Gage
Chapter twenty-six
As the party winds down around eleven, Olivia offers to stay to help clean up. My parents insist she should head home, so I suggest walking with her since her parents left right after the fireworks. Plus, it gives me an excuse to say good night to her properly without prying eyes nearby.
Giving her space was torture. All I wanted was to have her tucked under my arm, to kiss her openly as fireworks exploded in the sky. I wanted everyone at the party to know she’s mine—not that she would admit that herself, but still.
So, when we get to her front door, I kiss her like I’ve wanted to all day. I back her up against the wall and devour her mouth with mine.
At first, Olivia pushes me away. “My parents,” she whispers.
I stroke her cheek with the side of my hand. “I’m sure they’re asleep.”
She looks unconvinced, but when I kiss a trail up her neck and nibble her earlobe, she buries her doubts. I nudge her chin with my nose and catch her lips again.
She giggles and pulls away. “It feels weird.”
“Gee, thanks,” I deadpan.
She hits her hand lightly across my chest. “No, I mean kissing you here. In front of my parents’ house. Not at camp.”
I press my lips to her neck. “Do you want me to stop?” I murmur.
“No.”
I smile against her skin, feeling the pulse of her heartbeat in her throat.
“But you don’t think it’s weird?” she presses.
“No. I’m happy kissing you anywhere.”
When I get back to my parents’ house, I help clean up—bagging trash and folding up chairs and tables for my dad to return to the rental company tomorrow.
Annie helps, too. She’s staying here tonight since her apartment is downtown and the area will take a while to clear out from the big fireworks show the city holds over Lady Bird Lake.
When my dad ducks inside to ask my mom where she wants the lanterns, Annie corners me.
“You two are dating, aren’t you?” She sets her hands on her hips and shoots me a look that’s part excitement and part hurt.
“What?” I say quickly, not because I didn’t hear her question, but because I need more time to figure out how to answer it.
“You and Delaney,” she clarifies. “You’re dating.”
She doesn’t frame it as a question this time. She’s certain. Still, I try to dodge the implication.
“What makes you say that?” I ask.
Annie cocks her head and narrows her eyes as if to say “Seriously?”
“You couldn’t take your eyes off each other all night. Even when you were conspicuously on opposite sides of the yard, you both always knew where the other was. You, in particular, were looking at her like you used to in high school, with those big heart eyes like an emoji.”
Was I really that obvious? I sigh, knowing I can’t lie to my sister. We’re clearly busted.
“I wouldn’t say dating exactly.” I grimace.
“What would you say?”
I frown. “Olivia would say ‘summer fling.’”
Annie stares at me. “Summer fling?” she repeats. “That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard.”
I shrug. “I don’t disagree.”
Annie looks thoughtful. Dad comes back outside, and Annie whispers, “Meet me at the treehouse after the parents go to bed.”
I scoff but nod in agreement. Our dad built the treehouse in the oak tree by the back fence of the yard when Annie and I were six.
It was always our own hideaway where we’d go to talk to each other about anything and everything.
I remember many nights when one of us would whisper, “Treehouse” to the other before bed, and we’d sneak out of the house and talk late into the night without our parents knowing.
I’m not even sure it can still hold our weight, but Annie is a sucker for nostalgia.
An hour later, I climb the rope ladder to the treehouse, where Annie is already waiting for me.
I scrunch against one wall of the treehouse, my knees to my chest and my neck at an angle to keep from bumping my head on the ceiling.
Annie sits by the opposite wall with her legs crossed and a blanket around her shoulders.
She’s not struggling to fit into this little space like I am, though she is nearly a foot shorter than me.
Didn’t this treehouse use to be bigger?
“Spill,” Annie commands, without preamble.
So, I do. I tell her about the sharing stick and the muumuus, the hike and canoeing, the movie day and Schlitterbahn. I don’t go into detail about the kissing, but Annie is pretty good at reading between the lines.
“Wow.” Annie breathes out when I finish. “Do you love her?”
She watches me carefully. The glow from her phone screen is the only light we have between us.
I nod slowly, owning up to it. “I always have,” I add softly.
“Does she love you?”
I chuckle sardonically. “That’s the million-dollar question. I’d like to think so. I mean, she acts like she does, but if pressed, I’m pretty sure she’d deny it.”
“But why?”
“I don’t know. I still don’t even know what happened between us at graduation.”
“You haven’t asked her?” Annie’s eyes widen.
I shake my head. “It’s all so tentative. I don’t want to do anything that will scare her off or make her ghost me again.”
It sounds pathetic, what I’m willing to put up with to have Olivia around at all.
Annie tilts her head, regarding me. “That doesn’t sound like a very healthy relationship, Gage.”
I puff out a breath. “I know.”
“So, what is your plan?”
I shrug. “Convince her to let this be a real relationship before the summer ends?”
“How?” she asks, crossing her arms in front of her.
I consider her question, but the truth is, I don’t have a very good answer. “With my charming smile and abs of steel?”
Annie looks at me with squinted eyes. “I think you’re going to need more than that.”
I throw my arms up, nearly smacking them against the ceiling of the treehouse. “Well, you’re her best friend. Help me!”
She shakes her head. “You know I love you, Gage. And Delaney. But the two of you need to figure this out for yourselves.” She hesitates.
“What?” I ask.
Annie holds eye contact. “Just … just be prepared if it turns out her feelings aren’t as deep as yours. Be careful.”
I exhale a breath. Not exactly the encouragement I was hoping for.
“I’ll try,” I say. “Don’t say anything to Olivia, please. She can’t know that you know.”
Annie scrunches her nose. “I’ll do my best.”
Back at camp for week nine, I have my biggest group of kids yet. All twelve of the bunks in my cabin are occupied, so Jayden and I have our hands full.
Jayden’s been a great junior counselor this summer.
He gets impatient with the campers, especially when they’re hyper, but he has a talent for crowd control and thinking of fun ideas for games and skits.
He goes home to Houston most weekends, giving me the cabin all to myself, which is another point in his favor.
I hardly have a moment to think, let alone see Olivia, all week.
On Friday evening, when the skits are all finally over and every one of my campers are packed up into their parents’ cars and heading home, I can finally turn my thoughts to what’s next.
Namely, my weekend with Olivia and my nervousness about my little brother coming to camp next week. He’ll be in my cabin.
I still get this weird, kind of uneasy feeling in my stomach whenever I call Duncan my brother or Callie my sister or even Maggie my mom. Almost like I’m not sure I’m allowed to use those terms.
Even though by any definition Duncan is surely my brother. We’re genetically related and we have the same mom, even if we weren’t raised by the same people or in the same household. And I’m not sure who I think is authorized to give me that permission. Maggie’s fine with it and so is my mom.
Our family situation is messier and more complicated than a lot of people are comfortable discussing, even if I wanted to share all the personal details with a stranger.
Or then there are some people who find out I’m adopted and think that entitles them to know everything about my story because it’s different and they’re curious.
No matter how polite I am when I decline to share, they still walk away looking offended, like they have a right to hear about my life, and I’m rude to deny them.
But either way, Duncan is my brother. Annie and I both fell in love with him instantly when we held him for the first time in the hospital when we were thirteen. The same for Callie two years later.
Duncan is kind of a quiet, shy kid. He reminds me a lot of Annie at that age, actually. Maggie asked Linda, the camp director, for him to be assigned to my cabin. She thinks it will help him adjust to camp more easily.
I meet Olivia in the mess hall for a simple dinner and remind her that Duncan will be at camp on Sunday. Plus, Maggie and her family booked a hotel in the town nearby for Saturday night so they can take me to dinner before Duncan’s week at Camp Prairie Star begins.
“Oh, yeah!” Olivia says, sitting on the bench across from me and stabbing a forkful of taco salad. “Are you excited to see everyone?”
I give her a half shrug as I push my food around on the plate more than eat it. “Yes, but also kind of nervous?”
She puts her fork down and leans over the table to get closer to me. “Why? What’s up?”
I shrug again. “I don’t know. I mean, I came here this summer to try to feel closer to my roots because of Maggie’s family’s legacy, you know? But I don’t feel like I’ve really done that.”
“No?” Olivia tilts her head.
“I’ve been a little distracted,” I remind her, my eyebrows raised.
Her cheeks turn pink. “Because of me?” she squeaks. “I’m sorry, Gage! I didn’t mean to distract you from your goals this summer.” She angles her head down, looking at the table instead of me.
I reach across and nudge her chin up with my hand. “Hey,” I murmur when her eyes meet mine, “I’m not complaining. The summer has been amazing so far.”
“It has,” she agrees with a smile that flips my stomach. “How about if I plan an activity for us tomorrow?” She falters. “Unless you’d rather have some alone time to process before your dinner with Maggie.”
I finger a strand of hair that’s escaped from her ponytail and tuck it behind her ear. “I’d rather be with you. What kind of activity do you have in mind?”
She bites her lip. “It’s a surprise. Meet me here for breakfast at eight—realistically, maybe 8:30—and we’ll go from there.”
I grin at her. “Can’t wait.”