It was akin to the way my phone had felt strange in my hand that morning—a relic I wasn’t familiar with. Suddenly Teddy was the human version of that.
Which was good, in a way. It would make my departure easier.
“We’re not going to stay in touch, are we?” he whispered in my ear, his breath making me shiver.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I said as I pulled away. Just like the hole dance didn’t fit into my real life, neither did my rock star camp boyfriend.
“What’s not a good idea?” Rory asked.
“Right,” Teddy said. “You’ll be busy with your empire. And your crone duties.”
“Yourwhatduties?” Rory said.
“Bye, Miller,” Teddy said, stepping back from me and lifting a palm.
“Bye, Knight.”
And that was it.
How could something that felt so monumental end with so little fuss?
It hadn’t been monumental, though, I reminded myself. That had been the whole point. It had been convenient, and now it wasn’t anymore.
Last hurrah: I could check that off my list.
To my surprise, Rory didn’t get on my case as we pulled away from camp. We talked about the show, and she filled me in on the happenings at the studio: someone’s check for the fallsession had bounced, Keira—a little shit I was this close to ejecting from the studio—had written on the wall under Miss Miller’s Morals, the phone bill was due tomorrow and Rory hadn’t known how to pay it.
I was being bombarded by the minutiae of my empire. Of my life.
I didn’t care about any of it at the moment, but I was happy to let it wash over me, because it meant Rory was keeping her mouth shut on all matters camp.
Until we hit Hinckley, where we stopped at Tobies for their iconic caramel rolls. I had let my guard down, because when she said, “You have something going on with that Teddy guy, don’t you?” I spilled my coffee.
I bought time by grabbing some napkins and cleaning up the mess. I considered lying, but what would be the point? I wasn’t going to see Teddy again. He had served his purpose in my life, as had I, I hoped, in his. We’d had some spectacular sex, and as a bonus, I felt like he’d worked out some of his mental junk. Not that I took credit for that exactly, but I liked to think I’d helped.
Not bad, as far as last hurrahs went.
It was weird that I hadn’t told Rory about Teddy. She and I told each other everything. I could blame the fact that I hadn’t on having ditched my phone. Now, though, I was back in the real world, and in the real world, I didn’t keep secrets from Rory.
More importantly, there was noreasonto keep Teddy a secret. Yes, I’d skulked around camp trying to be incognito, but that had to do with not wanting to be the subject of gossip, with not wanting people all up in my business.
“Ididhave something going on with him, past tense.” Iwaggled my eyebrows. “We had a camp-friends-with-benefits thing going.”
She slapped the table. “I knew it! Tell me everything!”
“There’s not much to tell. We got lost in the woods together, and one thing led to another.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”
“I wasn’t using my phone.”
“Yeah, but you were getting it on with a famous rock star! You didn’t think that merited telling me?”
“I’m telling you now.”
“I didn’t tell you about Mike to begin with.”
That was true. She’d kept her dealings with her now husband on the down-low for a long time. But I didn’t see what that had to do with anything. “So?”
