggs. And I have a lot of fun shit planned.”
“Oh,” I repeat. I’m still stuck on back rubs, wondering what all that entails.
“I remember you being more eloquent.”
“I remember you being an asshole. People change.”
He tips his head to the side, studying me. “You’ve changed quite a bit.”
“Yes, I have.” Heartbreak does that to a person. Sometimes it’s for the better, sometimes not. But nobody walks away untouched.
“I’d like to get to know the new you,” he husks. “Start over fresh. If you’ll give me the chance.”
Ever have a moment when you know you should step away and really consider all angles before making a decision? The kind of moment when you’re fully aware you should weigh your words carefully because you know you can’t take them back?
I know I’m having that moment right now.
I know my next words should be: Kellin, I have a boyfriend, and after this summer, I’m going to go home and I’m going to marry him.
I know it, but that’s not what comes out. Instead, my heart kicks my brain’s ass and I say, “I’d like that too. A lot.”
14
Kellin
We make our way back to the campsite, our feet crunching over dried pine needles. A part of me wants to keep walking with Misty. I’m not ready to hang out with other people yet. Having explained and apologized, I feel free. New. Reborn. It’s a fresh start. And all I want is to stretch this moment out as long as I possibly can. But I have to address the question lingering in my mind.
“What Sadie said earlier,” I say breaking our quiet retreat. “About drinking… Is that true?”
Misty bends down, scooping up a pinecone. She rolls it gently between her palms. “It’s actually a funny story,” she replies.
I cock an eyebrow, surprised. “Care to share?”
She laughs, tossing the pinecone to the ground. “After I saw yo
u with that girl—Amanda?”
She pauses, waiting for me to confirm. I nod tightly, not sure I really want to hear this now. But I asked. If it’s a little difficult to listen to, I deserve that.
“I was upset and pissed off, and a lot of different emotions that didn’t even make sense at the time. I didn’t want to miss the reception, but I wasn’t in the mood to really have fun, either. Sadie and I found a table away from everyone else and…”
She trails off, a smile lifting her lips. I have no idea what she’s going to say next, but she has my full attention. I know whatever’s coming is going to be good based on her expression alone. A mix of humor and guilt. That combination always guarantees greatness is coming.
“We were kind of people watching, re-voicing conversations from our corner in the back of the room.”
“What kind of things were you saying?” I ask, smirking. She and I used to do that with Hope and Mason. It was fun as hell because they unknowingly provided us with hours of entertainment.
“I don’t remember,” she says a little too quickly. “It was a long time ago.”
“I don’t believe you, but I’m not sure I want to hear that part now anyway.” I gesture at her to continue her story.
“We were sitting there, talking and I was actually laughing even though I was completely miserable—”
Misty cuts herself off, looking at me apologetically. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad.”
I reach for her, grasping her wrist. She stops, her eyes falling to my hand before flicking up to my face. “I know you’re not,” I assure her. “It’s fine. It’s just part of the story.”
Her skin is soft and cool. It feels good against my hand. Even though I don’t want to—even though it’s almost painful—I release her arm and we fall back into step.
I don’t know what’s going through her head right now, but her silence is killing me. She looks lost, confused. I don’t know if she’s trying to find her place in the story or if there’s something else going on in her head.
“Anyway,” she continues slowly. “We were sitting there, talking, and I hear giggling coming from under our table.” The smile returns to Misty’s face and I mimic it, relieved to see her looking happy again.
“Sadie and I pulled up the table cloth and found the twins laying on the floor. Drunk.”
“What?” My pace falters, shocked. “They were drunk?”
“Shit faced,” she confirms with an exaggerated nod. “They had a few Jell-O shots under the table with them. Apparently they didn’t understand there was alcohol in them.”
“Holy shit. How old were they then? Seven, right?”
“Yes.” She laughs again, tears forming in the corners of her eyes, and I’m not sure which is funnier—her recounting or her own reaction to it. “I took them over to Jenny, literally dragging Amy because she could barely walk. They only had a few, but they were seeing pink elephants.”
“How did I miss that?” As soon as I say it, I realize how. Because I had my mouth fused to Amanda all night. “What did they do—Jenny and Alec?” I ask, detouring from my previous question.
“They made them eat and kept an eye on them. The twins were fine after they got some food in them. Although they thought they were the best dancers ever, typical drunken behavior.
“Dad told me to get rid of the rest of the Jell-O shots. So I did. Sadie and I took Archer and Amy’s place under the table and finished them off. It made me feel better at the time, but the next day sucked. I’ve learned how to prevent hangovers since, thank goodness.”
Guy almost died in a drunk driving accident when he was in high school. It was a close call, and she swore she would never drink. To know all that conviction was lost because of something I did makes me feel like shit all over again.
“I truly am sorry,” I say.
She puts her hand up, silencing me. “I’ve already forgiven you. That means you can’t keep apologizing.”
I smile weakly. “Okay.”
15
Misty
Day Three
“Why do you need to know?” Kellin asks after Sadie insists on hearing about each past girlfriend that earned him the title of Jimmy Neutron—the boy (not-so) genius.
“I don’t need to know,” she clarifies, her speech slightly slurred. “I just want to. You were the one who said we’re supposed to talk. So talk.”
After another full day of hiking, we came back to camp and started drinking right away, hoping to numb our aching muscles. Sadie may have had a few more than me. Or anyone else for that matter.
I’m hoping the alcohol also helps keep me warm tonight. Sadie made good on her promise, refusing to share her sleeping bag with me. I’ve been curling up beside her once she falls asleep, but I still spend most of the night shivering. I’m exhausted from my growing lack of sleep.
Of course, if she gets wasted enough tonight, she might just let me share with her. She’s always so much sweeter when she’s had a few drinks.
“You want the list?” Kellin clarifies, stirring me from my thoughts. He rubs the back of his neck, the gesture making it clear he’s uncomfortable discussing the subject, which is probably why Sadie pushes it.
Though this trip began a little shaky, it’s definitely getting better now. Easier, I guess.
“There’s a list?” She nods enthusiastically. “Hells yeah, I want the list.”
“All of them? Ever?”
Sadie cocks her head to the side, contemplating. Roh discreetly holds up ten fingers, wiggling them for extra emphasis. “Just ten?” she says, but it sounds more like a question.
Roh bites his lip ring and shakes his head, flashing the ten fingers again.
“Oh, your top ten? No. Worst ten?”
Kellin’s brows shoot up. He twists around in his seat, trying to figure out what Roh is doing to cause Sadie’s indecisiveness, just in time to catch him throwing up jazz hands and spirit fingers all at once.
Roh drops his arms, his palms slapping his legs loudly. “Start in tenth grade,” he sighs dramatically. And then he flashes an evil smile Kel’s way. “When you lost your virginity.”
Kellin sloshes his hand through the cooler, the few remaining beer bottles now floating in the melted ice. “Then I need another drink first. And if I’m sharing my first-time story, then we all are.”
“Ninth grade, in my basement, with Harley Harrison,” Sadie ticks off without a second thought. You have to love the candidness of an inebriated woman.
“That doesn’t count,” Roh says flatly.
“Oh, it counted,” she says, “trust me. I was sore for a week.”
“No.” He chuckles. “You can’t just present it like a game of Clue. That’s not fun. We need details.”
Sadie bites her lip drawing Roh’s attention directly to her mouth. This isn’t the first time I’ve noticed this. It’s not the second or the third, either. For a guy who’s supposed to be gay, he seems to really appreciate Sadie’s mouth.
And chest.
And ass.
There are actually very few parts of her body he hasn’t openly admired since she joined us on this trip.
“Okay,” she agrees.
Roh sits up, crossing his legs underneath him and tucking his fists beneath his chin. Despite his large size, he looks like a little kid at circle-time, anticipating a good story.
“Harley was a junior, I was a freshman,” Sadie begins. “We were going out for two months when he started using the blue-ball-plea—”
Roh holds up his hand, halting the story. “Define ‘blue-ball-plea.”’
“When a guy claims he’s going to lose his dick and balls because he hasn’t gotten off in so long.” She follows this up with a wink.
Roh grins back at her. “That’s what I thought. I’ve used that a few times. Carry on.”
Sadie and Roh together and drunk are the best form of entertainment. My own personal comic relief.
“Harley started claiming he’d never father childr
en,” she goes on. “So I finally agreed to have sex with him. My parents were home, so we went to the basement—”
“I’m sorry,” Roh interrupts. He holds up his hand apologetically. “Are we talking like a creepy, musty basement full of spiders and cobwebs, or was it a nice, warm, finished basement?”
“Finished. It was the rec room.” She pauses, anticipating another question from Roh.
“Define rec room. Like as in leather sofa and big screen TV or game room?”
Sadie presses her lips together, her fingers working on peeling the label from her bottle.
“I’m just trying to get a clear image,” Roh adds.
“Game room. We did it on the pool table. It hurt. And after, Harley and I played a game of air hockey. I won, but he never lost the big, ridiculous smile on his face. It took me a couple more times before I was able to enjoy it and smile like that.”
“You didn’t get off?” Roh asks, his earlier excitement gone. “That’s a terrible story.”
Sadie shrugs. “Most girls don’t their first time.”
“Did you?” Roh asks, shifting his attention to me.
Well this is bullshit. I thought we were supposed to hear about Kellin’s exes. How did I get pulled into this?
Roh grins, eating up my uncomfortable silence. He rubs his hands together and turns to face me straight on. “This is going to be good, I can tell. Spill it.”
“I didn’t get off my first time.”
“And…?”
“His name was Ryan James. We met at orientation freshman year of college.”
“Two first names?” Roh scoffs. “He’s a douchebag.”
I try not to smile and fail. Ryan kind of is a douchebag, but it’s crazy Roh can so easily pick up on that. “You’re basing that on his name?”
“Yes,” he replies evenly.
“Was he?” Kellin asks. My gaze flicks his way. His green eyes skim over my features attentively, waiting for my response. There’s an intensity in his stare that makes my stomach clench.
I lean against the tree, running my fingers over the soft needles overhead. The bark is rough against my back, poking me through my thin shirt. I focus on all these sensations, trying to stifle the stir of emotion Kellin’s careful attention is creating.