"Why?"
"Because he fucking hates my guts."
His tone is flat, but I can see how much it hurts him. He looks down at the ground, his earlier enthusiasm draining away. We walk the rest of the way back in silence.
Hindsight's always twenty-twenty. Maybe Aubrey and I are both just figuring things out tonight.
When we get back to camp, Vince grabs my hand and, without a word, drags me away from Aubrey and toward his tent.
"Get in," he says, unzipping the door while glancing over his shoulder at the campsite.
I raise an eyebrow at him, trying not to laugh. "Vince, I know I got caught up in the moment back there and all, but we can't do that here—"
"I'm not trying to fuck you in the middle of the campsite while everyone's eating dinner, Andy. Relax." His voice is deadpan, though a small smile plays at the corners of his lips. "I just want to talk to you somewhere private, without these idiots interrupting every five seconds."
Still laughing, I duck into the tent. "Whatever you say."
Vince follows me in, zipping up the tent behind him. The way he smiles at me, those warm brown eyes locked on mine, makes my chest feel like it might burst. I grin back, unable to help myself.
"You'd totally fuck me in this tent if I asked you to, though," I tease.
He doesn't even blink. His expression remains utterly neutral, which makes it so much funnier.
"Am I wrong?" I burst into laughter, feeling like a giddy idiot. I can't stop smiling, and being with him like this makes everything else, the wind outside, the campsite drama, the cold... completely fade away.
Vince laughs under his breath, shaking his head as he slips off his shoes and joins me inside. "You're unbelievable."
I lean on my elbow, lounging comfortably as he settles beside me. "You know, I promised Aubrey I wouldn't leave him alone tonight."
"Relax," Vince says, brushing it off. "It's just a few minutes, and Gary's with him."
Lying in a tent with Vince after everything that just happened feels surreal. "This kind of reminds me of boy scouts," I say, letting my voice drift into the memory. "Crawling into tents to tell ghost stories, sneaking stolen marshmallows... Kissing a boy in your tent before the troop leader realizes you're not at thebonfire with everyone else. Then, when he finds out, making you pick up all the trash and haul it to the dumpster a mile away.Instead, you end up making out behind the dumpster—"
"Damn, Andy," Vince cuts me off, grinning wide. "I don’t know if anyone’s toldyou, but I think you might be gay."
I laugh, tracing the line of his eyebrow with my fingertip. "Hey," I say softly, pulling my hand back to focus. "Do you know why I used to hate being called Andy so much?"
He tilts his head, waiting for me to continue.
"It's all I ever heard growing up," I start, the memories rushing back like they were just waiting to be spoken aloud. "Iwas a wild kid.Didwhatever I want,didn’tcare what anyonethought. My parentswerehands-off, theyhadtoo many kids to keep track of, soI wasalways getting into trouble."
I smile faintly, remembering the chaos of it all. "My dad yelling my name, my mom worrying about how upset I make him. Teachers, my troop leader...wasalways 'Andy this, Andy that.' Itfeltlike my namewasa punchline."
Vince chuckles softly. "Whatwereyou even getting in trouble for? Skipping class to feed the birds?"
"Something like that," I laugh. "Not finishing my homework. Giving my dinner to my baby brother becausehe didmy chores.Anyway, it got to the point where every time I heard someone yell my name, I'd immediately brace myself. It was a reflex. It stuck with me for a long time."
Vince interrupts, his voice quiet but steady. "I'm a fucking asshole."
I blink, caught off guard. "What? No, you're not—"
"I didn't know." His expression turns serious now, guilt shadowing his features. "I'll call you Andrew from now on. I swear."
I can't help but laugh. "Vince, no. You're joking, right? I don't care anymore. You've completely desensitized me to it. It'd be weird if you changed now."
"But—"
"Nope." I grin, cutting him off. "You're stuck with Andy. It's too late."
