Chapter 37 | Zoey

Chapter 37

Zoey

T he days pass quickly. Between working and entertaining, there’s time for little else. Knowing my friend, this was Haley’s intention all along. She dutifully sits through my workday, sometimes exploring Ardena or spending a few alone hours at the townhouse but mostly pestering Max with questions. Max, for his part, acts completely normal. He grins at us, sunburned and exhausted, on Monday morning, and it’s like the party never happened. Except it did, and I feel the subtle distance between us that wasn’t there before. Maybe I’m imagining it. Maybe I put it there. I don’t know.

Now as the week comes to a close and Haley’s due to leave for home in an hour, the three of us sit on the bleachers, watching the campers enjoy the midsummer BBQ. It’s a camp tradition celebrating the end of the first session. Many of the older campers will be back on Monday for the second session, but for the younger ones, this is the last day of camp. And even though we’re an intensive sports camp, the last day still means fun. There’s an inflatable obstacle course on the football field, a DJ, a few food trucks with specialty desserts, and way too much barbecue.

“Now,” Max says, spearing a piece of watermelon off my plate, “will you please explain to me why you two smell like a smokehouse?”

My cheeks burn. The last thing I want to do is tell Max I spent last night standing over a small fire, burning photographs, letters, and emails that I had meticulously printed and scrapbooked the first year of my relationship. After that, Andrew and I were so inseparable that the need for romantic missives decreased, but from the sheer number of photos I have— had —from our time together, you would never know we had extracurricular activities or friends. We really were repulsive.

Watching my memories burn last night, I was stoic. That girl with the wide smile and the gleam in her eye didn’t feel like me anymore. At the very end of the burning, standing shoulder to shoulder with one of my best friends, the tears came but not for Andrew or Claire or any of it. They came for that girl who loved so completely, so innocently. Will I ever love like that again?

“We had a ceremonial burning,” Haley says, her eyes staying on the field, her tone completely nonchalant, as if this is a normal occurrence. Though for us, I suppose it is.

Max chokes on his soda, not expecting that answer. “A what?”

I feel both of them watching me. Because clearly the question is directed at me. It’s my story to tell, and Haley’s not going to let me lie about it. “We were disposing of some things I still had... of Andrew’s.”

His name sticks in my throat. I avoid saying it as a general rule, but saying it to Max feels wrong. I’m not sure I’ve ever initiated a conversation about Andrew with him, which is silly. Andrew was a huge part of my life, and as much as I hate it, he’ll always be part of my story—that memory I dredge up when people post those silly surveys on social media or whenever first loves come up, or losing your virginity, or any number of firsts I shared with Andrew. And I don’t need to feel bad about that or about whatever I need to do to move on. Because last night wasn’t about Andrew. It was about me.

“It’s a Delta Sig tradition.” I meet Max’s gaze head-on. I can’t expect him to want to talk about an almost kiss if I can’t even talk about my ex-boyfriend. “It’s a way to cleanse yourself of bad mojo that assholes bring. Haley added that last part.”

He holds a hand to his heart, as if I’ve shot him. “I’m wounded on behalf of my gender.”

“Asshole is not a gendered term,” Haley says, sparing him a glance. “I call ’em like I see ’em.”

“And we’ve seen ’em,” I add with a knowing nod.

Max rolls his eyes. “You two are weird.”

“We know,” Haley says at the same time that I say, “It’s part of our charm.”

This only makes Max’s grin wider. We have this effect on people a lot. It’s why we bonded quickly as roommates and why when I pledged in the spring, there wasn’t even another consideration for my Big. It’s also why there’s no way in hell I’m transferring out of Bellewood. If I have to see Andrew every day for the next three years, watch him date and fall in love and grow and change, I’m going to do it with grace. Bellewood is home. And hopefully, I’ll date and fall in love and grow and change too.

I sneak a look at Max. He’s leaning back against the bleachers, relaxed and happy. When he laughs, I feel it on the riser below. He glances down at me, his eyes meeting mine. It’s a quick look, but it’s like he’s seeing me for the first time all week. He’s all dimples and laugh lines, and I feel that look down to my toes.

“All right, Little.” Next to me Haley stands and stretches before reaching for her bag. The week’s gone too fast, and it feels like today didn’t even happen. “Time for me to hit the road.”

I’m not ready for her to leave. For the silence that will descend as soon as she walks off these bleachers. I’m not ready to be alone again.

“Max,” Haley says turning to him, “it’s been a pleasure.”

He holds out his arms, and without hesitation, she steps into his hug. “Pleasure was all mine.”

I stand then and pull her into a hug of my own. In a few weeks, we’ll be back together. I can do this. “Thank you, Hales. Seriously, this was above and beyond.”

“Nonsense.” She squeezes me tighter. “This is what you do for family.”

“Love you, Big.”

Haley steps away and clasps my hand. “Love you back.”

W hen the final minivan pulls away from the pickup line at the end of the day, I literally run to my car. The rest of the day lingered, and whatever passed between Max and me in those moments before Haley left dissipated into awkward silence. But my speedy exit doesn’t matter. Before I can even find my keys, Max is at my side.

“Zee, wait.”

My body jerks to life, and oh my god, I hate what that nickname does to me and the way his voice softens and wraps itself around the single syllable. I will my heart to beat normally before facing him. He’s a few paces behind, his expression open but stressed.

“I know we need to talk,” he says, closing the space between us. He doesn’t touch me, but his hands clench and unclench at his sides. “But Haley was always here, and I didn’t know what to say. That night... I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

Sorry? Of all the things I wanted him to say. Sorry?

“I don’t want you to be sorry,” I practically yell.

“Then what do you want?”

That’s the question. What do I want? To go back in time and erase that stupid moment so we can go back to our friendship? To have him lock the door to keep Joe from interrupting? To have him stop calling me Zee and making my insides melt?

What do I want? My stomach flips, and my heart pounds. I want to know. Unequivocally.

“I want you to kiss me.” My feet stay rooted to the ground. It’s my request, but it has to be his choice.

His expression changes from uncertainty to surprise to joy and, finally, determination. How can one person feel so much between one moment and the next? And about me? He cups my face, his fingers soft against my skin. Butterflies sweep across my stomach, and my mind goes blank as he closes the space between us. The world narrows. His lips meet mine, part mine, devour mine. And my world explodes.

This summer, Andrew, Claire, the tears, and the mistakes—they all fade away. Max’s hand is still gentle on my cheek, but his other grasps at my waist and pulls me in close. He smiles against my lips as my arms wrap around his neck and my fingers tug at his hair. I deepen the kiss. Every part of me is on fire. I’m lost in the scent and taste of him, sweaty and salty and purely Max. I didn’t believe, not really, that someone would ever want me again and that I could want them back. But I was wrong. So very wrong. My love life didn’t end when I walked into that dorm room all those months ago. It was set free.