It's hard to hold the journal in his hands and not read it. All his most intimate thoughts, all his wildest dreams, are right there, ink on paper. The same paper witnessed all the joys and tragedies of the boy's life; the same paper answers the one question that's been haunting Dawson both in his waking and sleeping hours.
Do you hate me?
And the only thing that separates Dawson from the harrowing truth is the courage to face the consequences.
"Is that my journal?"
Reality plummets on Dawson when he's least prepared to react. Hamilton's voice makes him snap out of his limbo.
He winces. "Yes," then clears his throat, placing the journal on the desk. "I found it on the floor. Closed."
Adam's terrified gaze turns into relief.
Lie to protect the people you care about.
Only trouble is, until that moment, Dawson had no idea he even cared about him to begin with.
*
"What are you thankful for this year?"
Marlene asks, taking a sip from one of the beers that Frank managed to buy from a small bar on the way back to camp. Conway and Thornbury are nowhere in sight, as promised and, as per tradition, the group is sitting around the campfire, sharing what they're thankful for. They're passing around a little rock collected from the river earlier that day and only the person who holds it is allowed to speak, similarly to The Lord of the Flies minus the gore and the thirst for power.
Dawson is on his fifth beer. Cal, who's sitting right next to him, is following suit.
Frank takes the rock, "I'm thankful for my mama," the group sniggers. "Wait, let me finish– I'm thankful for my mama because she's the reason why I get to be here today."
He passes the rock on to Vickie. "I am thankful for my best friend, Karen," she slurs. "She's not here, though."
"We can see that," Dawson jests. Cal chuckles.
"Next," Marlene commands.
Vickie throws the rock in the air and Calliope catches it. She glances at Dawson, a demure smile on her lips.
"I'm thankful for Dawson."
The group falls silent. Noah's jaw almost drops to the ground. Dawson's bewildered gaze is fixed on Calliope.
"From the moment you arrived, you were part of our group. You've been so good to Milo. Abe always pushed to include you in everything we did. Maisie-Rae adores you," she pauses, "and so do I."
Dawson swears he can feel Adam's glacial stare on him.
He turns to look at him without even realizing. His eyes are sad but it's a new kind of sad, one Dawson has never seen before. The sun doesn't set in them. This time around, the only reflection he sees is that of himself, as he breaks Adam's heart without meaning to.
Before he even has a chance to reply, Cal hands him the rock. He spaces out at the realization he has nothing to be truly thankful for. Nothing that really stands out, nothing that's worth mentioning. Or so he thinks.
YOU ARE READING
ALL THE PRETTY GIRLS
RomanceDawson is- most people who don't know him would say- as straight as they come. And senior year away from home promises to be a big year for him: no parents in sight, a whole new set of friends, he just seems to have it all. Not to mention that all t...
