25. Nora

TWENTY-FIVE

"You all needto get your asses in the car!"

I love my best friend with all of my heart, but when she says things like that in her loud voice, I instantly debate whether or not I should be friends with her.

We're at the boys" house, and I can't tell how early it is. All I know is that I should definitely be sleeping right now, not packing the last of our stuff into the car as we get ready for a hike and camping trip.

I walk through the doors into the entryway and grip onto Cat's shoulders as she attempts to usher Connor and Wes out of the house. "Cat, sweetie, I love you, but we just got back from New York. Can we have a break for at least two to five business days?"

Cat mentioned this camping trip almost six months ago, and I was fully convinced that she was joking. That was until she presented us with full itineraries three days ago and told us to buckle up. We've been camping together as kids, but never on our own. Trying to make plans with all of us always ends in disaster, so we stick to spontaneous outings whenever we're free. This trip feels like it's going to be hell already.

I'm stressed enough with the opening of the show and Ryan's constant nagging, so this is supposed to be something fun, but it doesn't feel like it at all. The pressure for the show is suffocating, and instead of enjoying the moment, I"m stuck in this twisted dance of stress and disappointment. This is supposed to be our escape, a break from the chaos, but it"s only adding to the chaos in my head.

"You've been back for a week. So, no, not really," Cat retorts, zipping up her duffle bag on the floor.

She really means it's been a week of me not allowing myself to be alone with Wes for longer than five minutes, so I've been hanging out with her and Connor. I don't know how to act around him. It's not like anything really happened. But I wanted it to. God, I wanted it to, so badly.

Figuring out that I'm attracted to Wes should not be a big deal. I think there's always been a part of me that's been too scared to admit it, but being alone with him has really fucked me up, so the more distance I put between us, the better.

He appears behind me, casually slinging his arm over my shoulder as if everything between us is perfectly fine. "Yeah, Sunshine. We've had more than enough time to recover," he says, pulling me closer to his side.

I immediately shrug him off, frustrated by how nonchalant he seems about everything. I haven't been able to stop thinking about that night in the bar, and it apparently hasn't crossed his mind.

I haven't told the girls what happened because what is there even to say? He played his part better than I ever could, and I got too caught up in it. I might have also indirectly asked him to kiss me, but that's beside the point. I'm still detangling my feelings and it seems like he's already moved on past it.

"Alright," Cat says, clapping her hands together. "Final head count. Who is coming?"

"Just us and Sam, sweetheart," Connor says, packing the rest of his lunch in the kitchen. We're only going for one night, but Connor thinks we're going to get lost or stranded. He's been in real survivor mode all morning, and it's actually pretty funny.

"Yeah, Elle backed out this morning," I add. "She's not feeling like socializing because, apparently, you were all on her ass when Wes and I were gone."

Connor rolls his eyes. "She was the one who forced us to go out nearly every night. She kept going on about how she was going to reclaim her sexuality, or whatever the fuck that means."

"Don't you think we should stay here with her, then?" Cat asks, nibbling on her bottom lip.

"Archer said he'll check on her tonight since he's not going either," Wes says.

Cat and I both sigh at the same time. As independent and strong as Elle is, I know she'll appreciate someone checking on her whilst we go. Even if that person is Archer. From what I've gathered, they have an… odd relationship. They pretty much grew up together, with his mom being Elle's dance teacher since she was three. Yet they don't say more than five words to each other when they're in the same room. Fucking weird if you ask me.

"Okay, that makes me feel better," Cat murmurs. Connor finally finishes packing up the food and kisses her on the cheek before he passes us with Wes in tow behind him. "Ready to go, Nor?"

"This is going to be awful, isn't it?" I ask, linking my arms with hers.

"It doesn't have to be," she says, swaying us to the side. "I have a good feeling about this little trip."

The entire carride is pure torture. Squished in the backseat between Wes and Sam is like being trapped in a teenage boy's locker room. The overwhelming male presence and their eye-watering stench nearly send me over the edge. They shout over each other at volumes totally unnecessary for people less than two meters apart. I can't even chat with Cat because she"s too busy making googly eyes at my brother in the front seat.

By the time we park in a grassy field, I"m certain we"ve bitten off more than we can chew. We all stumble out of the car, disheveled and cranky, clueless about our next move.

"So, what's the plan, Catherine?" I ask, trying to muster a smile for my best friend, hoping she's got something up her sleeve to salvage this chaos.

She sighs, pulling out her phone. "Well, the map says that we continue on North, and we'll be able to find the camp spot there."

Sam shakes his head. "Nah, we've got to go East. Some guys from my high school went the other weekend, and they said the same thing, but they got lost."

"Well, Cat's saying we need to go North, so we're going North," Connor says, coming to her defense immediately. Cat looks at me like she wants to roll her eyes at their bro-off, but she just snorts.

"Why don't we go East, and you guys go North," Wes suggests, "Whoever gets their first wins."

"Sounds good to me," Connor says, straightening. There's something unspoken between his and Wes's interaction, and I don't think I want to know what the hell is going on with them. Connor looks down at me. "Whose team are you on?"

It's between spending God knows how long with my best friend and my brother, who are probably going to be making out the entire time, or with two boys who can entertain the shit out of me with their stupid conversations.

"Not your team. Sorry, bro," I say, shrugging. Connor shakes his head with disbelief as if I've completely betrayed him. I hold out my hand to him. "May the best team win."

He clasps his hand in mine. "May the best team win."

Without another word, Cat and Connor pick up their bags and head on their way. I honestly have little faith in our team, but what's the worst that could happen?

If we weren't about to spend the night in the middle of nowhere, I'd think that it's a pretty decent spot for a date or something equally as romantic. The hills and turns are sculpted perfectly, scattered with moss and the fresh smell of the outdoors. There's the gentle sound of water running in nearby streams and birds chirping as the sun is slowly setting behind the mountains and rocks. It's honestly perfect.

We're quiet for a few minutes as we follow Sam's directions, and he slings his arm around both of our shoulders.

"So, Lovebirds," he starts, swinging us to the side. "How are things in paradise?"

I've avoided eye contact or any sort of conversation with Wes for so long that my heart stutters a little when I look over at him to find him already looking at me. I clear my throat. "Everything"s pretty good."

"Pretty good?" Sam repeats. I just nod. "I'm great at relationship advice. You can hit me with anything."

"There's nothing to tell," Wes says. "Everything is great."

"Sure doesn't sound that way. Cat and Connor can't deal with being apart for two minutes and I don't think I've seen you two speak more than two words to each other the whole drive here," Sam says. Jesus. Where the hell did he learn how to read people like that? As if reading my mind, he adds, "My parents are doctors, remember? I can figure things out without you having to say exactly what's wrong."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," I laugh, shrugging him off. I wrap my arms around my stomach when I have nothing to do with my hands.

"Sure I don't. Just kiss and make up so this trip isn't awkward as fuck. I'm already hating third-wheeling," Sam says.

"You didn't have to come, you know," Wes says.

"Then how would you have any fun?" Sam throws us both a wink before he scans our surroundings. There's not much to look at now that we're on a path through the woodland area. "I'm going to go for a piss. Stay on the path, and I'll meet up with you."

The moment Wes and I are left alone, I start to feel jittery. He edges closer slowly, and I fix my gaze ahead, trying to act unaffected even though his nearness sends my heart racing. He nudges his shoulder against mine. I nudge him back silently. He bumps me again, and this time, a snort escapes me as I bump him back, the tension breaking just a little with that unexpected sound.

"Hey, what's going on with you?" he asks, his voice quiet.

"Nothing's going on."

I make the brave decision to look over at him, but he's staring at his shoes, his hands shoved into his pockets. "You've been avoiding me since we came back from New York."

I play dumb. "I haven't."

"You have. And you don't have to, you know," he says. He stops then, turning to me. I get lost in his eyes for a second. Everything else falls away when he looks at me and it's like it's just us in this world. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it either."

We both know what it is, but my brain won't keep up with me. "Y- You haven't?"

"It's all I've thought about since that night, Nor, but you don't see me freaking out over it. You've got your own stuff going on, and I'm still working on what I'm going to do with football. We don't need to complicate this, okay?"

His words soothe me a little. He"s right. Whatever is going on between us should be the last thing on my mind right now. After Ryan, I"ve become wired to label and organize my feelings, always needing to define where things stand instead of just letting them unfold. I"m always desperate to know what I am to him, what I mean to him. But maybe that approach isn"t necessary anymore. Maybe I just need to let go, live in the moment, and enjoy what we have without worrying about defining it.

"Okay," I breathe.

Wes smiles softly as he holds his hand out to me. It's so damn inviting that I slip my hand right into his. He squeezes it gently before tugging me closer to him. We walk for a few more minutes, listening to the soft rock playlist that Wes has been playing from his speaker until Sam catches up with us.

"You two make up yet?" Sam calls. I hold up our linked hands as an answer. "Good. Now, Wessy, I've got a serious question for you?"

"Oh, great," Wes mumbles. "If you're going to give me shit for–"

"Why don't you want to be on the team anymore?" Sam asks, cutting Wes off.

Wes sighs. I squeeze his hand reassuringly. "I just don't want to play anymore. I've been looking at other courses at different colleges, so after my senior year, I'll probably change over."

"You're going to be in college for years, dude," Sam says, shaking his head.

"I've got a million options. I'll be fine," Wes explains. I can't imagine Wes staying at college for that long, but I also know he needs to do what makes him happy. If it means staying on to find more options, so be it. No matter how long it takes, it's all about gaining experience and finding his passion. If anyone is going to work hard for something, it's got to be Wes.

"How"s the search going?" I ask.

He just shrugs. "Not everyone has got back to me, but hopefully, I'll have an interview or something soon. I don't know what I want, so it's harder to commit to anything."

We all hum in agreement and Sam gives some very unhinged advice as to what to do with getting an interview. For someone who bases most of their life choices on his parent's guidance, his advice is slightly misplaced. Wes and I communicate just with our eyes without saying anything, and I can tell we're not going to be able to stop laughing about this later.

By the time the sun has fully set, we're all tired and hungry again, and we're getting low on snacks. I don't know why I agreed to this in the first place because if I could, I'd turn right back around now. We've been working for so long that my legs are sore, my forehead is sweaty, and the shorts I'm wearing are riding up my thighs.

"How long until we get there?" I ask Sam. He's been powering ahead of Wes and I and I've lost count of the amount of times I've asked him how close we are to the campsite.

"We're…" Sam begins, grunting as he steps over a large rock. "Here!"

I find the strength to catch up with him, and when I get to him, I roll my eyes. "Fuck. They beat us to it."

In the large patch of grass, RV's and campers have set up their fort for the night, and it's easy to spot our large two tents in one corner. Mostly because Connor is shouting at the top of his lungs that he's won when he spots the three of us. I knew we'd lose, but it still hurts to actually have lost.

We reluctantly drag our asses over to the tent, and I'm mildly impressed with their setup. Fairy lights are strung between the two tents. There's a small fire crackling whilst five cushions surround it, and our hot dogs are on the disposable barbecue that we bought with us. I don't know how they're going to turn out, but I'll eat just about anything at this point.

"You guys took your time," Cat muses when I sit down next to her.

"You can blame Sam for that," I say, reaching over to grab a can of beer.

"Hey, I was just following the directions my friend gave me. It seemed a lot shorter in my head," he retorts, gesturing to me to throw him a beer, and I do, chucking one at Wes, too.

"It just matters that we're all here now," Connor says, turning over the sausages.

"God, you're such a dad," I murmur, rolling my eyes before taking a swig of my drink. The liquid cools me down for a second, and I feel it fizzle in my stomach. He just throws me a sarcastic smile and continues tending to the food.

Connor's words still ring in my head even when the moment has passed. There are times like these where I feel extremely settled. I'm constantly running on fumes, rushing around, trying to get shit done, but there are moments like these where I can let my brain switch off for a while and just live in the moment. Who knows where we're all going to end up in a few years from now? The future is so uncertain that it makes me want to embrace moments like this that much more. Or that could just be the alcohol talking.

"Let's play ever have I never," Sam slurs, turning down the music on the speaker.

"Do you mean never have I ever, bud?" Wes laughs, patting him on the shoulder. He might sound fine, but he's also been spewing nonsense for the past ten minutes. Drunk Wes just means a talkative Wes.

"Whatever," Sam replies. He points his cup in Connor's direction. "You go first, Cap."

"Okay," Connor laughs. I snuggle closer to Cat, resting my head on her shoulder as my eyes droop a little. Since we haven't been doing anything active, the alcohol is just making me exhausted and a little sentimental. "Never have I broken up with someone over text?"

I look around the group and only Wes and Sam drink. "You animals," I joke.

"To be fair, it was in seventh grade, so I didn't know any better," Wes argues.

"Oh. I did that last weekend," Sam says, his eyes wide, and we all burst out laughing.

Wes is up next to ask a question. "Never have I ever had sex in a public place."

I shake my head at him because I know exactly who that question was aimed at. I take a sip of my drink and so does Sam. When I look over at Connor, he and Cat are both drinking. "Oh my god," I mutter.

Cat shrugs. "It wasn't my idea."

"Sure it wasn't, sweetheart," Connor says. I shudder at the thought. As cute as they are together, I don't think I'm ever going to get used to them being a couple. Especially as the kind of couple that has sex in public.

I turn to Wes, who is the only one who hasn't drunk. "I don't believe you," I challenge.

He just shrugs innocently. "I'm as pure as they come. Who do you think I am?"

I scoff. "I still don't believe you."

He holds my gaze for a beat, and the tension crackles between us, thick and palpable. My palms grow clammy under the intensity of his stare. I silently will myself to look away, but I"m rooted to the spot, unable to tear my eyes from his. It"s as if an invisible force is drawing us closer, something unspoken hanging in the air, a question begging to be asked but feared to be answered.

I shake my head when I see it's my turn. "Never have I ever been arrested?" At that one, no one drinks. "Seriously? No one has been arrested?"

"I almost did. One time," Sam says. "I was overage drinking, but the officer let me go after I bashed my blue, pretty eyes."

Sam has brown eyes.

And he definitely meant underage drinking.

"Of course you did," Wes laughs. "It's your turn, Cat."

"Ummm," Cat hums, biting on her bottom lip. She thinks for a second before her eyes light up. "Never have I ever kissed my best friend."

Obviously, Wes and I are the only ones who take a drink. He winks at me over his cup, and I hate the fact that it makes my stomach flip. He's getting too good at flirting with me. He's getting too good at making this feel real and feel like something I actually want. He's getting too good at all of it. All the simple boyfriend things that he's done are making me crave the real parts of a relationship so badly.

"How cute are you two?" Cat coos, looking between the two of us.

"Cute-ish," I tease. Wes just snorts, and when we all burst out laughing, Sam carries on his hysterical screams for a little too long. We all turn to him, alarmed. He's like an untrained puppy, completely unaware of how ridiculous he's being. "Do we need to cut you off, Samuel?"

"Don't cut my arms off!" Sam shrieks. He stands to his feet, wobbling as he almost trips over the hotdog buns that are behind him. "I'm going to bed now. Don't cut my arms off in my sleep, please, Nora."

"I won't make any promises," I joke. His eyes are still wide, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing. "Sweet dreams!"

It takes him a whole five minutes to walk into the tent we're sharing. It's right behind us, but his perception is embarrassingly off. Within seconds, he passed out, snoring behind us.

"We should probably clean up. I'm ready for bed, too," Connor says, yawning as he stands. We all agree and silently pack up the rest of our stuff. Despite the long trek and tipsy evening we've had, it's been a good day.

After Cat and Connor say goodnight and head to their tent, Wes and I pack up the rest of our stuff and get ready into our pajamas. The air is a lot cooler now, so I slip on my sleep shorts and a comfortable hoodie before collapsing onto the air mattress in the large tent. Wes wiggles in beside me a few minutes later onto his mattress.

I turn to him on my side, resting my head on my hand to find he's already looking at me. There's only the dim lighting of the fairy lights in the tent that illuminate his features. After avoiding him for the last week, looking at him with fresh eyes makes me regret the time I spent away from him. Sam's snoring in the background is the only noise in the tent, and the comfortable silence stretches between us as we just… stare at each other.

I can't take the quiet any longer, so I say, "I don't give you enough credit, but you're actually not too bad at this whole fake boyfriend thing."

Wes chuckles softly. "You're just realising that?"

"Yeah, I mean, I was always too focused on my own relationship, and the only time I'd see you with other women was when you were sleeping with them."

He sighs. "You know I'm not this huge manwhore that everyone makes me out to be, right? Everyone jokes about it, which is fine, but I think I've secretly always wanted a relationship. That's probably why I helped Connor so much with Cat."

His admission catches me a little off guard. I would never have pegged him for a relationship-type of guy. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he agrees, shifting a little. "I had a list of these ideas and things that I knew I was saving for someone, but I never thought I'd actually do it."

"And you're doing them now?"

"Yeah, with you."

"With me," I repeat. My chest aches at the thought. "I'm sorry. I'm probably not what you imagined your first girlfriend to be like, and you're wasting it all on me."

"Nothing's ever a waste when it comes to you. You're exactly who I need." His words rattle in my chest, and he shuffles closer to me. I keep my eyes strained on his as he reaches out, his fingers brushing against the side of my face as he tucks a few strands of my hair behind my ear. I try to catch my breath that I didn't know I lost, but his next words throw me right back to square one. "You are so perfect, Nora, and I wish you heard that enough."

I blink. "Do you mean that, or are you just–"

"I mean it," he says roughly. "I always mean it."

The way he speaks to me feels like there's a small fire in my chest that he's constantly adding wood to. It's like he knows exactly what to say to make me feel like I'm glowing. That's just the thing about Wes. He doesn't realize how much he means to me. He doesn't realize that he's got all the qualities that I didn't know I needed.

I inch my face closer to his, our bodies becoming so close that I'm sure our heartbeats could be disguised as one. He trails his thumb across my cheek, and I nuzzle my face into his palm, desperate for his warmth. My heart has never wanted something as badly as Wes Mackenzie in this moment, and the warm fuzzy feeling in my chest to stay there forever.

I tilt my mouth to his, and I can tell there's a battle in his eyes. "Wes," I whisper.

"Hm?"

"Just– Just kiss me. Please." I'm practically begging, but if he could stop being such a fucking gentleman for two minutes, he'd give me what I've been aching for since we left that bar in New York. My heart is thrashing against his chest, debating just going for it or waiting to see what he wants.

He drops his forehead to mine, exhaling as if he's been holding his breath. "Nora, I can't."

"Why? Because we've been drinking? I'm completely sober now, I promise," I say into the space between us.

"It's not because of that, and you know it's not."

"Then what is it, Wes? Because you keep looking at me like you want this, keep saying things to me that confuse the fuck out of me, and then you shut me down. If it's about the rules?—"

"If we do this, there's not enough reasons to convince ourselves to stop," is his response. I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out other than the rush of air that leaves my lungs. He peels himself off me and turns away. "Goodnight, Sunshine."

Once again, I'm left staring into the night, wondering what would have happened if I had just let myself fall and said fuck it to the consequences.