What Happens Now(84)

“The truth is,” said Max as he watched me tie, “we all change each other. Maybe not in huge ways. Maybe not always for the better and how we expected or wanted. But it happens.”

I nodded, my eyes tearing up again, and handed him the bag. We stared at each other, a comfortable stare like the kind I had with Kendall at our best moments. Regardless of everything, I was glad to have gotten to know this boy.

“Camden will come back,” said Max.

“The issue is that he left in the first place. Just when I needed him most.”

Max shrugged. “So he’s not perfect. He’s still learning.”

“Where is the line between that and the deal-breaking stuff? The stuff that’s not going to get learned. The stuff that makes someone wrong for you.”

Max considered this, staring at the bag in his hands. “Ari, my dear,” he said. “That is an excellent f*cking question.” He raised his head to meet my eyes, looking teary. “Let me know if you figure it out.”





22




Another day. Another half-waking from half sleep, another push up from horizontal. Another putting down of your feet on the floor. Another set of motions to go through.

I was stepping out of the shower, wrapping a towel around myself, when the call came. The ringing startled me because I didn’t even know my phone was there, hidden in the pocket of my shorts.

Then I saw the name on the screen, and I startled again.

“Hello?” I said in that voice you instinctively use when you want to pretend you don’t know who’s calling.

“Hey,” said Camden.

The sound of it made my throat cinch tight. I swallowed hard and sat down on the closed toilet seat. “What do you want?”

I’d thought it was possible I’d never hear from him again. So I should have been overjoyed. I was not overjoyed.

“Can you talk?” he asked.

Richard had taken Danielle to camp, and I was supposed to meet him at the store.

“For a few minutes, yes.”

I heard Camden take a deep breath, but he didn’t say anything. Was I supposed to do the talking?

“Camden? I’m here, you know.”

“I know.”

“Uh . . . how’s Vermont?”

A pause. “It sucks,” he said. “Without you, it sucks.”

It’s weird, when something flatters you at the same time that it makes you want to scream.

I tried to keep myself calm. “I’m sorry to hear that, but as you recall, nobody forced you to go.”

“I did. I forced me. Too bad I gave in.”

I swallowed again, as quietly as I could so he couldn’t hear. “Then come back.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Okay, then.” I let my voice sound sharp, annoyed. “So you’re calling me because . . .”

“I want you to come here.”

“Here,” I said stupidly.

“To Vermont.”

I had no response for that.

“You’d love it, Ari,” added Camden. “There are hiking trails and lakes and a big hammock outside my mom’s cabin. We could just be together, without the others. And without the bullshit.”

I was so angry, still, but he spliced these images together like a trailer for an amazing-looking movie.

“Are you talking about a weekend?”

“You could stay longer than a weekend. You could stay . . . Hell, you could stay until school starts.”

I shook the movie trailer out of my head. Why was he doing this to me? And why was I letting him? There was no way I’d be allowed to see that movie, much less live it.

“Camden, I’m grounded. And even if I weren’t, my parents would never let me make a trip like that with you.”

“Maybe they would if they knew how important it was to both of us.”

“Right. Um, I don’t think so.”

“Then come anyway. You know that saying: ‘Act now, beg forgiveness later.’”

“I’d like to know how often things worked out for whoever made that up,” I said, trying to keep it together. “Besides, I have responsibilities here.”

“Let them hire a babysitter. Let them hire someone else to sell craft supplies.”

“Camden . . .”

“You don’t have to keep giving them free labor. They’ll be okay without you.” Camden paused and his tone got low. “But I may not be.”

Ugh. I could even picture his expression when he said this, and how it would make me want to throw my arms around him and kiss hard and long until I’d given him everything I thought he needed. No fair.

“Camden,” I whispered again, then asked the next question that came to mind: “Are you coming back?”

I listened to him slowly breathe in, then out. “I don’t know. My mom’s been invited to stay on through the fall.”

“So . . . you’d stay with her?”

His voice broke apart now.

“Ari, ‘with her’ is one place I know I belong.”

“You could belong to me, too,” I said.

“Hence me inviting you up here.”

I was back to being angry.

“Do you understand that you’re asking me to choose between my family and you? The same way you felt like you were being forced to choose between your family and me?”