Chapter 4 #4
“Congratulations,” she says. “You two have made genuine progress in your relationship. You have thirty seconds where the Retreat rules do not apply. Use them wisely.”
No one has to tell them twice. Ava’s barely stopped talking before Pax is climbing into Blake’s lap, pressing their lips together hungrily.
They make the most of their short reprieve, nipping at each other’s lips and sliding their tongues together.
It’s a relief for Blake, after this shit-show of an evening, and he clings to Pax’s hips, feels him up a little — hey, it is a free pass — and friggin’ loves the way Pax grinds in his lap.
When their thirty seconds are up and their watches fade to black, Blake parts from Pax reluctantly, Pax’s arms still wound tightly around his neck.
Eyes half-closed and dreamy, Paxton smiles and touches Blake’s cheek. “Thank you, Ava,” he says, and it’s Blake’s turn to laugh.
_____________________
Dani and Ariana lose the group sixteen thousand dollars in the private suite, or so Ava tells them at what’s quickly becoming a daily afternoon gathering next to the pool.
Amber and Colt lost them an additional three grand via their “date”, though whatever happened there seems to have cooled off just as quickly.
Today, they’re sitting as far apart as humanly possible and Amber is glaring at Colt like she wishes her eyes were daggers. Blake scoots a little closer to Pax, and ignores the way Maura is shooting him the same look.
The day’s workshops are split along gender-lines, which Blake thinks is pretty stupid, since all of them are pretty into bucking those kind of norms and expectations.
That’s TV, Rachel tells him with a shrug, before ushering Blake down into the courtyard for “Warrior’s Heart,” whatever the hell that is supposed to be.
Regardless of Blake’s feelings about it, the men-only activity goes on.
It involves all of the boys first getting shirtless and then covering each other head-to-waist in mud.
This part, Blake doesn’t so much get, but he can admit that it’s intimate, rubbing mud all over another person in that way. He’s just glad he’s paired with Pax.
That grateful feeling fades quickly, though, when the second part of the activity involves coloring a canvas with words and pictures that describe their “heart’s deepest fears, your biggest barriers to success and fulfillment,” and then sharing them.
In short, laying himself emotionally bare. Yeah, great, that’s fine — average Tuesday for Blake, not paralyzing him with cold waves of fear and anxiety at all.
He must be growing as a person though, because despite that, Blake doesn’t shy away from the task.
His poster-sized canvas includes words like, “fear of failure,” “disappointing Hayden,” and “being rejected.” He colors a few symbols (like the car) that represent his father’s expectations for him, how he knows his Dad wouldn’t approve of the way Blake lives now.
Money worries. How his mother would be sad that Blake struggles to let himself be happy.
When he shares the picture with Pax, none of the judgement or disdain Blake dreads seeing appears on his face.
Instead, there’s just Pax, reading carefully and with a furrowed brow, before swiftly pulling Blake in tight and holding him gently, understanding hands soothing up and down his mud-covered back.
It’s unsurprising to Blake when he sees on Pax’s own poster little cartoon depictions of drugs, of money, of three identical stick-figure men, one on his knees. “Fear of letting my family down,” it reads. “Being no one.” “Being unhelpful, or a burden.” “Unworthy.” “Unloved.” “Broken.”
That last one breaks Blake’s heart.
“You’re not broken, and you’re not a burden, Pax,” Blake is quick to say in Pax’s ear while he wraps him up as tight as he can, trying to use sheer will to drive those feelings from Pax’s head.
“Pax, you’re worthy,” he insists. “Your past, your mistakes — none of that is who you are, sweetheart. They don’t define you. ”
“You either,” Paxton murmurs back, sniffling roughly, and that hits Blake hard.
The guru leading their workshop helps hang each poster from some makeshift rafters and gives each participant a pike pole.
After some loud, super-cliché screaming about how the posters are their “untruths to leave in the past,” they’re encouraged to charge Braveheart-style at their works and destroy them with the pointy ends of their sticks.
Blake really likes that part, not that he’s admitting it to anyone. He also likes having Pax’s arms to walk into when they’re done. Pax is solace, he’s freedom. He sees Blake and for some reason, he doesn’t turn away.
When the workshop is over, Blake, Pax, and all the other participants go charging full-speed into the ocean to wash off the clinging mud.
From their lined-up lounge chairs on the beach, the girls watch and scream with delight and amusement, but they leave them to it.
There’s lots of hugging and high-fives all around, and even Blake has to admit, he feels just a little bit lighter as they walk back out onto the sand.