Today hasn't been the worst day. Sure, having Grayson being the world's most obnoxious shadow wasn't the greatest start. He was knowingly trying to make a point, but he was on time for once, so the outcome was worth the annoyance, mostly.
And though I don't actually want to admit it, his knack for precisely bending the rules actually worked out. The kids had fun, and that's what's most important. Not that I condone throwing the camp plan out the window, but being in the woods gave them way more than any search around buildings.
My afternoon wasn't half bad either, seeing as I got to stay outside, running some games. I don't mind the indoor stuff, but there's something to be said about being outside, a sense of freedom and boundless escape that the confines of a room doesn't quite provide.
I bend down to throw the last jersey into the netted bag, waving to Kristen, my fellow leader for the afternoon. Seeing as all that's left is to carry the equipment bag to the shed, I offered to handle the rest.
The subtle buzz of my phone vibrating against my side has me pausing briefly. Ben's name plays across the screen and I can't help but check the time. It's not unusual for him to call me right after my day is done, but I'm usually back at the house before he's calling.
"Hey," I answer, resting the phone between my ear and my shoulder as I throw the bag of equipment over my arm.
"Hi," he responds in a quiet voice, one lacking his usual pep.
I continue my way to the shed. "Can I call you back in like twenty minutes?" I question, ignoring the fact that he's still quiet. "I'm just cleaning up my station and then I'm heading back to the house with June."
"Uh," he begins, still quiet and unsure. "Can we just talk for a minute?"
I drop the bag into the shed, closing and locking the door before wiping a small layer of sweat from my forehead. "Okay," I let out.
"So," his hesitant voice drags the word out as I wait for whatever it is that has to be said right now. "We've been together for awhile now, right?"
I scan the field, checking to make sure I picked everything up before I make my way to the solo bench that occupies the tiniest bit of shade. "Yeah," I acknowledge without actually doing the math of how long it's been. Ben is usually the one to keep me aware of the quantitative value of our relationship.
"Eight months," he states, giving me the exact number I was lacking.
"Yeah," I agree again. "That's a good while." Did I miss a milestone again? I swear I had no idea a six month anniversary was a thing. I thought it was all based on years, and quite frankly, I thought that was something married couples kept track of. But Ben is the sentimental type, something I learned pretty quickly. If I had known eight months was also a thing, I would have done something for him.
"I love you, Mia," he mumbles the words, placing them in the atmosphere like he has so many times before. This one feels different though. It feels like it's hinging on a response. One he knows I'm not ready to give.
"I know," I nod, even though he can't actually see me.
There's a quiet exhale through the phone, the wave of his disappointment connecting through the distance. I know he's frustrated. I know all he wants is to feel that love returned, but I just... I can't. I can't offer something I don't completely feel. But I try in other ways. I try to show him I care, that he's important.
"You know." He repeats, but the frustration is still there.
"What do you want me to say, Ben? Do you want me to just throw the words back without meaning? Do you just want to hear them because that's what's expected?" I'm not trying to sound defensive, keeping my voice as calm as possible, but I'm also tired. I'm tired of defending my feelings for him, of trying to convince him he does mean something to me, I'm just not there yet.
"No," he answers, still a faded version of his usual peppy self. "I don't want you to lie, Mia. I just want you to be where I'm at, to feel what I'm feeling. But I don't think you ever will."
His words slice through me, the realization of where this conversation is going and why his voice is void of joy starts to click into place.
"Look," he continues before I have a chance to respond. "I fell in love with you a long time ago. It was fast. And I was okay waiting because I knew that what we had was good. But you going away this summer, and us being apart when we go to college, I just...it's getting a lot harder to feel what I do knowing you can't return it."
My head falls to my hand, his words carving into my chest. "It's not that I can't return it Ben, it's just that-"
"You don't want to," he finishes for me.
"What?"
"Mia," he jumps back in. "If you wanted to fall for me, to let yourself fall, then you would have by now. But you're still not there. And honestly, it fucking sucks to sit back and feel like what you're offering isn't enough. That no matter what I do, you're just not in this. Not in the way I am."
"Okay," I nod, getting what he is saying. "I understand what you feel when I can't return those words, but wanting to stay together through college, despite the distance, doesn't that tell you this isn't one sided? Doesn't that show you that I'm in this too?"
He's quiet, his breaths falling heavy as he prepares his next set of words. "I started seeing someone."
The words jump out in front of me, my back straightening as I take in exactly what he's saying to me right now. "I'm sorry," I shake my head, still trying to register what the hell just came out of his mouth. "You what?"
"I didn't mean for it to happen this way, but you have to understand how lonely I've been. Not just with you gone, but how alone I feel even when I'm with you. You don't let me in, Mia. You keep me close enough to be considered a couple but you're constantly pushing back any time I try to close this space between us."
"So, you're blaming me for you seeing someone else?"
"No. No, that's not what I'm saying."
"Did you sleep with her?"
"Mia-"
"I asked you a question, Ben. What exactly constitutes seeing someone else?"
He sighs. "No. I didn't sleep with her. We've just been hanging out and, well, last night I kissed her. I let her kiss me back and things just kind of kept going. When I didn't want to actually stop her, I realized-"
"That you're a cheating asshole?" I fire back.
"Mia-"
"No," I cut him off. "I really don't care what you have to say or what explanation you're trying to offer right now. You didn't want a challenge, remember? You didn't want to try long distance at all. And it's fine. If I really think about it, I didn't either. So you did us both a favor and just proved to me why I don't let guys in. You're all the fucking same. So don't give me some lame ass excuse about why you did it. Just own up to it, and we can both go our separate ways."
"That's it?" He questions, the quiet hesitance from earlier dropping from his voice.
"Did you cheat on me?"
"Yes."
"Then that's it," I pull the phone from my ear, hanging up before slamming it on the bench.
I'm so done. I'm done trusting stupid guys who think with their stupid penises. It all boils down to the same thing. They're cowards. Afraid to say what's truly on their mind, to confront the truth. Instead, they shuffle between the innocence of white lies and something much deeper.
Okay, I'm exaggerating. But come on, it's been two weeks and he couldn't even stay faithful. And they've been talking? How long have they been talking? This doesn't just happen on a whim. He should have just been honest with me, and sooner, if he was tired of waiting on me to come around and feel what he wanted me to feel.
This is exactly why I don't let myself fall. If I had been in love with him, the pain I'd be feeling right now would be debilitating. I've seen it. I've seen friends crumble from the heartbreak of a guy, I've seen the inability to get out of bed, the need to power through a whole tub of ice cream. I don't feel any of that. I just feel pissed at the betrayal, at the fact that he proved to be like all the rest of them.
I know healthy love exists. Heck, I was raised by it for the better part of my life. Seeing the way Tommy makes my mom smile, the way they both still light up in each other's presence is proof that the good kind of love is out there. The problem is, I know that the ugly type is there too. That if you're not alert, it can pull you under and swallow you whole. And I don't know how to decipher between the two. When to trust someone and let yourself fall to the vulnerability of love, and when to keep your guard up.
So instead of taking a risk, I just stay cautious. I always leave a shield in place just in case. And maybe that makes Ben right, maybe I just won't let myself fall, but is that such an issue? Is guarding my heart such a terrible thing? Can't you just be with someone, laugh with them and enjoy the various pleasures of a relationship without having to actually fall? Can't a true and honest like be enough?
I don't even know anymore.
I grab my phone, shooting off a text to June to let her know I'll be running back to the house, instead of our usual carpool in Sadie's minivan. I need a minute to cool down, to work this all out. I'm angry. I'm pissed that the one guy I deemed as a good one would betray what we had, would take everything and just forget about my feelings. If he wasn't happy, he should have left. But cheating?
The thought has my stomach twirling as I stand from the bench. I can't think about it anymore, of the inevitable feelings of not being enough, of not being pretty enough or good enough to keep him interested. It's a punch to the gut, a message that someone else was better, more worth it, less trouble. And it fucking hurts.
I make my way past the now empty rooms, all leaders and campers long gone, ready to enjoy the rest of their day. But as I pass the workshop, a pair of voices fills the hall, causing my legs to stop.
"You did good today, Gray," a deeper voice sounds through the door, and the use of the shortened name has me placing what must be Mr. Adler's face to the voice.
"It wasn't too bad," I can hear Grayson now, the lightness in his voice falling across me.
"That was a good group of kids."
"Yeah they were," Grayson acknowledges. "I worked with them this morning, too. We were in the woods doing the scavenger hunt."
"They did have the happy forest glow about them," the sound of his dad's voice is enough to let me know he's beaming at the thought. "That one carrying around the giant stick reminded me of you. Always walking around with something you collected from the woods out back."
It's quiet for a moment, only the sounds of supplies being moved ricochet against the walls as I take a step closer to the door, settling into a conversation I shouldn't be listening to.
Grayson speaks up, "Hunter's a cool kid. And it's not just a stick. It's a sword."
The sound of their laughter has my smile widening at the events of today. The good ones. The moments in the woods, the very ones I was so hesitant to go. Seeing Grayson interact with Hunter was something unexpected. I mean, he's been good with the kids, playing and messing around with all of them. I always chalked it up to the fact that he's still a giant version of them. But listening to him give Hunter that needed attention, to actually notice Hunter's hesitance and embarrassment about what he saw in that stick and make it something cool, I don't know, made me start to see things a bit differently.
"It's been awhile since you've been in the shop," his dad's voice cuts back in, drawing my attention back to the room.
"It has."
It's quiet again, my curiosity rising at the small sounds playing in the room. I take a risky step forward, peering into the crack of the open door, and see that I was definitely right about it being Mr. Adler in there. He's leaning against one of the large tables, hands resting on the edges behind him as he watches his son. Their resemblance is astounding, and my eyes are glued to the entire scene.
Grayson's working on something, his focus completely engulfed in the project at hand. I've never seen him so entranced in something before. His hands move, gliding across the wood in front of him, feeling the grooves as he takes a slight step back, admiring the work. His face scrunches slightly as he steps forward again, a small paper in his hand raised to the top of the wood, working its way back and forth. The motion is slightly mesmerizing, the flexes of muscle in his forearm flickering as my gaze moves to his face. He leans in slowly, his lips pursed as he gently blows away the dust he's created.
Mr. Adler's voice breaks me from my trance. "I'm proud of you. You know that, right? All the tricks aside, all the punishments you've clearly picked up on, it's all the result of the choice you made-"
"I know," Grayson exhales, standing tall and taking a step away from his work again.
"But I'm still proud of you," his dad continues. "How you've taken everything we've thrown at you, and today...watching you help these kids, you're making an impact, Gray. Whether you see it or not, your work here means something."
There's a flutter that catches my heart at Mr. Adler's words. The way they match my exact feelings, mirror the whole purpose of this camp and our role as leaders.
My eyes fall back to Grayson, waiting to see a reaction, to watch for his usual smug grin and cocky response.
I don't get any of that, though. Instead, he smiles. It's a real smile, genuine.
"Like I said," he shuffles slightly. "The place is growing on me."
"The place," his dad begins, "or the people?"
That same quiet falls across the room as I wait for his response.
"Both," he finally speaks. "I don't know, there's something about these kids. They just light up and sometimes I have no idea why. But when they do, it's just...I don't know." His eyes drop to the ground as I take in his words. I know what he's saying, what he's trying to express. I just never thought I'd see Grayson Adler making the connection. "It's rewarding, I guess. To be a part of why they smile."
He shrugs his shoulders, making his way back to the project in front of him, moving on from the small emotional reveal he just had. I take a step back, his words swirling around. Maybe he's not just a cocky, arrogant football player. Maybe there really is more beneath the surface.
His words from the morning after the bonfire dance in front of me, You can't always judge a book by its cover.
Is that what I've been doing? Have I been judging him? His pranks, his tardiness, the constant need to get under my skin, all of it flashes in front of me. I don't think that's just blind judgment, I think it's all he's given me. But maybe there's more he doesn't let everyone see. Maybe there really is something worth reading beneath the cover.
I take a small step back, ready to give them the privacy they think they already have when his dad speaks again, "Your mom and I are going out tonight." Grayson's eyes lift to his dad's, the two of them watching each other for a moment, some unspoken conversation playing between the two of them. "I'm not going to say you have to stay home with Cece. But I know she'd love to spend some time with you if you don't have other plans."
I watch as Grayson sways slightly, his eyes giving the wood in front of him one more glance before he lifts his head. "I'll think about it."
His dad nods, turning toward the table still scattered in tools. He loads them up, slides his bag from the table, and turns to face his son once again. "And Gray?"
Grayson's eyes lift, "Yeah?"
"The ATV keys are in the junk drawer."
I don't stick around to hear what else they have to say, I've intruded long enough. And to be honest, the vulnerability in their conversation has me aching for home, for that same sense of comfort, familiarity, and understanding from my own parents.
My stomach sinks at the memory of that phone call with Ben. A phone call. He told me he started seeing someone else over the phone, a whole country between us.
What I wouldn't give to fall into my mom's arms and tell her everything. Tell her how angry I am at him, how much I feel like a complete idiot for ever trusting him. I want to run to Tommy and see the same flash of anger in him, his instinct to protect me taking over. I want to sit between them both and feel their warmth, hear their reassurance that everything will get better. I want to ignore the events of today and play a board game with my brother and sister, letting their laughter and pure competitiveness fill the painful gaps of today.
I just want home.
I make my way down the hall, out the main door, and straight to the parking lot. It's nearly empty at this point. A truck and Grayson's precious Hellcat, his prized possession. The very one he tried so desperately not to let me drive last weekend. Boys and their toys.
I don't know how long I'm staring at the empty concrete in front of me, how long I've lost all track of my thoughts. But by the time the main door opens again and slams shut in the distance, followed by the shuffling of feet and laughter behind me, I'm still planted in place. My body still frozen to the ground, instead of flying down the sidewalk and jogging home the way I had planned.
"Mia?" Grayson shows up beside me, his voice soft but slightly confused.
I glance over, watching as he turns and mutters something to his dad, the two of them exchanging a nod as Mr. Adler passes by us.
"Hey, Mia," he waves at me, offering a smile. The same smile as his son's. Same hair color, same eyes, same broad shoulders. Geez. Up close like this, I can see just how alike they truly look. Grayson is the spitting image of this man.
"Hi, Mr. Adler," I wave back, returning the kindness with a smile of my own.
He pauses with a laugh, and shakes his head. "Please, it's Danny. How's camp going?"
I nod, smiling wider as I acknowledge his request. "It's good, just as it always is."
"That's good to hear." He gives me another wave, and then slides a hat onto his head, the bill placed backwards. "Take it easy," he adds, glancing over at his son again with a quick nod as he heads to his truck.
Grayson returns the gesture before stepping in front of me. My eyes stay with him for a moment longer, taking in the gentle way he moves toward me, void of his usual arrogance.
"What are you still doing here?" he asks, still sauntering closer.
I shuffle slightly, thinking about everything. About Ben, about my family, about California. About how I'm still planted in this parking lot, unable to get myself to move.
"I told June I needed to run back, get some fresh air..." My words fall short, lacking any true meaning behind them. That was the plan, to let everything out in a run and let myself breathe.
But I need so much more than fresh air. And now I'm stuck, unable to actually get my legs to carry me where I need to go. Because I don't actually need a run right now. I need home. I need my mom, I need my family.
Grayson takes another step forward. "Do you want a ride?" he offers, no other questions. And no snarky remarks about the fact that I'm standing in a nearly empty parking lot.
My eyes slide up to his, the thoughts of his conversation with his dad playing back across my mind. Of the way he revealed another side to himself, a side I shouldn't have let myself eavesdrop on. "I'm," I begin, gathering my thoughts, "I don't need a ride. I can run."
"I didn't ask if you needed a ride, Mia," he responds, reaching for one of the strings of my hoodie that's fallen over my shoulder. He slides it back into place, before dropping his hand to his side. His voice is still calm, more warm than it usually is. "I asked if you wanted one, from me."
My eyes cling to his, holding the softer shade of brown that fills them when he's being sincere. It's different from the darker shade that falls across when he messes around or the brighter one that shines through when he laughs.
"Yeah," I nod slowly, thinking about how much I just want to crawl into bed and call my mom. I hate that I have to call her, that home is so far away. There's a drop in my stomach, an ache that's pulling against me. I've never been homesick before, not like this. But I just feel so completely alone.
As I slide into the passenger's seat, Grayson starts the car. He doesn't move, just lingers there before my eyes trail to his.
"Are you okay?" He questions, watching me carefully as his hand rests on the gear.
"Yeah," I answer quickly, regretting how weird I must be acting for him to ask me something like that. "I'm just missing home."
He hums softly, looking out across the parking lot for a moment before bringing his eyes back to mine. "If you were home right now, what would you be doing?"
Easy. There's only one thing that has always cheered me up, one sense of solace every time I feel down. A smile works its way to my face as the thought crosses my mind. "Hot chocolate," my smile widens. "I'd be in the kitchen, sitting with a big cup of hot chocolate."
His eyebrows raise just slightly, but a nod quickly follows. And so does a smile. "Alright then," he says, shifting the car and taking off out the parking lot.
*****