CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
NOTES FROM THE DARK:
There are truths that only reveal themselves when the lights go out. Night peeled him open in ways daylight never dared. I should have kept my eyes shut.
We were parked at a gas station when Tristan’s attention went from the map to a vehicle that had pulled up alongside us.
It was a sleek, newer-model van with solar panels glinting on the roof and a decal of a black bear on the back window.
It was parked crookedly off the gravel shoulder, half in the shade and half in the sun.
I recognized the look on Tristan’s face before he said anything; his eyes narrowed, then widened, like a memory had just punched him in the chest.
“Holy shit,” he whispered. “Forrest.”
The man who stepped out was tall, lean, and tanned. Around Tristan’s age, his hair was black and cut short, and his posture was cocky and confident. He grinned when he saw Tristan, a look of genuine happiness.
“I thought you were heading to the island,” Forrest said, clapping Tristan on the back.
“Change of plans,” Tristan replied.
I felt the weight of that sentence. Tristan didn’t look at me when he said it, but Forrest did. He studied me like I was the reason for that change of plans.
And I was.
His smile remained, but it cooled a fraction.
“This is Daisy,” Tristan said. “Daisy, this is Forrest, a longtime friend who also took to the road.”
“Nice to meet you,” I offered, trying to sound casual.
Forrest nodded slowly, looking me over with hard brown eyes. “Likewise.”
“Where’s the missus?” Tristan asked, a teasing lilt in his tone.
“Not a missus yet!” a light voice called out.
A pretty woman popped out of the van with a bottle of iced tea and a sunhat that looked like it belonged in one of those magazines with the posh beach outfits.
“He hasn’t proposed,” she whined. “I thought this was the summer he’d propose, Tristan!”
“Tania.” Forrest rolled his eyes.
Tania gave Tristan a friendly hug before extending a hand toward me. “I’m Tania.”
“Daisy,” I returned, shaking it. I couldn’t help glancing at her hand. The red manicure and tanned, smooth skin. I consciously hoped she didn’t feel how callused mine was.
When was the last time I’d put on moisturizer?
She was warm, chatty, and immediately made me feel welcome. Forrest’s cool eyes continued to regard me in an indecipherable way, though he would smirk and pitch in with a joke.
What was his problem, exactly?
“Where are you headed?” Forrest asked.
“Kind of going where the wind’s blowing,” Tristan answered, taking me by the hand now.
“The wind’s blowing toward our next campsite,” Forrest returned. “Follow us, all right? We’ve got a fridge full of meat and beer, so we’re shouting tonight’s dinner.”
“Yes, please,” Tania said happily. “Forrest’s been a drag lately. I need some entertainment.”
Before he agreed, Tristan looked at me, taking in my reaction. Forrest’s gaze settled on me, too, and it felt like a weight.
Did it look like Tristan was seeking my permission?
I smiled quickly and nodded.
“All right,” Tristan agreed. “Let’s do it.”
We ended up at a campground tucked between cedar trees and a languid river. There were other campers nearby. The air smelled like pine and woodsmoke. Tristan and Forrest built a fire while Tania and I prepared vegetables from our recent grocery shop.
It was easy, almost too easy.
Laughter and music floated between the vans, and for a few hours, I allowed myself to believe I belonged there. I wanted to blend in and pretend this could have been me in another reality. An adventurous person with friends and stories. I’d always wondered what that felt like.
Tania explained that the boys had decided to leave everything and take to the road.
She emphasized that their work lives had practically chewed them up and spat them out.
They had been moving in the same direction, but with Tristan planning to go to the island, they’d split up.
They planned to meet again in the fall in a specific town on the coast somewhere I didn’t recognize.
“You’re going to be with Forrest the whole time?” I wondered.
Tania marinated the meat, shrugging. “Not the whole time, but as much as I can be. I’m going back home at the end of summer, before they’re supposed to meet up again.”
“So Forrest will be on his own?”
“Not for very long. There are some things he wants to do. Spearfishing and some hikes in remote places he’s put on a list somewhere. He can call me whenever he wants along the way. When he’s ready to come back, he’s going to put the van in storage, and we’ll resume next summer where he left off.”
Forrest wasn’t as strict with technology as Tristan was. He had the radio going full blast, and he and Tania had phones and a big screen for watching movies in the van.
He asked Tristan a lot of questions. Whether he’d picked up work along the way. Whether it was day labor or busking. Whether he stopped often to recharge in motel rooms and how his sleep was.
That seemed to be a big one.
How’s your sleep, Tristan?
As though he were an insomniac who hadn’t slept in years, and yet I hadn’t seen Tristan miss a night’s sleep unless we were preoccupied with each other.
We ate shish kebabs and salad and then made s’mores with tall sticks Tania and I had gathered. All the while, whenever I was near him, Tristan was attached to my hip. His hand was constantly on me, constantly touching me, constantly letting me know he was there and that he was going nowhere.
But as the sun dipped and the fire turned low, my body reminded me of its limits. I excused myself, ignoring Forrest’s heavy stare. I was going to be glad to get away from him, as awful as that sounded.
He watched me every chance he got.
I climbed into the van and fell into bed. With the overhead window open, the night air was cool against my skin, and I lay there listening—half-asleep, half-alert.
I heard Forrest’s voice first.
“Why did you end up going another direction?” he asked.
“I’m still going to the island,” Tristan answered. “It’s only a delay.”
“Who decided that?”
“Why are you being pushy about this?”
Tania must have sensed the shift in mood because she cheerfully chimed in. “Forrest knows how important it is for you to scatter your father’s ashes, Tristan. Is the urn in the van?”
“It was sent to my aunt before I even hit the road.”
“You’re going to pick his ashes up at your aunt’s, then.”
Forrest sighed. “Tania, what do you think?”
“I’m just making conversation, hon.”
“Then ask the right questions.”
“Like what?”
“Like, what are you thinking, bringing that girl along, Tristan? This was meant to be a solo trip for you.”
Tristan didn’t answer right away.
The silence stretched.
“She’s clearly hurting,” Forrest continued. “And hiding something. You know that, right?”
“She’s been through a lot,” Tristan said. “I know what I’m doing.”
“You sure? Because she’s not who she says she is. You can feel it. I’ve been on the road long enough to spot when someone’s running.”
Tania’s voice chimed in, soft and amused. “What could she be running from, honey?”
“Anything.”
“Aren’t you running, though? Being out here, closing yourself off from the fast life?”
“I’m not running, Tania. I shut the world out so I can live in the wild. That girl’s running from something.”
“Like what?” she pressed, her humor growing.
“I don’t know, but it’s not something good.”
“Either way, she doesn’t owe us an explanation.”
“When she’s bunking with my buddy, I think he’s the one who’s owed an explanation.”
Tania chuckled as she attempted to keep the mood light. “She seems nice to me. Friendly. Thoughtful. Ignore Forrest, Tristan. He’s been reading too many mystery novels—”
“She’s nice because she has to be,” Forrest snapped, irritated. “Tristan, you’ve got land back home. A sizable bank account. You just got out of a long relationship. You think she’s not clocking that?”
My stomach twisted. I wanted to shut the window, crawl deeper beneath the blankets, and disappear into the mattress.
But I couldn’t stop listening.
“Haven’t been in a relationship in a long time,” Tristan returned calmly.
“One year is still too soon. Hell, another year is still too soon.”
“Forrest, babe, calm down,” Tania said.
“She’s got secrets,” Forrest carried on. “And they might cost you.”
Tristan’s voice was sharper now. “I said I know what I’m doing, Forrest.”
Tania laughed nervously. “Keep your voices down. She might still be awake.”
I was.
And every word felt like a stone in my chest.
“You need to learn when to drop it,” Tristan said next, edgily. “We’re here to have a good time. I’m here to catch up with my friends, not get interrogated about my life choices.”
“I’m being a good friend by protecting you from what is so fucking obvious—”
“I don’t need your fucking protection,” Tristan hissed, his voice dangerously low. “I’m a grown man, Forrest. I can protect myself.”
Forrest didn’t let it drop, though. “You’re looking out for this girl by the looks of things, but who’s looking out for you?”
“Forrest, stop,” Tania whispered.
“No,” Forrest retorted. “He does this, you know. He’s been self-destructive ever since his old man died—”
“Fucking watch yourself,” Tristan cut in sharply, his patience having bled dry. “Enough.”
An uncomfortable silence stretched on.
I’d never heard Tristan use that tone before.
Conflicted, I stared at the ceiling of the van, tracing the curve of the roof with my eyes. I knew Forrest wasn’t wrong. I was hiding things—things I hadn’t told Tristan. Things I hadn’t said aloud in years.
Hell, Tristan knew it, too.
But I wasn’t a thief with ulterior motives.
I turned onto my side, pressing my cheek against the pillow. I didn’t cry. I didn’t move. But I knew, deep down, that I would have to move along soon. Tristan deserved someone whole and uncomplicated. Someone Forrest wouldn’t have to warn him about.
And I wasn’t her.
Not yet.
Not ever.
The morning was quiet.
Too quiet.