Left Field Love
: Chapter 15

Departure day for the senior trip dawns warm and sunny. Despite my initial reluctance to attend, I feel the first glimmers of excitement as I head toward the gym to drop off my duffle bag. Anticipation swirls around the hallways so thickly it feels like a tangible presence.

Mr. Tanner is the one who checks me in and hands me a paper tag to attach to my bag. He must be chaperoning, which I’m a little surprised by. I’ve never gotten the impression he got into teaching because he loves spending time with young adults.

“Add it to the stack,” he tells me in an unenthused tone once I’ve written my name on the tag. I toss my duffle bag amongst the designer luggage, and then head toward my homeroom.

I sit down right as the final bell rings, then glance at the empty seat beside me. I work my phone out of my pocket and send Cassie a quick text under the table.

Lennon:Where are you??

She’s never late, so something must be wrong. Cassie’s response comes immediately.

Cassie:I woke up with a fever.

A leaden weight appears in my stomach, guessing what that means. She confirms it a second later.

Cassie:I can’t go on the senior trip.

Any excitement I was experiencing disappears. Cassie is my life vest. Without her, I’ll be adrift, bobbing on the periphery.

I text back saying I hope she feels better soon. Cassie’s been talking about the senior trip for weeks. I’m sure she must be devastated to be missing it.

The school day passes quickly; probably because I’m dreading its ending. After the final bell rings, the senior class separates from the crowd of underclassmen to rush toward the coach buses already loaded with our luggage.

I’m one of the few who trails behind reluctantly.

The inside of the bus is plush. Far from a wheezing, yellow one. The air is being circulated, blowing the artificial scent of cleaner throughout the massive vehicle. The central carpet is a light gray. Oversized seats line it, upholstered with some sort of dark gray leather.

I walk halfway down the aisle until I spot a pair of seats that are empty. I sink down in the one closer to the window.

“This seat taken?” I look up. Will’s hovering in the aisle, looking down at me with a friendly smile.

“Nope,” I reply, smiling back. Since Cassie isn’t coming, I assumed I’d be sitting solo.

Will sinks down beside me. “I figured this was exactly the sort of school-sponsored outing you’d try to avoid.”

I laugh. “I tried. My grandfather thought it would be an important life experience.”

“Survival training would qualify, I guess,” Will replies seriously.

My smile widens. “Yeah, I guess so. Cassie’s sick, though, so it could be a lonely weekend.”

“What do you mean?” Will asks.

“Will. You don’t have to pretend like I have friends aside from Cassie. I got comfortable with being an outcast a long time ago.”

“You’re not an outcast, Lennon,” Will replies. I raise both eyebrows, and he correctly interprets my disbelieving expression. “I mean it. Marcus talked about you showing up at his party for like three days.” Will pauses. “And you seem to be pretty popular with the baseball team.”

I nod, awkwardly.

“Huh,” is all I say in response.

“Some people might surprise you.”

I’m tempted to dismiss Will’s words, but he’s the third person to tell me that. Maybe there’s some truth to it.

“We only have a month of high school left, so now’s the time to make new friends, right?”

Will gives me a small side glance that makes it clear he caught my sarcasm.

I’m distracted from our conversation when the popular contingent passes by our row. None of them bother with a second glance, but the first one I catch suggests Caleb might not be thrilled with my choice of seat companion.

I look away, out the window, and keep staring outside for most of the trip. It’s a three-hour drive; most of it through the Kentucky wilderness. Landry might be a small town, but it is a town. The winding road we’re on takes us past the occasional farm, but then it will be fifteen minutes before we encounter another.

When we finally arrive at the campground, the sun has just begun to set, painting the sky with streaks of yellow, orange, and pink. Groves of pines surround the cabins situated on sandy lake shore. The air is still; the surface of the water peaceful.

Mr. Tanner’s booming baritone breaks the tranquil atmosphere as he calls out the cabin assignments. I’m the first name in cabin five, and to my relief, I hear Julie and Shannon are assigned there as well. Just as important, Madison is not.

We’re assigned to tables in the main dining lodge based on our cabins, which solves one dilemma for me. Caleb doesn’t make any attempt to talk to me during dinner, which resolves another.

There’s a massive campfire blazing next to the lake when we walk back to our cabin after dinner. I spot a few classmates darting off into the woods, but most people seem to be actually heading into their cabins. Most everyone is probably biding their time by trying to lull the chaperones into a false sense of security, but I couldn’t care less either way. I don’t have to pretend like this is my usual bedtime, because it actually is.

I’ve just exited the cabin’s small bathroom in my pajamas when Shannon approaches me. “We’re sneaking out in a bit,” she tells me. “Do you want to come?”

I’m surprised—and touched—she’s including me, but it doesn’t change my answer. “I’m really tired,” I reply, giving her a smile I hope conveys how much her offer means. “Rain check? I’ll go tomorrow night.”

Shannon shrugs. “Okay. Night!”

She slips out of the cabin with the other girls right behind her. I climb the rungs of the ladder to my top bunk bed.

Everything inside the cabin is decorated in soothing tones of off-white, honey wood, and light green. We’re so close to the edge of the lake I can hear the water lapping against the shore, and the sound lulls me to sleep.

When I descend the ladder the next morning, it’s to a disaster zone. There’s nowhere to step. Clothes, magazines, and makeup cover the floor. Our cabin looks like the aftermath of a middle school slumber party.

I clear a path to my duffle bag by sweeping most of it toward the side of the cabin with my bare feet. I get dressed, use the bathroom to brush my teeth, and then step outside.

It’s early. I didn’t bother to check the time on my phone, but I’m guessing my internal alarm clock ensured I was up no later than usual. The sun has barely begun to rise.

Each cabin has its own front porch, but I don’t stay on mine. I walk over to the fire pit. Charred remains sit in the center of the stone circle. There’s a long bench on each of the four sides, a thick tree trunk that looks like it was cleaved in half. I expect the surface to be rough, but my fingers skim across it without encountering a single splinter.

I take a seat on the one that faces the lake. Mist hovers across its surface, obstructing my view of the smooth water.

“Had a feeling you’d be up.”

I look behind me, although I don’t need to. I recognize his voice immediately.

Caleb’s walking toward me, hands shoved into the front pocket of his Landry Baseball hoodie, and sleep still visible in his blue eyes.

“Habit.” I shrug.

He takes a seat next to me. My body hums from the proximity. It seems like the amount of time I’ve spent this close to him lately should have built up some immunity to his presence, but my body is excruciatingly aware of the short distance between us.

Caleb seems oblivious.

“Want to do some actual sight-seeing?” He nods toward the lake.

“What? Now?”

“No. In three hours when everyone else wakes up.”

I ignore his sarcasm. “I don’t really think we’re supposed to…” In fact, I’m certain we’re not supposed to leave the campground by ourselves. And we’re definitely not supposed to go out on the lake by ourselves. I imagine the only reason none of the chaperones have mentioned it yet is because they didn’t think anyone would be up this early.

Caleb stands and walks toward the shore. “Come on, Matthews. What are they going to do?”

I stand, following his steps to the edge of the lake. “I’m more worried about you getting us lost.”

“It’s a lake, Lennon. We’ll hit shore, eventually.” Caleb grins, and it’s dangerous. Not because it’s the practiced one I’ve seen him give a lot of girls. Because it’s a secret one I’ve only ever seen him give me.

I cave like a poorly stacked house of cards as soon as a dimple appears. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Caleb hauls a bright yellow canoe from behind some ferns and slides the very front into the blue-gray water. “Get in,” he instructs.

I step inside tentatively, grabbing both sides when the canoe rocks unpredictably. I’m certain I hear Caleb chuckle, but when I glance back, his face is as smooth as the water I’m suddenly surrounded by.

In one graceful shove, he jumps in the small boat and pushes us away from shore. Shifting water gurgles as we move forward, until I can barely tell if we’re moving at all. Everything around us looks the same. As in, I can’t see anything. I can hear the dip of Caleb’s paddle and the occasional slosh, but there’s no scenery passing us by. Just gray mist everywhere.

I spin around on the small seat so I can look at Caleb. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“Oh yeah, I paddle through mist all the time,” he tells me, then rolls his eyes.

“We’re lost, right?”

“What do you consider being lost?” Caleb counters.

“Not knowing where you are?”

“I know we’re on a lake, Lennon.”

“Okay, fine. But do you know when we’ll no longer be on the lake? If we’ll ever make it back to Landry?”

“No.”

“So, you admit we’re lost?”

Caleb chuckles. “No.”

“How big is this lake?” I ask.

“No idea,” Caleb responds.

“Did you go out last night?” I focus my attention on a small ant creeping along the side of the canoe. If it falls, it’ll drown.

“Just played cards with some of the guys in our cabin. You?”

I shake my head, focusing out on the lake. There’s a small shadow in the mist that I squint at.

“Duck!” I shout.

Immediately, Caleb leans forward. I do too, reflexively. The canoe rocks precariously. The paddle Caleb was holding slips off the side and into the water. Our slow momentum comes to a halt, giving the mallard enough time to move out of the path of our incoming canoe.

“What…how—” Caleb glances between the green-helmeted bird and the wooden paddle slowly drifting away.

“There was a duck.”

He blinks, glances at the bird, and then starts laughing. Loud, husky sounds that echo across the surface of the lake. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“You can see it. Right there.” I point toward the duck, who’s rapidly swimming away. I kind of wish I could do the same. Something tells me Caleb’s amusement is heading toward annoyance.

“All I see is our way of getting back to shore disappearing.” Caleb points in the opposite direction, toward the floating oar.

“Won’t we just like, I don’t know, drift toward it? Or paddle with our hands?” I lean down to demonstrate, attempting to drive the currents with the sheer force of my palms. We angle slightly to the right, and then move back to the left.

Caleb bursts out laughing again. Despite the fact we’re currently stranded, I smile.

“Please tell me you didn’t think that would work.”

“Not now, I don’t,” I reply.

Caleb shakes his head before he stands, pulling off his Landry Baseball sweatshirt in one smooth motion.

“What-what are you doing?”

“Getting us back to shore. I thought that’s what your hand paddling was trying to accomplish.”

His sweatpants disappear next. I swallow and look out at the lake. All three feet of it I can see in front of me.

We’ve shared plenty of heated moments, but this is the most I’ve seen of Caleb. Ever.

There’s a quiet splash, then a dark head bobs to the surface of the lake beside the canoe.

“Fuck, it’s freezing,” he informs me.

“Not surprised,” I reply.

“I didn’t hear you offering to jump in, Matthews,” Caleb responds, before he swims toward the wayward oar.

“Here.” Caleb’s back beside the canoe, holding he paddle. He holds it up to me.

I stretch over to grasp the wooden handle, and I don’t realize that was a mistake until I feel the canoe follow my movements. It tilts to the left. All of a sudden, lake water is pouring inside. Caleb was right. It’s cold.

I yelp, and then jump ship. Literally.

When my head emerges from the lake, Caleb is treading water beside me. “Didn’t you get an A in Physics?”

“Of course I did,” I respond through chattering teeth. “You have a plan to get us out of this, I hope?”

“Yeah,” Caleb replies. Then he smiles, which I’m not expecting. We’re treading water in what feels like an ice bath. Why does he look so amused?

“What?” I ask.

“I’m glad you came, Matthews.” The warm feeling his words elicit chases away a bit of the water’s chill.

“I just capsized the canoe.”

“Yeah, you did,” Caleb agrees. Then he kisses me. Familiar heat spreads through me, like a frozen flame.

Kissing in the water is difficult. It’s a challenge, staying afloat and remaining close enough to Caleb to kiss him. We manage to do it, though, until my arms are numb

“We should probably deal with the canoe,” I tell him.

“Yeah, probably,” Caleb agrees. After one final kiss, he swims over to the canoe. He flips it over in one smooth motion, then tows it toward me. The wayward paddle gets tossed inside, followed by our clothes.

Caleb literally has to haul me up and over the side of the canoe. Somehow, I adjusted to the temperature of the water, and the air is cold and unpleasant now that I’m wearing wet clothing. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to retain some body heat.

Caleb makes climbing into the canoe look easy. He gets dressed, and we finally start moving again. The mist is beginning to clear. I can see at least a dozen feet ahead now.

“So your grandfather is managing everything himself this weekend?” Caleb asks.

“Some of his old track buddies are coming over to help, but for the most part, yeah.” I look around at the scenery slowly emerging through the vapor lingering mystically in the air. “I’m worried about him.”

“If you’re worried about a weekend, how are you going to handle leaving him in the fall?”

I exhale. Part of me is surprised this possibility hasn’t occurred to Caleb already. Maybe it has, and this is a test. “I’m not leaving in the fall, Caleb. I’m staying in Landry.”

His face is completely blank. Nothing. “Why?”

“You know why.”

“Did you apply anywhere?”

“No,” I admit. “College is crazy expensive. That’s money we don’t have. And even if I got a scholarship someplace, I can’t leave the farm. Leave Gramps.”

“You could sell the farm. That land is worth millions.”

He says it like it’s easy. Like it’s nothing. Spoken like someone with no attachment to this town.

“Matthews Farm has been in my family for generations. Gramps has lived there his whole life. So have I. I’ve known this is what would happen ever since—ever since my dad died. Gramps can’t manage things by himself. I’m all he has left. He’s all I have left.”

“You’ve known since freshman year.” The words sound flat. Delivered more like he’s talking to himself than to me.

“I didn’t think it…mattered.”

Caleb shakes his head. “Great. That’s just…great.”

“I don’t get why you’re mad,” I say. “Surprised, yeah. But why do you care if I’m here? You’ll be gone.”

“Did you listen to a damn word I said at the field that day, Lennon?”

“Caleb…we both knew this was temporary. I mean, you’re…you. I figured this would have ended a while ago.” I pause. “I’m glad it didn’t. Hasn’t. But I know it will.”

Caleb laughs, but it sounds totally different than before. It’s a hollow, sad sound. “I don’t know where you got the idea this was temporary from, but it wasn’t from me. It’s good to know that’s what you think, though.”

Unease trickles through me, paired with the sinking suspicion I just messed up. “What did you think this was, then?”

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t keep doing this.”

“Keep doing what? I thought we were just, you know, having fun. Messing around.”

“Having fun and messing around,” Caleb repeats.

“I mean…I enjoyed it.” I squeeze the excess water out of the hem of my shirt, wayward drips falling on my legs and the bottom of the canoe. “I know you’re more experienced.”

When I gather the courage to glance up, Caleb is rubbing a palm across his face. The canoe isn’t that big. When his hand lowers, I can see the freckles on his nose and the droplets clinging to his eyelashes. “You think this is about sex for me?”

“I’ve heard the stories. I saw you kissing Madison.”

Caleb’s jaw tenses. “Have you been kissing other guys?”

I laugh; I can’t help it. “Of course not.” Aside from Noah, a sandy-haired surfer who spent a couple of weeks in Landry visiting family the summer after my sophomore year, Caleb is the only guy I’ve kissed since Ryan James in middle school. The suggestion I’m juggling multiple boys is honestly funny.

Caleb’s expression only darkens. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t act like it’s ridiculous.”

“Well, it is. You know how people act around me.”

Now, Caleb laughs. But it’s not really an amused sound. “I know Masterson sat next to you on the bus yesterday. And last night, I learned James is planning to ask you to prom.”

“I…what? Where did you hear that?”

“Where do you think? James had a lot to say about you during cards, actually. Heard all about eighth grade and the conversations you have at your locker.”

“Conversations? It was one conversation, maybe two. He asked me to hang out, and I said no. The end.”

The canoe hits the shore, lurching me forward. Caleb climbs out immediately and I clamber to follow him. He pulls the canoe all the way onto shore, stashing it in the same spot among the ferns.

Then, he keeps walking.

It takes me a second to register he’s really just walking away. And not at a slow pace, either. I have to literally run to catch up with him. “Caleb!”

At first, I think he’s not going to stop. But he finally slows, then turns around. “What?”

“Where are you going?”

He raises his eyebrows, then glances deliberately down at his soaked clothes. “To change.”

“We were in the middle of a conversation!”

“The conversation is over, Lennon. And so are we. Although, according to you, we never even started. So we’re just back to being nothing, I guess.”

“I…” I don’t know what to say. I made a lot of assumptions about me and Caleb, and I guess the saying about that is true. I do feel like an ass.

“We’re fine, Lennon,” he says. “Don’t worry about it.”

But Caleb doesn’t look fine. He looks disappointed and upset. And it twists something inside my chest, knowing it’s because of me. I was so focused on protecting myself—on managing expectations and not getting attached and not losing sight of reality—that it never occurred to me I might have the power to hurt him.

“Where are you playing next year?”

I don’t follow baseball, and I’ve spent years trying to tune out any mention of Caleb. But I know he’s a big deal. Know he should have announced his college choice a while ago and that he hasn’t is a source of speculation.

If he’s surprised by the random question, he doesn’t show it. “I haven’t committed anywhere yet.”

“You-you haven’t? Weren’t you supposed to, a while ago.”

“Yeah, I was.”

“Why haven’t you then? You want to play in college, right?”

“Yeah. I wanna play.”

“You got offers…right?”

He exhales, one corner of his mouth turning up reluctantly. “If you’d ever come to a game, you wouldn’t have to ask me that.”

My fingers twine anxiously as I chew on the inside of my cheek. It never occurred to me to go to one of Caleb’s games. I figured he wanted to relegate any association with me to the periphery of his life. But Caleb has never acted ashamed of me. Those insecurities are all me.

“Hey, Winters!” I don’t turn toward the voice behind me, but Ryan edges into my sight anyway. He glances at me, surprise all over his face. “Hey, Lennon. Didn’t realize that was you.”

“Hi, Ryan.” My voice is wooden as he glances between me and Caleb with a questioning look. Everyone always seems surprised to see us together. It’s hard not to assume it’s because of me.

“There you are, man.” Jake’s voice joins the conversation.

I shift uncomfortably. If Jake and Ryan are up, that probably means other guys are too.

“Why the fuck are you all wet?” Jake asks Caleb, then glances at me.

Caleb ignores the question, turning and continuing toward the row of cabins. Jake looks between me and Ryan, shakes his head, and then follows after Caleb.

“See you later, Ryan.”

I spin and head in the direction of my cabin.

“Lennon! Wait.”

I sigh before stopping. “Ryan, this really isn’t a great time.” I gesture toward my sopping appearance.

“What, you forget a suit?”

“Not exactly.”

Ryan raises his eyebrows, then drops the subject. “Look, you have every reason to hate me. I was a stupid shit back in freshman year.”

“Freshman year? Don’t you mean freshman year, sophomore year, junior—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” He smiles, then tilts his head. “People change, you know?”

“I don’t hate you, Ryan.”

“Great. Wanna go to prom with me?”

Damnit. Caleb was right. “I told you we were over. We’ve been over.”

“You just said you don’t hate me. So…there’s hope.”

He gives me a grin most girls would consider charming.

“No. If I hated you, then there would be hope.”

Twin lines appear between his eyes. “Uh, what?”

“Thank you for asking. But the answer is no. And it isn’t going to change, Ryan.”

“Because of Winters?”

“What? Your ego can’t handle I’m just not interested in dating you? There has to be another guy?”

“Nah, I just thought you were less of a cliché. The whole town is in love with Winters. And since you hate the whole town, I figured Winters would be on that same list.”

“Ryan, I’m sorry if—Actually, you know what? I’m not sorry, about anything. I’ve made it very clear I don’t want to date you. And since you fell in line with everyone else after my dad died, I’m not really interested in being friends with you, either. Leave me alone, and leave Caleb out of it.”

Ryan shakes his head. “You’re awfully defensive, Lennon. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’m friendly with the baseball guys. Winters goes through a lot of girls. At least I’ve been upfront with you. He’ll break your heart and then walk away. Dude doesn’t care about anything but pitching.”

There was a recent time when I would have believed every word coming out of Ryan’s mouth. Nodded along and agreed. But now? I’m not so sure. “I liked you better when you were ignoring me,” I tell Ryan, then head in the direction of my cabin.

Thankfully, he doesn’t follow me. And I’m grateful to discover all my cabin mates are still asleep, meaning I can avoid answering any questions about where I was or why I’m drenched.

After showering and changing into dry clothes, I head to the main lodge where we ate dinner last night. The broad spread of breakfast food—bacon, eggs, waffles, pancakes, quiche, omelets, and fruit parfait—is impressive. I normally wolf down a banana and sometimes a granola bar before heading out to the barn for chores.

I take a random assortment of food and head toward my cabin’s table. Seconds after I’ve sat down, Mr. Tanner stands up to announce the day’s itinerary. The two options are canoeing or hiking. With this morning’s misadventure fresh in my mind, the choice is an easy one for me.

By the time I leave for the hike, I’ve realized more stares and whispers than usual are following me around. I don’t know if they’re related to Caleb or Ryan or something else. Since Cassie isn’t here, I have no insight into what exactly is being muttered under my fellow seniors’ breaths.

By the time we return to the campground, it’s dinnertime. In what’s become a familiar ritual, I eat with my cabin mates. Following dinner, there’s a movie screening. It turns out to be the same spy thriller I saw in the theater with Caleb and his friends. I wonder if the memory is as bittersweet for him as it is for me.

As soon as we return to the cabin from the approved evening activities, things switch to the unapproved. Clothes are tossed around, makeup artfully applied, perfume sprayed.

“Aren’t you coming tonight, Lennon?” Shannon asks.

“Right, sure,” I respond, hiding my surprise. I read last night’s offer as more of an obligation than a serious invitation.

I trail after the rest of the girls, still in my jeans and sweatshirt. Once we’re off the porch, half the group splits to the left and darts toward the woods.

“Where are we going?” I ask Shannon.

“Lee found a clearing in the woods. We’re supposed to meet everyone there.”

I relax a little. Lee Joseph is friends with Will, along with a handful of other people I don’t mind. As far as cliques go, it’s one I can handle socializing with.

There’s not a chaperone in sight, but we stick to the periphery of the campground as we head toward the woods just in case. Eventually we reach a point where we have to dart across the middle of the campground to reach the direction in which we apparently need to head.

We’re halfway across when I make the mistake of looking to my right. There are about a dozen figures huddled around the campfire, silhouetted by the dancing flames and starry sky.

I make direct eye contact with Madison. She smiles wickedly. I look away.

“Lennon! Don’t you want to play?” Shannon and the rest of the girls all stop, so I have no choice but to pause too.

If Madison is inviting me to participate in something, I have no doubt there’s a hidden agenda. But everyone around me is behaving like moths, inching closer and closer to the campfire. Leaving isn’t really an option.

“Play what?” I ask as I walk over to the group gathered around the flickering flames. The group, that I realize with a start, includes Caleb.

“Truth or Dare,” Madison responds. She tosses her hair, shooting me a challenging smirk.

“We can stay for a bit.” Shannon answers before I have a chance to decline, plopping down in an open spot.

The lull in the game turns out to be because of Jake’s current dare. He returns to the fire less than a minute after we’ve sat down, a jar of pickles in hand.

“Couldn’t have been easier, Adams.” Jake tosses the glass container to Colt. Jake challenges Poppy Tisdale to dance for a minute without music next. I stare in the general direction of the lake instead of watching, cringing from secondhand embarrassment.

Maybe the uncomfortable judgment is obvious on my face, but I’m pretty sure Poppy singling me out has more to do with impressing Madison. “Truth or dare, Lennon?” Poppy asks.

“Dare.”

Poppy smirks, then leans back on the bench. “I dare you to kiss Jake.”

Not a challenge I saw coming. A small gasp next to me comes from Shannon. She’s reacting to the fact I was just dared to kiss one of the most popular guys in school. I’m more concerned with his status as Caleb’s best friend.

I stand and take my time walking across the dead pine needles to where Jake is sitting. Right next to Caleb.

As I walk, I weigh my options. There are only two, really. One that will cause harm—irreparable harm—to my ambiguous, strained relationship with Caleb. That should make my choice easy, but I consider it could be easier—better—to take the option away.

I reach the opposite side of the campfire. Caleb is stone-faced and impassive. But as I near the spot where he’s sitting, a muscle jumps in his jaw.

A tiny, barely discernible, involuntary motion. And it decides for me.

I stop in front of Jake and lean forward. He’s wide-eyed, and I can tell he’s resisting the urge to look over at Caleb.

“Don’t move,” I whisper to him.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he hastily swallows. I lean forward.

And kiss him on the cheek.

Before I stand back up, I hear a quick exhale to my left, and that’s how I know I made the right decision. That Caleb wasn’t as indifferent as he seemed.

“You call that a kiss?” Poppy laughs, but I hear the edge of nervousness in her voice as she glances over at Madison.

“Next time you should specify where.” I smile at her sweetly. “I’m going to replace Lee,” I tell my wide-eyed cabin mates, continuing toward the woods instead of sitting back down. They follow me, and it feels like a show of support I haven’t experienced in a long time. Maybe ever.

“That was crazy!” Shannon whispers to me as we walk away from the campfire. “I can’t believe you did that.”

Awe saturates her voice.

I don’t respond. I’m distracted by the eyes I can feel searing my back. If I turned back around, I know they’d be blue ones.

The clearing Lee discovered looks a lot like a stretch of forest that just has slightly fewer trees than the rest of the forest, but at least it’s filled with friendlier faces than the campfire was surrounded by.

I spot Will standing with Marcus and some of the other senior players on the basketball team. He gives me a small wave. I smile back before following Shannon toward a huddle I recognize as containing most of our usual lunch table, Julie, and…Andrew. He looks even more uncomfortable than I feel.

“What took so long? Did you guys get lost?” Eliza asks.

“Nope,” Shannon responds. “Lennon had to kiss Jake Barnes.”

“Wait, what?” Tina gasps, and everyone looks at me. I shoot Shannon a dirty look.

“It was one dare, and I didn’t even do it,” I explain. “Not really.”

“It was amazing,” Shannon interjects. “You guys should have seen Madison Hebert’s face.”

Joe stumbling over saves me from having to field any more commentary. “Hey, look who it is!” He slings an arm around Andrew’s wiry shoulders. “Our esteemed editor…my favorite co-worker…” He nods to Julie. “And our star writer!” He grins at me. “Have you always been this hot, Lennon? Or is it just the vodka?”

Tina squeals. “You have vodka? I thought they searched everything?”

Joe smirks and pulls a flask out of his pocket. “All it takes is a little imagination.”

Pretty soon, I’m in the midst of a lot of drunk teenagers. Laughter and jokes fill the night air that’s tinged with the scent of the pine needles carpeting the forest floor. There’s a sense of community, of belonging, that I haven’t felt in a long time. Sometimes, getting lost in a crowd is nice.

I haven’t acted any differently. Nothing about my past or my popularity status has changed. But I came on this trip. I opened myself up a little, and I wonder if both Caleb and Cassie were right about me isolating myself. It’s a depressing thought, since we’re now only a few weeks away from graduation. My high school years are about to end, and I don’t feel like I have much to show for them.

“I’m going to head back to the cabin,” I tell Shannon, who’s sitting on the rock beside me. It’s been a couple of hours, and I’m struggling to keep my eyes open.

“Okay,” she replies. “Do you want me to walk back with you?”

I’m touched by the offer, but shake my head. “No, I’ll be fine. I remember the way.”

“’Kay. See you tomorrow,” Shannon says, turning to face Lee.

I stand up and head back toward the cabins. The glow of the campfire is easy to see from a distance. As I grow closer, the silhouettes surrounding it come into focus. There are fewer than before, but at least ten still. Caleb is one of them.

I have about twenty feet to decide if I’m going to say anything when I pass by.

My impulses regarding Caleb Winters have always been warped. I took comments I wouldn’t have thought twice about from anyone else like a personal attack. And now, I’m stuck with an uncomfortable, heavy lump in my throat that reminds me of this morning.

So, I stop.

“Can I talk to you?” I ask Caleb. My voice is clear. Confident. Impossible to ignore.

At first, he doesn’t say anything. Finally, he turns his head to look at me. “I’m busy,” he answers, then returns to looking at the fire. His voice drips like bored honey.

“Fine, we can talk here. I—”

With lightning-fast reflexes I’m not expecting, Caleb stands and yanks my hand, hauling me away. He obviously isn’t interested in an audience.

We don’t get very far, though.

“Hey! You two. Stop!” I turn to see Mr. Tanner, of all people, chasing after us, clearly on chaperone duty. An ineffective one, if the fifty kids drinking in the woods are any indication.

He comes to a panting stop in front of us. “Well, this is a surprise.” Mr. Tanner looks between us, and then down at our clasped hands.

My cheeks burn, knowing what assumptions he’s probably making right now. “I just need to talk to Caleb for five minutes,” I blurt.

“Is it related to your English project?” Mr. Tanner questions. I almost, almost think I see a glimmer of a smile in his normally dour expression.

“Tangentially,” I respond. As in, I probably wouldn’t need to talk to Caleb if not for that project.

“Fine. Five minutes,” Mr. Tanner allows.

I’m not expecting his agreement, but I don’t hesitate to take advantage of it. “Thank you!”

“What do you want to talk about?” Caleb asks flatly when we stop about sixty feet later, just on the periphery of the woods.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” I tell him. “I was just trying to make things easier.”

“Easier for who?” Caleb shoots back.

“For both of us. I shouldn’t have assumed anything, but I just figured you were thinking the same way I was.”

“And how’s that?”

“That we’re on two different roads, and they’re about to get a lot farther apart. Making more of this will just complicate everything else…and it’ll end the same way anyway.”

Caleb grasps the back of his neck with one hand, looking down so I can’t see his expression. When he glances at me again, the shadows still block most of it. But what I can see appears resigned. “You know, I always planned to go to Oakmont.”

“Oakmont? That’s in California, right?”

He nods. “Yeah. Get the hell away from my parents, decent weather, girls in bikinis everywhere…”

I flinch. “Did you not get in?” I ask. My tone is snide, and it has everything to do with the jealousy coursing through me.

“They offered me a full ride and a starting spot, actually. I should have accepted on signing day back in February.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“That’s a damn good question.” That’s all he says. But if I squint at the subtext—the tightening around his mouth and the way his hands are clenched—I’m worried his lack of an answer says a lot.

“Look, Caleb. It’s not just the money or the farm. Gramps is forgetful. I don’t know if it’s just…age, or something else. And—whatever it is—I can’t leave him alone. He took care of me after my mom…and then my dad…now it’s my turn. Maybe that’s part of why I never tried to change anyone’s mind about me. I knew it would be harder, when they left and I was still here.” I swallow. “Maybe that’s why I never let myself consider this”—I gesture between us—“because I knew you would be the hardest to see leave.”

Caleb rakes a hand through his short hair. The strands are barely long enough to make the effort worthwhile. “What the hell am I supposed to say to that, Lennon?”

“You don’t have to say anything,” I tell him. “I just wanted to…explain.” Caleb doesn’t say anything. “We can still, uh, you’ll be around all summer, right?” I don’t even know what I’m offering, or trying to say, but I’m suddenly aware my feelings for Caleb are far from superficial.

“I’m spending the summer in Georgia,” Caleb states. “At a baseball camp there. I leave the day after graduation.”

I should congratulate him, but instead I accuse. “You didn’t tell me.”

“I just found out I got in. Why do you even care?”

I glare at him. “You—”

“Matthews! Winters!” Mr. Tanner’s deep baritone pierces the night air like a bullhorn. “Time’s up!”

In more ways than one, I guess.

I turn to head back for the cabins, but a hand grabs my forearm before I can take a single step. “We’ll be right there, Mr. Tanner,” Caleb calls back.

There’s barely any light that’s crept all the way to the perimeter of the campground, but there’s just enough for me to see the jaw muscle that kept me from actually kissing Jake pulsate a couple of times. His thumb traces a circle on the inside of my wrist, sending shivers through my whole body.

“You know I’m in love with you, right?” Caleb asks me.

There are some moments in life when you have a premonition something epochal is about to happen. You can prepare for it. Maybe savor it. Take note of all those subtle details your brain might otherwise skip past like the grooves on a scratched record.

This is not one of those moments.

I’m stunned.

Flabbergasted.

Nonplussed.

I freeze the second he says the words, but I don’t let them sink in. I can’t let them.

“No, you’re not,” I choke out. The world is spinning around me, but Caleb is perfectly in focus.

A single, dry laugh slips through Caleb’s terse lips. “Right. Yeah. Of course you would know how I feel better than I would.”

“I don’t—it’s not—we’re too different, Caleb,” I stutter.

“Only in the ways that don’t really matter.”

I sigh, letting the air escape slowly, like I’m a deflating balloon. “We’re different in an ‘I’m staying here, you’re leaving’ way. I don’t have the time or the energy to be in a long-distance relationship.”

Caleb opens his mouth to speak.

“I don’t want to be in a long-distance relationship.”

Without asking permission, my heart got way more invested in Caleb Winters than it had any right to. If I said those same words he just told me back, I think I would mean them. But letting him in? Letting myself rely on the phrase he just uttered? Letting myself love him and then remaining in a town filled with reminders of him while he goes off to bigger and better things?

I can’t do it.

Caleb’s mouth snaps shut. I hate the hurt I can see swimming in those blue depths. But he’s leaving. Moving on from this town. Moving on from me. Off to a fancy baseball camp and then to an elite university to meet new people with backgrounds as privileged as his.

I’m just the girl he bickers with constantly and occasionally kisses.

He’s about to leave me behind, and selfishly, I’d rather walk away first.

Although Caleb’s the one who spins and strides back toward the cabins before I have the chance to.