Chapter 15 Thorn #2
The water makes everything more difficult—slick skin and a kayak that doesn’t want to stay put—but we get it together, and she’s finally almost there.
I’ve got one hand on each of her thighs, bracing her as she climbs in, biting the inside of my cheek to balance out all the other things I’m feeling with her bikini bottoms right in front of me.
“Bet you’re glad I used the waxing strips now,” she says, and I laugh.
I couldn’t care less about the waxing strips—her legs under my hands would feel good no matter what.
She settles into the kayak, looking so proud of herself for finally conquering it.
“How are you going to get back into yours?” she asks. “And…what about my paddle?”
I follow her gaze out to the middle of the lake, where the yellow blades of her paddle are bright, blazing beacons on the green-blue water.
At least it’s the kind that floats.
After an invigorating swim there and back to retrieve it, I hoist myself up into my own kayak and we’re back in business.
Gotta be honest, though: I liked it better when we were in the water.
Matteo’s been in a foul mood all evening. After our afternoon at the lake, he headed off alone, breaking our own rule. He’s seemed on edge ever since.
We eat around the campfire, the various cliques mixing more than they have until now.
Brittany’s comparing sunburns with Hunter and Silas—Hunter wins that competition by a mile, having forgotten to sunscreen his entire back—while Joshua and Zoe continue to bicker with each other (as they’ve been doing all day).
Sadie’s sitting next to me but is chatting with Parker and Emma.
Which leaves Matteo and me. We’re sitting opposite each other, the flickering flames a healthy barrier between us. No one else seems to be paying attention to the way he’s keeping to himself tonight, scowling and silent. It’s unlike him—he’s an extrovert to the max. He was fine at the lake.
So what happened?
After dinner, I see him darting back toward the clearing he shared with Joshua and Zoe last night.
“Hey, man,” I call after him.
He doesn’t slow down.
“Matty,” I say more insistently, but he continues to ignore me.
I would leave him alone if he were any of our campers. I want to leave him alone for personal reasons. But I feel an obligation to make sure he’s okay—not just for myself, but for everyone who’s looking to the two of us to keep them safe out here.
“Everything okay?” I try, a last-ditch effort.
This, finally, is the thing that makes him stop.
“ ‘Everything okay?’ ” he repeats in a mocking tone that makes my blood simmer. “Everything’s a nightmare, man. I don’t need shit from you on top of all of it.”
He’s spiraling, hard. His Italian accent only comes out these days when he’s upset, and it’s very much with us right now.
My own pulse picks up. “What do you mean? Matty. Come on. Why would I give you shit?”
His face is hard, but he’s clearly in a lot of pain. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and taps around on the screen, which casts an unnaturally bright glow in the dim twilight.
He passes the phone to me.
“Which part?” I ask, glancing down at the series of texts he’s pulled up.
“All of it.”
“These are from Blair?” I ask, and he nods.
He has her saved as BB with a bunny emoji between the initials; she probably saved it in his phone herself.
Heyyyyyyyy babe, hope you’re having the adventure of a lifetime back in Cali! I miss you so so so so so so much
But
I have news
Please don’t hate me, but I got this opportunity to do a contract with a tour company in Thailand for six months
I will regret it FOREVER if I don’t take it, you know?
And when they reached out, everything clicked, like, THIS is the next right move for me.
I know we talked about settling down and growing roots together, but when I think about being tied to one place forever (and, sorry, one person) (not to hurt your feelings!
!!) (I would feel this way about literally anyone) it makes me feel like I can’t breathe
(I rlly hope you haven’t put a down payment on a place for us yet, I would feel extra awful bc it’s hard enough to tell you all of this as it is)
So sorry, babe, please please don’t hate me
I’m flying to Bangkok tonight
And ugh I guess I should probably mention before you see it on insta that Stephen is coming with me
Thx for all the fun, I will never forget you and I hope you forgive me
I look up, stunned.
All the emotion has seeped out of his face and, apparently, leached into mine instead.
I shouldn’t be speechless, but I am.
“Just say it,” Matteo says. “I know you want to.”
I take it all in, wait for whatever might be buried in me to surface.
Is there a part of me that’s glad he’s hurting in the same way he made me hurt?
It definitely feels like something has just balanced out in the universe—but I wouldn’t say I’m glad about it. I’ve never been the vindictive sort, and underneath all we’ve been through, he’s still like my brother. I don’t want him to suffer any more than I’d want myself to suffer.
“I’m sorry, man,” I say—and I mean it. “That really sucks.”
Matteo scoffs. “You’re not going to say I deserve it?”
If he keeps pushing me, I might.
His eyes are intense: a challenge. I breathe deeply and count to five before I say something I’ll regret.
“Go for a night swim, sleep it off,” I say. “This is just what Blair does—it’s not about you.”
Just like it was never about me.
I’ve had years to work through that, years to let it sink in. Seeing it happen to Matteo, though, is the thing that drives it home and makes it feel real.
Blair’s in it for the fun, for the adventure. She doesn’t want forever—not with Matteo, not with me, not with whoever Stephen is.
“Did you make a down payment?” I ask when he doesn’t reply.
“I was about to,” he finally says. “But I was waiting for Blair to say she liked the place, and then Danica called and I came out here instead.”
“Bullet dodged, then.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Bullet dodged.”
I shove my hands in my pockets, listening to the sounds of laughter back by the campfire as Matteo’s world falls apart. He’s in his own head, though: he doesn’t notice the mosquito that lands on his arm, or the distant rumble of thunder, or Trey as he joins us on the path.
“All good over here?” Trey asks. “We were about to make s’mores and thought we’d see if y’all want any.”
“I’d love one,” I say. “Matty?”
Matteo finally looks up when I say his name, the nickname my mom gave him all those years ago when he first moved in with us. Only our family is allowed to call him that.
“Huh—oh, hey,” he replies, the blank look on his face shifting into a bright smile that only barely reaches his eyes.
That smile is second nature to him, a fake-it-till-you-make-it defense mechanism I’ve seen a number of times over the years.
“No s’mores for me, but thanks,” Matteo goes on. “Gonna go for a night swim.”
“Oh, sweet, bro!” Trey says. “The guys and I might join you if you’re up for some company.”
Matteo forces a grin, tells him maybe he’ll see them later, but I hear what he really wants to say: he’s craving alone time—time away from everyone, where it can be just him and his heartbreak, no fake-it-till-you-make-it facade required.
“I’ll be right there,” I tell Trey, who takes the hint and heads back to the others.
Matteo’s face falls as soon as it’s just us again.
“Don’t go off alone like you did earlier, okay?
” I say, for his own good as much as mine; it’s not a great look for a leader to disregard the rules we put on everyone else.
It wasn’t okay earlier, and it’s definitely not okay now that I know what’s happened with Blair.
Back when we were in high school—and early on in our college days—he got reckless whenever he was upset.
I’d assumed he’d grown out of those tendencies years ago, but the look in his eye is all too familiar.
He cuts a sharp glance at me.
“Who the hell cares if I do?” he says, another challenge.
I know better than to argue with him when he’s in a mood like this.
He heads down the path toward the water without another word.