"Andrew." Ted's voice rises in protest, but I cut him off.
"Don't call me, Ted. I won't have reception. I'll call you."
Before he can say more, I hang up.
The phone lights up almost instantly with his name on the screen. I ignore it. Of course, he won't respect the boundary I've just set. It annoys me how nothing I want ever seems to matter to him.
Yeah, I'm not sure this thing with Ted is working.
When I think about why I'm trying so hard, the truth is ugly. It isn't about him; it's about me. My stubbornness to make dating apps work. My fear of being alone. Ted is good on paper—great dates, good sex—but everything else is just lackluster. I want sparks and fireworks. Butterflies. All the things I accidentally feel with Vince.
I sigh, remembering what my therapist said about my patterns. How I latch on to people just to avoid loneliness. I'd promised myself I'd left those patterns behind when I moved to LA, but here I am. Back to old habits, using Ted as a security blanket.
I call Gary to let him know I'm coming the next day.
Alone.
Chapter 16
The Patterns We Carry
Andrew
Thecampsitebuzzeswithactivity as I arrive, but I find a quiet moment to set up the fire. Starting fires is second nature to me. Growing up, my siblings and I fought over who got to light the furnace at home. Fires are a way of life in Alaska, and I've probably lit hundreds of them by now.
So far, the trip goes great. Meeting Gary's friends feels a little overwhelming—there are so many—but everyone welcomes me like I've been part of the group forever. It's nice. Unfamiliar, but nice.
I meet a few people I hope to reconnect with later, though I struggle to remember everyone's names in the whirlwind ofintroductions. Aubrey, the loud and funny one, immediately captures my attention with his booming laugh that seems to carry across the entire campsite. He's a part-time commercial actor with a coffee gig on the side, and he tells me between sips of beer that he just shot a local car dealership commercial where he had to pretend to be incredibly excited about financing options.
Wayne, a giant of a man with a baseball cap seemingly glued to his head, speaks little but has a presence you can't ignore. He stands near the fire pit, his shadow stretching long across the grass, occasionally nodding along to conversations but rarely contributing more than a grunt.
Eli, dark hair with tattoos up to his neck, has a sharp confidence and an easy sense of humor that makes my shoulders relax. He catches me staring at his intricate sleeve tattoos and explains without prompting that each piece represents a different chapter of his life, though there seems to be some subtle tension between him, Aubrey, and Todd that I can't quite decipher. I notice how Aubrey's laughter dims slightly when Eli approaches, and how Todd's eyes narrow when Eli makes a joke at Aubrey's expense, the dynamics shifting like tides I'm not yet familiar with.
Eli flirts with me a few times, but it feels playful, not serious. What catches my attention more is his dynamic with Wayne. Eli practically lights up around him, but Wayne barely notices. It's... relatable.
As the sun dips lower, I lean back on the log I've claimed as my seat and poke at the fire with a stick. The crackling warmth settles over me like a familiar blanket.
"Oh, shit. For some reason, I don't expect you to be the one starting the fire."
The voice slides over me, warm and familiar, and I know it's Vince before I even look up.
A grin spreads across my face as I tilt my head back. He's standing there, bathed in the orange glow of the firelight, a soft smile playing on his lips. I shift over on the log, making space.
"Why not?" I ask, my own smile widening.
Vince settles beside me, bundling himself deeper into his jacket, hands shoved into his pockets. He shivers slightly, a small movement that betrays his California acclimation. Too long out of Minnesota.
"I don't know," he says, his gaze drifting over the campsite. "Figured I'd find you hanging on to your mom."
"My mom?"
Vince laughs, a low rumble that vibrates through the log, and nods toward Gary, who's holding court with a group nearby, his gestures animated. I laugh too.
Fair enough.
"You didn't mention coming to this yesterday on our run," I point out, deflecting.
"I wasn’t sure I could make it." Vince nudges me with his elbow, the contact sending a jolt through me. "Did you bring Ted? Am I ever meeting that guy?"
