I still have so many unanswered questions. How was our time together not as earth-shattering for her as it was for me? What happened at graduation that made her stomp the brakes? Her excuses—not wanting to deal with a long-distance relationship, not wanting to upset Annie, that she thought we were better as friends—were weak, especially since westoppedbeing friends after that, and the two of us not being friends is actually what upset Annie.
I realize Brynn is still waiting for my response. “Oh … uh, yeah, something like that.”
Matt lets out a low whistle. “You hooked up with her?” he asks, jutting his thumb toward Olivia’s end of the table. “Congrats, man. She’s hot.”
And this is how rumors get started. I hold up my hand. “No, nuh-uh. First of all, we’re talking about high school. This was, like, five years ago. And we didn’t ‘hook up.’ We were just…”
I’m not sure how to finish that sentence. Just finally, finally creeping toward admitting our feelings for each other? Just flirting like crazy for weeks after going to prom together as “friends”? Just sharing the most incredible kisses I’ve ever experienced?
“We just went to prom together,” I finish lamely. “As friends.”
Brynn tilts her head. “Delaney said something about pining.”
My ears burn.Olivia told Brynn that I’d been pining for her?
Before I can respond, feedback screeches through the room as Linda taps on the microphone to check whether it’s on.
“Hello? Hello?” She blows into it and looks up at us. “Is it working?”
“Yes!” a handful of staffers chorus out loudly.
“Oh, good! As you finish eating, please make your way out to the fire circle. I’ve got a great icebreaker planned to help all of us get to know each other better.”
I slide off the bench to clean up my food—and to escape this conversation. Still, Brynn sticks close to me as I scrape my plate and deposit it in a bin of warm, soapy water along with my silverware.
She’s right at my elbow as I walk out of the mess hall toward the fire circle. “So, you’renotinterested in Delaney?”
I stop walking and look down into Brynn’s face. “No, I’m not interested in Delaney.”
I justify the lie by rationalizing that I findOliviaa heck of a lot more interesting thanDelaney. Olivia is the girl I’ve known since I was twelve and the one I fell for back in high school. The hope that Olivia is still Olivia underneath all that Delaney is what keeps me too interested for my own good.
Brynn smiles brightly and hooks her arm through mine as we start walking again, following the crowd to the fire circle. I don’t shake her off, even though I want to.
I look for Olivia as we arrive and see her in a patch of trees on the periphery of the circle, gathering sticks. Two other counselors are laying bundles of kindling in the fire pit on top of four large logs. The assistant director, Linda’s son Troy, squirts some lighter fluid onto the pile, strikes a match, and tosses it in. Within minutes a fire is blazing.
Olivia approaches Linda with an armful of sticks. I’m too far away to hear what they’re saying, but Linda motions toward the fire pit, and Olivia adds her kindling to the pile.
My eyes follow Olivia as she takes a seat near the same group of women she ate dinner with. She glances at me once but quickly turns back toward the front as Linda calls us to attention.
“For tonight’s icebreaker, I’m going to ask a question, and each of you will get a chance to answer as we go around the group. But only the person holding the sharing stick can talk.”
Sharing stick? Are they for real with this?
Linda turns and bends down, searching the ground behind the log benches. Her mouth pinches, and she says something to Troy, who frowns and drops to his knees, his eyes on the leaves and dirt around him.
The counselors murmur to each other until Linda straightens and calls, “Has anyone seen the sharing stick?”
We all check around our feet and behind us, but I don’t see anything resembling a sharing stick. “What does it look like?” I ask.
Linda purses her lips. “It’s a skinny stick about a foot long. On the top are leather tassels.” She goes on to describe something that sounds very much like a regular stick, but with flair.
Olivia glances back at me again, but this time, she’s grimacing.
Before I realize I’m moving, I slide onto the bench next to her.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper.
She turns her head and startles. “Where did you come from?”
