She chuckles. “No, dear.”
“Shit,” I whisper under my breath.
“What did he do?”
I go still for a second before starting to unwrap and break more bars. “Who?”
“Eric.”
“He didn’t do anything.”
Mabel smiles in that knowing way that she has—that she’s always had. “If you say so.”
“Why would you think that?”
She rolls her eyes now. “The rest of us aren’t stupid, Persephone. And I saw you two when you were together the last time. You’ve been attacking those chocolate bars like a woodpecker in heat, so I know you’ve got your bug up about something. All your campers sing your praises, and so do the other counselors. But I see the way you and Eric look at each other. He did something. You don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to, but it’s a simple process of elimination.”
I gape at her. There’s a reason that Mabel is still here. She’s the witch, fairy godmother, and loving grandmother of Red Rock Summer Camp all rolled into one. “He didn’t do anything,” I whisper. “I did something. Or I let it happen.”
“I see you took your cryptic pill today,” she says.
“It’s complicated, Mabel.” I drop the chocolate and sit on a stool across from her.
She smiles a little half smile like the fucking Mona Lisa. “In my experience dear, nothing is actually that complicated. People say it’s complicated when it involves something that they don’t want to face. Either about themselves or about someone else. So, which is it for you?”
Fuck, I hate that she’s right. But in this case, I don’t want to face things about me, Eric, or Leena. “Is it okay that it’s both?”
“Yes. As long as you know the real reason.”
I sigh. “Okay but is it wrong if I don’t want to deal with it?”
“Not necessarily. Nobody likes discomfort. But is it going to be better in the long run if you get it over with?”
There’s no telling. Because it could go either way. “I honestly don’t know.”
“Then is it better in the long run to know or to ignore it and just attack chocolate?”
I make a face at her. “I hate you and your logic.”
Mabel grins. “Me and my logic have survived worse. Why don’t you go and see if they need any help with the fire? We’re almost done yet and we’re about to start.”
“Okay.” I hop off the stool and head to the door, but she calls after me before I reach it.
“Seph?” I turn and look. “For what it’s worth? Not knowing will always be an open wound.”
I press my lips together, flexing and clenching my hands. I was afraid of that. “Thanks, Mabel.”
“Any time.”
The bonfire is a hit. For sure. All the kids are enjoying themselves, and everyone is being a good sport about some of the silly games that we’ve decided to play—even the troublemakers.
You can have s’mores any time you want to, but there’s something about making them at an actual campfire with friends that creates something truly special. They taste different. Like magic. My hands itch for a pen to write down the words flowing in my head, but I force it away. I gave up that habit a long time ago. The only reason it’s surfacing at all is because I’m here.
The bonfire is by no means small, although the first one is always the smallest of the summer, because the base of this fire serves as the base off all the rest of them. Building and building until the last night of camp where it’s a blue so big the counsellors have water and fire extinguishers stashed within easy reach.
That first summer with Eric, the final bonfire was eventful. I wonder if this one will be too.
“You know,” one of the male counselors says. “It’s a pity we don’t have anyone to play music. I thought Joey would be back this year with his guitar.”
There’s a chorus of agreement from both the staff and the campers because it’s true. Having music here right now would be perfect. And there’s one person that I know still has a guitar. I spotted it in his cabin after we had sex.
Glancing across the fire I make eye contact with Eric and raise my eyebrows. “We do have someone who can play…” I say, and all eyes turn to him now.
He laughs like it’s a good joke. “That was a long time ago Persephone.”
“I don’t know,” I smile. “I think everyone would love to hear you play.”
He’s about to defer again, but the kids jump in. They want him to. It’s entirely possible that more than half of them want him to play so that they can make fun of him later, but I know that won’t happen. Because Eric is good. There’s a reason that he’s pursuing music.
But he hasn’t talked about that at all to me. I know he lives in New York, and I know he has an agent who’s trying to make him a star. Leena told me about those things. But he hasn’t. Not so much mentioned the words New York or music. And I think tonight I need to know why.
If I’m going to face things the way Mabel suggested that I should, I need to know why he’s here and not there. What went wrong? Why isn’t he pursuing his dream?
Finally, Eric relents. “Okay, okay. I have to go get the guitar from my cabin and I’ll be right back.” He smiles at me and shakes his head like he can’t believe that I did this. But I can’t believe that he thinks I wouldn’t. I know how talented he is. You don’t just lose talent like that.
There are cheers from the campers as he stands and walks off into the dark to get his music, and I roast myself another marshmallow.
I feel the way I did when I was seventeen. Like I’m in this perfect bubble that I don’t want to burst. Is it really better to know? At the expense of what could be something beautiful?
If I face everything I need to face, what happens if it goes wrong? That will be a long and awkward summer working alongside Eric and not being able to touch him or kiss him or—
Fuck.
The thought stops me in my tracks. I’m falling for him all over again. And not in the way I’ve been holding a candle for him for years. This is real. Oh god.
I love the sensation of falling. I always have. And it’s one of the reasons I’ve always remembered that summer. But falling means that you’ll likely get hurt. I don’t know if I can take another heartbreak. But if it is going to be heartbreak, then I agree with Mabel. Sooner is better. Because then you can move on if you need to.
Eric walks out of the darkness with his guitar, and he’s never looked so beautiful, or so like a rockstar. The light from the fire glows along his frame, glinting off the instrument. The dark jeans he has on show his powerfully built legs, and the shirt he has pushed up to the elbows gives me a glimpse of those perfect, toned forearms.
I have no idea what makes that part of the body hot on men, but it is. Holy shit.
I’m the person that he looks at when he steps into the circle of light, and that small smile makes my stomach do a flip. His blue eyes are almost turquoise in the fire’s light. Like the color of the water the day he took me under the dock that summer. Oh my god, I’m in so much trouble.
Where’s the chocolate? Chocolate is good for panicking, right?