A thick lock of golden hair falls over his forehead. The urge to reach over and brush it out of his eyes is more potent than any notion of self-preservation I should have, so I don’t even try to stop myself. Luke’s brow furrows with my touch, and he lets out a small sound, almost like a soft moan, but he doesn’t wake. Instead, he shivers like he’s cold now that I’m not there, curling in on himself a little more, trying to get warm. It pulls at myheart in more ways than I can fully comprehend, but I have to remind myself that he doesn’t wantmethere. Not really.
Still, I carefully pull the blankets over him so that he’s fully covered and watch as his face softens. I could sit here and watch him sleep all day, but the time to observe Luke like this has passed, and if I don’t respect that, I genuinely am a creep.
Moving over to my bag, I search for one of the books I packed, even though I had heavily debated whether or not I’d need them this weekend. I didn’t think I’d require the distraction, though I didn’t expect to have the blow-up of the century, either. Now I’m glad I listened to my better judgment.
As quietly as possible, I unzip the tent and go outside, shivering slightly in the crisp morning air. Dragging a camp chair to sit in a sunbeam, I open my book. At first, it’s hard to settle into it, but my concentration is eventually sucked into the fictional world and transported away from the real-world problems I’m trying to avoid.
For a little while, I can forget my own life and fully immerse myself in theirs.
Sometime later, a hand taps my shoulder, scaring the shit out of me. I snap back to reality to find Marcus standing at my side, watching me closely. I blink with confusion. How long has he been there? Tiff is almost done building a fire across from me, and I never heard any of it. She’s only a few feet away.
Marcus frowns. “Damn, you were zoned out. I haven’t seen you do that in awhile.”
“Sorry,” I mumble, rubbing at my eyes, which I now realize are also stinging. Reading almost two hundred pages for a couple of hours straight will do that to you. “It’s a good book.”
“Apparently.”
I sense Marcus studying me, but I shrug it off.
“Did you sleep okay?” he asks, attempting to sound innocuous, but he can’t hide the concern from his voice.
I sigh. “Not really, but I’ll be fine.”
Marcus and Tiff share a pointed glance, and for some reason, it irritates me. What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
“Did you and Luke get into a fight?” Tiff suddenly asks, her face full of sympathy.
My heart leaps in my chest, and my brows furrow. “No… Why?”
“We heard you guys arguing last night.”
Fuck. It’s not like I forgot we weren’t alone out here, but it was so late at night that I assumed everyone was asleep. I’m sure I wasn’t exactly quiet. I just never stopped to think that we might have had an audience for our little scene. I wrack my brain for whatever the hell I may have said, but I’m reasonably sure it wasn’t anything too revealing, at least not about what happened on the beach. To them, the fight could have been about anything.
I’m not ready to have this conversation, especially given the context and their lack thereof. Now isn’t the time to reveal my truth when I’m too raw from everything else.
“It’s fine.” I shrug, returning to my book.
I can feel their questioning stares beaming down on me, the tension in the air so thick you could cut it with a knife. I know they’re dying to ask me what happened, but thankfully, they leave it there.
“Well, I’m going to start on breakfast.” Tiff shrugs. “Do we want blueberry or chocolate chip pancakes?”
“Chocolate chip,” Marcus practically shouts, like any other option is sacrilege.
The thought of food churns my stomach unpleasantly. “I’m not hungry.”
“Pretty sure he just said chocolate chip.” Marcus arches a brow at me. “You heard chocolate chip, right? I heard chocolate chip.”
“Someonesaid chocolate chip.” Tiff laughs, rolling her eyes as she moves to the picnic table to get started.
I shoot Marcus a dull look, but he simply smiles back at me innocently, even though he knows I know what he’s doing. It doesn’t need to be said that his interest in my lack of appetite comes from years of our shared experiences with my previous eating disorders. Instead of being comforting, it’s suffocating to have him acknowledge it like I’m two seconds away from having a mental breakdown or something. I’m really not. I just might throw up if I try to eat.
But I don’t comment on it. It’s not worth the fight while I’m in a piss poor mood. Marcus’s motivations are built on a foundation of love, but he doesn’t have to go off acting like a mother hen about it.
Can’t a guy just sit and brood over a severed connection with another boy in peace?
While Tiff cooks breakfast, I try to go back to reading, but the task proves mostly unsuccessful as more and more people start waking up.
First, Liz comes out looking like the most well-rested one here. She’s practically glowing as she bounces around the campsite, cleaning up from last night. Then Laura and Ben come out of their tent and sit across from me, trying to make small talk until I scare them off with whatever look must be on my face. They both get up quickly and decide to help Tiff cook instead.
