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Brittany was asleep.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want her; I just didn’t feel anything for her.
She was a friend, but my uncle had forced even that. Aunt Miranda seemed indifferent about whether we dated, but on more than one occasion in the last three years, Uncle Anthony had tried to set us up.
I was partly to blame. After that first kiss on the night of my eighteenth birthday, I think I gave her false hope that we would end up together. But the truth was I couldn’t make myself feel something I didn’t feel.
My heart belonged to another; it always would.
I paid the cabbie and lifted Brittany out of the taxicab. Our shared house was on the outskirts of the University District. A modern two-story, four-bedroom house with a small pool and awesome roof terrace—just another way Uncle Anthony had sweetened the deal for me to attend Ohio State instead of applying to schools out of state.
Attending college hadn’t even been on my radar back when I lived in Lancaster, and for as much as I hated my life in Columbus sometimes, I couldn’t deny that my aunt and uncle opened up doors for me and my future.
In some ways, it was as if I were two people: the Blake I showed to my uncle and aunt and all of their rich friends, and then there was the Blake I was in private. The Blake, who still dreamed of nights under the stars in No Man’s Land, and a future with a girl who stole his heart when she was just a sad-eyed, freckled twelve-year-old.
Maybe I should have pushed harder.
Maybe I should have packed a bag, driven out to Lancaster, and demanded to see Penny.
But in the end, I was weak.
I let my uncle dictate the rules, and I fell in line.
Even when I received Penny’s card, even after I kissed Brittany, I still wanted to go and find her. To track Penny down and demand answers.
Uncle Anthony had tracked me down, for fuck’s sake—I was pretty certain his resources could find anyone eventually. But somewhere along the line, I gave up. I accepted my fate and played the role expected of me. The only thing I had was Camp Chance—my tiny slice of normal among my life of fake smiles and even faker personalities.
My uncle had originally sent me to volunteer at the summer camp for foster kids in Hocking Hills as punishment for the final time I had tried to sneak out and see Penny. But he had underestimated my love of the outdoors and my patience with the teen boys I was there to guide.
I saw so much of myself in those kids that after that first summer, I begged Troy, the owner-manager, to let me return the following year.
It had taken some persuading with my uncle, but Aunt Miranda stepped in, and he came around. She thought it was good for me to have time away from the family business, and I think she was worried it would only push me further away if my uncle didn’t agree.
This year would mark my fourth season out at Camp Chance, and I couldn’t wait. The sooner I was away from my uncle and Brittany, and all of the shit that being a Weston brought with it, the better. My name didn’t matter in a place like that.
All that mattered was who I was on the inside.
“Blake, I think I’m going to hurl.” Brittany retched, and I scooped her up and rushed to the bathroom.
Camp Chance suddenly felt like a whole world away.
She slid out of my arms and crumpled to the floor, pushing her head down the toilet. I stood outside waiting as she deposited her stomach contents into the bowl. When she stopped puking, I offered her a wet towel and some water.
“Thanks. I think I’m dying.” She held an arm over her head.
“You’re not dying. Come on. I’ll tuck you in,” I half-mocked.
It wasn’t the first time I’d played nursemaid to Brittany. She had a tendency to go overboard on Bellini’s or Long Island Iced Teas or whatever the hell she felt like drinking. I wouldn’t say she had a problem, but she was a total lush.
Part of me wondered if it was her way of coping with the pressures bestowed on her by her family.
I shut down, and Brittany got wasted.
She didn’t argue as I scooped her up and carried her upstairs to her room. I laid her on the bed and pulled off her shoes. She groaned and rolled onto her side, drawing up her legs. “Hit the light on your way out,” she murmured. “Don’t let me sleep past nine. I have to meet Daddy for breakfast.”
“Sure thing,” I said, glancing back at her lifeless form on the bed.
“And Blake?” Her voice stopped me in my tracks as I reached the door.
