17. Jack

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

jack

Maggie ignores me the rest of the way down the mountain. Which sucks because not talking to someone for over ten miles of hiking? Yeah, that's not fun. Especially since we're in such a small group. And when I feel like garbage physically.

"What happened?" Graham asks as we reach the last mile of our hike. Fiona and Maggie are up ahead of us once again, and my heart hurts every time I see Maggie's ponytail swinging back and forth. Which is a lot, because I can't seem to keep my eyes off of her.

"She told me what happened. One of my buddies back in high school knew we had feelings for each other and played a cruel joke on her. I didn't know. Then, somehow, because I think I must be cursed or something, because by some stupid chance, that same girl I'd been on a date with called me earlier, and then texted saying to text her when I want to hook up again. But we never hooked up, and I was never even interested in her."

Graham nearly trips over a rock. "Wait, back up. What?"

I take a deep breath and slow down, telling him everything that happened back in high school, both my side and Maggie's, and about today.

"Want me to talk to her? I could vouch for you."

"Nah. Thanks. I need to figure out something to show her I'm not the guy she thinks I am. That I'm the same guy she used to know, the one I thought she saw while we've been out here. That I didn't play that prank."

"Well, if you need any help, just let me know."

"I will," I say, a plan already forming in my mind. Hopefully, it'll be enough to show her that I'm serious about her, that I always have been.

I wipe my sweaty palms on my shorts as I walk out of the cabin. When I got out of the shower, Maggie wasn't waiting inside. I head down the path toward the mess hall. Taking a deep breath, I pull open the door.

Graham really came through.

The mess hall is dark, apart from the fairy lights strung from the rafters. Maggie sits at a table in the middle of the room, a candle glowing on the table in front of her and a paper in her hand.

I approach slowly. When she glances up at me, her eyes are glistening. She holds up the paper. "When did you even have time to write this?"

"When I was eighteen." Every part of me wants to duck and hide, but I meet her eyes. I can be brave for this, for her. "And I've added to it over the years. I keep it in my wallet."

She lets out a throaty laugh. "I can't believe you kept a list of all of our pranks."

I take a step closer to her. "It's not just a list of pranks."

She looks at me, confused.

I kneel in front of her, so our faces are level. "I mean, sure, that's what it looks like from the outside. But this is a list of memories. A list of all the times you were paying attention to me and I got to pay attention to you."

I take a deep breath and grab her hand. It's time to tell her how I feel. "I don't want to be your enemy. I never wanted to declare war on you. All I ever wanted was to be yours."

My confession hangs in the air between us like an anchor dropping down to the bottom of the sea. My heart won't stop hammering in my chest—which is making me dizzy—but she hasn't let go of my hand yet, so that has to mean something, right?

"You like me?" Her bright blue eyes blink up at me. "Like you really like me?"

"I never stopped," I confess. May as well get it all out on the table. I want her to believe me. I never meant for any of this to happen. If I had the courage to tell her how I felt when I was eighteen, none of this would have happened.

For a second, I think she's going to walk away from it all. She's going to tell me there's too much hurt in the past and that we both need to move on. That she won't be able to trust me.

"You really didn't leave me that note?" She sniffles.

I brush away a single tear with my thumb. "I didn't leave that note. If I had, you can bet every dollar in the world that I would have been waiting for you that night on the end of that pier."

She hiccups a laugh. "Really?"

"Really. I like you, Mags. I have for a long time. I want a future with you." I cup her face in my hands. Then I put my heart on the line. "Do you want a future with me? One full of pranking each other and then making out afterward? Fighting but always making up? Going on our own adventures and letting life take us where it takes us instead of being held back by our parents' expectations?" Okay, that last part is for me, but I want her to say yes. I need her to say yes like I need oxygen.

Slowly, so painfully slowly, a grin spreads across her face. "Yes."

I close the gap between us, pressing my lips against hers. This time, there's no anger or hate or hurt. Just the two of us, exactly how it should be. One of her hands grips my arm while the other goes to my neck, pulling me closer.

I smile against her lips, kissing her deeply. She sighs. I guess what they say is true: Kissing your best friend is pretty great, but kissing your rival—that might be even better.

"You make me a better man," I say when she releases me. Her lips are pinker than before and her cheeks have a faint blush.

"Now you're just being a flirt." She swats at my arm. "But I like it."

"That's good, love." I press a quick kiss against her lips. "Because I'm not about to stop."

"I hope you know that I'm not about to stop pranking you just because we're– whatever this is now."

"Together? I want to be together. And I think I'd be worried if you stopped pranking me."

She grins at me. "Well, that's good. I want to be together, too."

My eyes narrow in suspicion. "What else have you got planned?"

"You'll find out!"