Highly Suspicious and Unfairly Cute(73)

“I get it,” Brad says. “You know I still haven’t talked to my parents about my writing yet.”

Yes, just like I know how happy Trev is to have one of his children follow in his footsteps. Still, I fumble for Brad’s hand in the dark and say, “Your dad loves you. He’s always going to love you.”

“I know. I’m just a coward. We all are, a little bit, sometimes. It’s not as terrible as people make it out to be.” He pauses. “Still pretty terrible, though.”

“Hey!”

“Hey yourself. I’m slagging both of us off, so it’s fine.”

I consider this for a moment. “Fair enough. We don’t have to stay cowards, though. That’s not who I want to be.”

There’s a long pause before he says slowly, softly, “No. Me neither.”

Brad falls silent again, and I start to worry he’s gotten lost in his own head. “Hey.” I squeeze his hand and search for a lighter topic. “When did you become a Golden Compass bloodhound, by the way?”

I feel his chest puff out behind me. “Don’t hate me ’cause you ain’t me.”

“That scholarship is yours.” I’m serious: he’s good. In fact, annoyingly, he’s better than me—but if there’s anyone I’d accept being second best to, it’s him.

“You didn’t hear that girl Vanessa got back hours before anyone else?” He huffs. “And she got three compasses on her own. She’s like the Terminator.”

“She’s like Sarah Connor.”

“Ce-line. Yes. Have you ever seen the TV show?”

“Why would you even ask me that? Of course, I’ve seen the show.”

From then on everything is easy and light, just like it should be, just like I need it. We spend too many hours in our castle under the stars, and when we finally stumble back to the tents, Brad kisses the life out of me.

“Try to sleep,” I whisper against his mouth.

“Celine,” he says, “did you know tents get condensation?”

My lips twitch. “Yes?”

“Disgusting,” he mutters. “Outside and inside are two separate places.” Then he kisses me some more. His mouth feathers across the corner of mine, eases my lips apart, tastes me softly. His hands cradle my face, thumbs sweeping hypnotic arcs over my cheeks. I know Brad is into me because he touches me anywhere I’ll let him, but when he kisses me like this—like the rest of my body doesn’t exactly matter or isn’t what he wants—that’s when I start to get unwise ideas like, maybe he loves me too.

I mean, I know he likes me. It could happen, right?

“Good night, Cel,” he whispers, and sends me to bed.

Sophie’s snoring (how the tables have turned) but Aurora’s still awake. She whispers to me like air from a party balloon. “I ship this so hard.”

I struggle back into my sleeping bag and thank God she can’t see me smiling. “That’s not— We’re not like that.”

She ignores me. “I knew you were into him. I knew it the first day at the cabin in Sherwood Forest, when he stopped to talk to you—”

“What?” My eyes are so wide they could pop out of my head at any moment. “But I didn’t—” Did I?

“And now you’re in love—”

I bite the side of my tongue, force myself to say it calmly. “I am not in love.”

Aurora snickers. “Okay, Celine. You just spent the whole day shooting heart eyes at him, then snuck off with him in the middle of the night. Nothing to see here!” She is gleeful.

“I’m…ignoring you now,” I manage, trying to push humor into words that taste like chalk. Is she right? Am I that transparent? I must be—it’s not like she’s making things up. And yeah, I want to tell Brad how I feel eventually—but not by accident. It’s supposed to be a choice, one I make in the future, when I’m stronger or braver or just…generally better than I am right now. What happens when we go back to school? When I’m in love with him right in front of everyone? What happens if he notices and he doesn’t…he isn’t…

I lie awake all night with a nest of snakes under my ribs.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN





BRAD


I want to tell Celine the truth today.

My brain graciously allows me two hours of sleep; then I get up early to use the bathroom before anyone else. Just like our last campsite, the loos and showers are awkwardly tucked into the edge of the forest, halfway up a jagged hill with winding, white-pebble paths that I assume are supposed to be helpful but are actually quite slippery. There’s no fence to separate the path from the ragged drops of the hill face, either, which is deeply irresponsible in my opinion, and I spend half the walk up fighting with my brain to avoid counting steps. When I manage to reach the facilities, I find them predictably dingy and disgusting—and there’s still another whole night of camping before my return to sweet, sweet civilization. Ugh.

But even this literal torture barely dampens my mood because I’m going to ask Celine to give me a chance, and after last night, I think she’ll say yes.

We’re being brave, right? Together. We decided. And the fact is, Celine’s a person, not a plan. If I’m trying to gain her trust, I want her to know how I feel. If she’s going to reject me, that’s okay too. But I’m gonna make it clear that I’m here until she asks me to leave, and just the thought of admitting it has me bouncing around like a cartoon character.