Chapter Ten West
Chapter Ten
West
Splash.
The loud, startling sound is followed by a few moments when the boat rocks aggressively back and forth, like someone gave it a push. Presumably the same someone who, I’d wager, just cannonballed into the sea.
I turn around from where I’ve been checking my phone for the first time since this morning, surprised to find a mass of soaked red curls springing back up from under the clear blue water—then bobbing along the surface as she paddles away from the rest of us.
“It’s a ten from the Italian judge,” Paolo calls out teasingly.
I see her bright white smile in profile as she flashes it toward him, still swimming in the other direction.
Something in my chest squeezes tighter with a mix of feelings.
Worry that she’s already attached to this guy, when we have very little evidence that he has anything to do with her life, that she’ll be heartbroken if this one isn’t the one.
Or worse, heartbroken if he is and still doesn’t want anything to do with her.
But there’s something else making the organ behind my ribs do funny things. Probably the fact that even though it’s been three years since we’ve had any sort of relationship, I’ve never met another girl whose smile affects me like Cammie’s does. She’s still so unbelievably beautiful.
I tear my gaze away, though it wants to linger on her freckled arms as they propel her forward, the long, tangled tresses floating behind her.
Frustration creeps in as I look back at my phone, wishing I hadn’t given it a second look when I took it out of my pocket to stow it somewhere waterproof.
But I did, and my friend Max’s name caught my eye, a text from him outside our group chat.
Max has already confirmed his plans to go to the same program I’m considering in Germany, and if I do go, we’ll be roommates.
He knows I’m undecided and hasn’t pressured me to make the call faster, but he does occasionally send related messages, like a cool tourist experience someone recommended we try in Berlin, or something new he learned about the program that excites him.
Mostly, these just stress me out. He’s not saying “make your decision now, West! No big deal, it’s only your entire future hanging in the balance!
” But my mind reacts as though he is. I fire off a single emoji in response to some Top 10 Biergartens listicle I didn’t read, just trying to get it off my mental to-do list. I doubt Max especially wants to be my roommate by now, as my responses get increasingly nonsensical in my effort to sound chill.
Case in point—“Dear god, West, why the smiling cowboy hat?” I whisper under my breath, trying to block the sun from my screen with one hand while the other scrambles to find the Unsend option. By the time I do, it’s too late to use it.
Read by Max P, it says under the blue text bubble. Maybe I should just “accidentally” drop this device overboard. But Max’s laugh reaction keeps me from doing so—for now—and I hurry to stuff it in the compartment under the bench before finishing my sunscreen application.
Once I do, I cross to the back of the boat where everyone but Cannonball Cam has descended into the water using a ladder. Before I start down it, I peer around in search of where Cammie swam off to—only to find her gaze stuck on me.
Even across a good distance, I can tell it’s not on my face, either.
An uncontrollable smirk pulls at my lips, and if no one else were around, it’d be a great time to yell, “My eyes are up here.” But we aren’t alone, and we are still pretending to be related because of my big, dumb mouth.
So I keep my taunts in my head, alongside my absolute delight that I’m not the only one of us still attracted to the other, however unwillingly.
I’ve never been an athletic guy, but I started working out a couple years ago, after the millionth time it was recommended to help with my anxiety.
Unfortunately, it does help. Even more unfortunately, I’ve come to enjoy it.
But I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated the results as much as I do at this moment.
I try to keep my smug grin to myself as I turn and start down the ladder.
The water is cooler than I expected as I ease in but feels incredible under the midday sun.
I paddle toward Cammie, who’s now floating with eyes closed and face tipped up toward the blue sky.
She must hear the small ripples as I draw near, because she speaks before I can without opening her eyes.
“You took your life jacket off.”
I look down as if to confirm the accusation.
“Yeah, Paolo said that was okay, since the water is so shallow here.”
“I just thought you were Mr. Safety and all,” she goes on. “Didn’t expect you’d want to risk it.”
I frown. She really thinks I’m a paranoid mess, doesn’t she?
“Being in shallow water like this is way less dangerous than being on a boat getting tossed around in the open ocean. Worst-case scenario, my feet can reach the bottom and I can bounce myself back up to the surface.” Why are we even talking about this?
I think. I’m still antsy from Max’s text, but trying to be present, to focus on what I’m here for, I change the subject.
“What do we think about Paolo so far? Any major paternal vibes coming off him, or anything clicking for you?”
Cammie’s eyes pop open and her head turns abruptly to check if Paolo is within hearing range. Like I would have said anything if he was. But I still follow without comment when she swims a little farther away from the boat.
“I don’t know, he seems cool,” she says.
“I realize it’s kind of silly, but I just have this feeling like when I meet my actual dad, I’ll know in my gut, and I don’t necessarily have that.
But maybe that’s not realistic.” She tilts her head with a sigh, suddenly looking and sounding a little sadder than she was earlier.
“I’m not sure how I’ll get any closer to the answer today.
Short of asking him, ‘Hey, did you sleep with my mom twenty years ago and then ditch her when she told you she was pregnant with your child?’ He might have a heart attack, and then who would drive us back to land—Victor? Pass.”
I laugh even though I know she’s trying to deflect from stuff that’s actually kind of heavy and difficult, sensing it’s what she needs right now. I also don’t exactly have any words of wisdom. We float in silence for a few moments, each of us lost to our own thoughts, before Cammie speaks again.
“This probably all seems pretty half-baked, and unlikely to result in a perfect ending where the biggest mystery of my life is tied up with a nice little bow. But I…” She looks away, her teeth clamping down on her lower lip as she struggles for the right words, before finally looking back to me and blurting, “I really appreciate you doing this. I don’t know if I’ve said that enough, or, well…
at all. But I’m grateful you’re here. It would be so much scarier doing it alone. ”
My heart is pounding so hard I wish I’d left my life jacket on. It has to be visible through my chest right now. I swallow a lump of emotion in my throat before I answer, “What are cousins for?”
Cammie throws her head back and laughs, a sound that does not help my heart-racing situation, nor any of my body’s other physical reactions to the only girl I’ve ever wanted, just a foot away from me and looking like a literal dream in her yellow swimsuit in the sparkling Mediterranean waters.
When her laughter subsides and she meets my eyes, hers seem to be looking for something. Studying me intently enough that I feel like ducking my head underwater to hide.
“Everything okay? You seem…distracted,” she says softly.
I give her a knowing tilt of my chin. “I could say the same for you.”
Cammie smirks. “Mm-hmm, but I said it first. So spill.”
With a sigh, I lean back, paddling with my arms to keep afloat as I look up toward the craggy cliffs nearby.
“It’s nothing, really—I just got a text from the guy I was maybe going to room with in Germany, and it reminded me I have to decide.
It’s just been this big cloud, like, looming over me.
But I’m pretty sure I’m not going, so I need to just call it.
Then I can stop stressing.” I sound more sure than I am, but I also don’t want to keep talking about it.
I know it’ll only make me agitated and anxious. “Your turn.”
When I peek her way, her smile is rueful before it fades and her eyes flit away. “I don’t know, I…I guess I keep thinking about what you said the day we went into Naples. How it’s sucked these last three years, us not being in each other’s lives. If it isn’t obvious, it’s sucked for me, too.”
It wasn’t obvious at all, actually, I want to tell her, but I hold it in.
Her tone is cautious as she continues. “But if it sucked so much, why didn’t you ever reach out and try to fix things? For the longest time after our fight, had you picked up the phone and texted or called even once, I would’ve been ready to mend fences in a heartbeat.”
I feel my brows pull together and my lips turn downward as I replay her words in my mind. “I…What? Cam, I was just doing what you asked.”
Water splashes as she throws a hand in the air. “What are you talking about? What do you think I asked?”
“No, no,” I say, shaking my head. “First, I want to know what you think happened back then—how you remember our fight and what got us there.”
“Why do I have to go first?” she squeaks out, but I won’t let the cuteness deter me.
“Honestly? Because you’ve seemed so angry with me—still angry, to this day. If I’m going to explain or defend myself, first I need to hear things from your point of view.”
Her lips purse, and her eyes shift away, back toward the boat and beyond it. “Fair enough,” she concedes, “but I don’t think this is a water-treading talk. Some of us haven’t spent our entire time apart getting all fit and toned and six-pack-y.”