Chapter Eleven
Now
Margo had taken a seat in the back of the mess hall at the last empty table. She gripped her mug in both hands, back facing the corner, as if she didn’t want anyone to be able to sneak up on her.
“Are you going to eat anything?” she asked, eyeing my empty hands.
I shook my head, not trusting myself to say anything.
“Welcome, welcome!” came Chelsea’s voice from the stage. Gone was her anger from a few moments ago. Now, she was all smiles, the perfect emulation of my mother, yet again.
She waited a short beat for the voices in the room to die down. “Good morning, y’all. We’ve got a packed agenda for today, so make sure you eat up. This morning will be guided tours of the new facilities, and this afternoon we will be honoring Anita Olsen with a memorial service on the pavilion.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the weight of more than one glance in my direction.
“Why is Baby running the show?” Margo leaned over to ask me. She was attempting to peel an orange with her pointy acrylics. She sucked the juice from one of her nails, then glanced at me expectantly when I didn’t answer. “Aren’t you the big boss now?”
“It’s complicated.”
“How so?”
I sighed, rubbed a hand to my temple. “I guess I technically own the property now, yeah.”
Margo’s lip twitched. “Still playing coy about being a millionaire, are we?”
Heat rose in my cheeks. “I’m not playing coy, I just…” I trailed off. Not wanting to say the truth, because it was ugly.
I just don’t feel like I deserve it.
I just don’t think anyone believes I can do it.
I just don’t want it at all.
“You just what?” Her voice was more serious now. When I didn’t say anything right away, she cocked her head to the side. “Tell me this: How long are you planning to stick around?”
“I haven’t gotten that far yet,” I said, my gaze on the ceiling. “It would be…a lot, you know? Running a summer camp. I don’t know if…I don’t know.”
When I finally met Margo’s eye, she wasn’t looking at me with pity but something close. “So you’re punishing yourself.” I had no idea what to say. My silence was answer enough.
Chelsea finished her announcements and flounced off the stage, and after a beat, the room grew loud again. She gave us a wide berth, and I watched her make her way to a table on the far side of the room.
She dropped down next to Rig, and my stomach hollowed out. Because on the other side of him was Trevor, coffee mug halfway to his lips when he saw me.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. Then he lifted his free hand in a slow, lazy wave, his smile only a little unsure, and like a middle schooler, I glanced away without acknowledging him.
“Lifeguard Ken is looking at you,” Margo deadpanned from next to me. “I swear he’s gotten cuter.”
“Stop it. Please.”
Her lip twitched. “He’s coming over here.”
“I’m serious, just—” I started, but abruptly cut myself off when I saw that Trevor was, in fact, weaving his way through the crowd.
“Shit.” I thought Margo might have at least a shred of decency—that she might excuse herself and let me flounder alone—but no. Instead, she leaned back and let her eyes drift between Trevor and me hungrily, as if her favorite show was about to start after a multi-season hiatus.
My spine stiffened when he dropped down on the bench next to me. “Been looking for you all morning,” he said, reaching out to pat me on the shoulder. I tensed, and I wondered if he noticed. He glanced at Margo, eyes dimming only slightly as he took her in. “Margo. Good to see you.”
She only waggled her fingers at him before violently digging another talon into her orange. Though she was attempting to look uninterested, I knew she’d be hanging on every word.
“I’ve been busy,” I said, sitting on my hands so I wouldn’t fidget. “Did you need something? More towels?”
His expression grew somber, and he scooted closer.
“No, I don’t need anything. I haven’t had a chance to talk to you yet, and I wanted to see how you were doing.
” He gestured at the room behind us; the squealing former campers, the camera-clad reporters.
“This has got to be a bit overwhelming, yeah?”
“I’m fine,” I said, absolutely not fine at all.
It had been four years since I’d last seen him. We’d been together for just shy of a year at that point, and we’d been getting ready to move. For months, we’d talked through tons of ideas—Missoula, Portland, San Diego, Amsterdam. Anywhere. We’d finally decided on Boulder.
We had it all planned out. Both of our leases were ending around the same time, and we’d road trip, make a whole summer vacation out of it.
Trevor had already gotten a job leading fly-fishing trips, and my résumé was in the final rounds of consideration for a coveted position at a buzzy new cocktail bar.
We were going to live together, in a tiny apartment we couldn’t really afford, and ride bikes on the weekends, and float the river in the summer.
And in the span of one night, everything had fallen apart. Shattered like glass. He’d left, and I’d stayed. I hadn’t seen or heard from him since.
Now, here he was—after so much silence, so much bone-shaking sadness—sidling up to me in the mess hall like we were in an alternate timeline. One where the camp hadn’t burned down, no one had died, and he still loved me enough to stick around.
I couldn’t do this. Not today. Not with Margo Pierce watching. “You know what, I’ve actually got to—do something for Rig. I just remembered.”
I bolted from the table before he had a chance to stop me, though I was almost sure he called my name.
Margo trailed close behind me, her black sandals nipping at my ankles.
When we got outside, the tears were already blurring my vision, and I pressed my back against the wall to keep myself upright.
He still smelled the same. I hated myself for noticing.
“Just breathe, Little G.” Her words were neither soft nor kind, but she was the one who’d followed me out, who was making sure I wasn’t slipping into a panic attack. So I followed her direction for a few long moments before feeling steady enough to push myself off the wall.
“You want to tell me what happened between you two?”
“We broke up,” I said, a quaver in my voice that I couldn’t hide. “We were together for a while after the fire, but…it didn’t work out. Doesn’t matter. I’m totally fine, I just wasn’t expecting to see him this weekend. He caught me off guard. But I’m over it. Seriously.”
“Same old Greer,” she sighed, even as she grabbed my wrist and pulled me gently forward. “Always pretending.”
I forced my feet to move off the porch and squinted into the midmorning sun. “I’m not pretending,” I said, though we both knew I was. Then, and now.