She stops walking. “What’s up?”
“Um…” We’re right in the middle of the sidewalk at a busy intersection. We can’t have this conversation here, with people brushing past us like this. There’s a bus stop a few yards away with an empty bench. I motion for her to follow me.
“What’s going on?” she asks once we’re sitting. “We’re going to be late.”
“We have a few minutes,” I say, my heart galloping unevenly. “I, um…I wanted to say something.”
She looks at me, curious. “Okay?”
A new sprinkling of freckles has cropped up across the bridge of her nose. She must have forgotten to put on sunscreen this morning.
“I wanted to tell you…um…” I stare at those adorable specks. “I think you’re beautiful.”
Whoa. I’ve actually said it. I make my body take a deep breath, because it seems to have forgotten how to breathe on its own.
She blinks. “What?”
“I think you’re so beautiful,” I say again and laugh at how easy it is to say the words. “And smart and funny and brave and strong and…well, unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”
A vaguely familiar crease forms between her eyes. But I don’t stop to think about what it means. I need to get this all out, and we’re almost out of time already.
“I feel a…a connection to you, Carolyn. And it’s different from what I felt for Zoë. It’s more…whole. Stronger. And I know we’re at New Horizons for another few weeks and that it’s a pretty impossible situation, but I was wondering if maybe you felt it too? Because if you do, I think I would do pretty much anything to be with you.” Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m saying all this. But now that I’ve torn the fence down, I can’t stop what’s rushing through. “I honestly think I would give up on the camp and the de-gayifying and let the pieces fall where they may with my mom. I never thought I’d say that, but it’s true. Because at this point, I don’t feel like I have a choice anymore. Or it’s more like I do have a choice, but it’s a different choice than it was before.” With each word I say, I feel emptier—but the good kind of empty. Like there’s nothing holding me back anymore. “I don’t know how it would work, but maybe after camp is over, we could, I don’t know, see each other or something? I mean, I know Connecticut and South Carolina aren’t exactly close, but we could figure it out—”
Carolyn holds up a hand to cut me off. “Lexi, stop,” she says.
I gasp for breath and wait for her to say something else, but she just hangs her head in her hands, her hair forming a fortress-like wall around her. Her headband twinkles in the sunlight like a tiara.
After a few excruciatingly long moments, I have to ask. “Carolyn? Can you look at me, please?”
She raises her head wearily and turns to me, her expression…troubled.
Oh God.
I finally remember where I’ve seen that crease between her eyes before. It’s the same one that was there after she fought with her parents on Sunday. They wanted her to come home; she wanted to stay. Because the de-gayifying was—is—the most important thing in the world to her.
I’m such an idiot.
I nod, to let her know that I get it. But I have to bite my lip to keep from crying.
Slice, slice, slice. The cuts and cracks in my heart burst back open.
“Sorry,” I mumble. “I guess I misread things.” I get up and start walking down the sidewalk.
“Lexi!” Carolyn calls out. Her footsteps close in behind me.
“Don’t worry about it, Carolyn. It’s fine.” I can’t turn to face her. “Let’s just get back to the bus.”
I can’t believe this is happening again. I promised myself I wouldn’t let history repeat itself. And yet here I am again, pouring my heart out to someone who has never looked at me as more than a friend. I’m so incredibly stupid.
“It’s just…I thought you understood,” she says as we speed walk back to the Capitol.
“I did. I do. Whatever. I really don’t want to talk about it anymore,” I say. Keep looking straight ahead. Don’t look at her.
“You said you wanted to change too,” she continues anyway. “I thought we were on the same page. Were you lying?”
“Of course not,” I snap. “I just changed my mind. Maybe you can control your feelings, Carolyn, but I can’t.”
The bus looms in sight now. Mr. Martin is there on the sidewalk, along with several of the other counselors and campers. Kaylee, Matthew, and Daniel don’t seem to be there yet though.
I’m a few steps ahead of Carolyn, so when I get to the intersection on a yellow light, I make a run for it. I make it across the street just in time, but Carolyn has to wait for a green signal. It feels good to put physical space between us.
“Hello, Lexi,” Mr. Martin says, his face confused. “Where’s the rest of your group?”
“Carolyn’s right there,” I point at her, stranded on the other side of the street.
“And Kaylee, Daniel, and Matthew?”
This is really the last thing I need right now. I knew we were going to be found out, and I knew we were going to get in trouble, but I’d really rather someone else handle the explaining. All I want is to get on the bus and pull my hood over my eyes and sleep for a very long time.
“Um…” I try to figure out what to say. “We lost them. It was an accident.”
Mr. Martin’s expression turns angry. “What do you mean you lost them?”
How do I explain this without selling Matthew out? “We were getting on the Metro to go to the zoo and Carolyn and I accidentally got pushed off.”
“Who pushed you?” he asks.
“Uh…”
“It all happened so fast,” Carolyn says, joining us. “It was a really crowded train. We didn’t see who did it.”
Good. She doesn’t want to get Matthew in trouble either. But I still refuse to look at her.
Mr. Martin looks from Carolyn to me. “So you two were alone together in the city all day?”
“Don’t worry,” I say, the open wounds in my heart stinging. “Nothing happened.” And I get on the bus.
Carolyn gets on a few moments later. I fix my stare out the window, but out of the corner of my eye, I see her hover by the empty seat next to me. But then she moves on and sits somewhere behind me.
From my window seat, I watch as Kaylee, Matthew, and Daniel arrive and talk to Mr. Martin. I can’t hear them, but there’s a lot of angry gesturing and what appears to be yelling. At first, Mr. Martin’s rage is directed at Kaylee, but then she tells him something and points to Matthew. Mr. Martin turns on him.
Daniel gets on the bus while it’s all still going on.
“He’s in big trouble, isn’t he?” I ask.
Daniel looks worried. “Yeah.”
Matthew stands there on the sidewalk, looking smaller than I’ve ever seen him, staring down at the ground, nodding as Mr. Martin shouts in his face.
This is all my fault. Matthew pulled that stunt on the Metro as a favor to me. And it was all for nothing.
When Mr. Martin finally exhausts his rant, Matthew gets on the bus and sits in the empty seat beside me.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah. Mr. Martin’s just a little upset. He’ll get over it.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“Are you sure?”
“Don’t worry about me.” He flashes me a grin. “How was your day?”
I turn back to the window. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Uh-oh. What happened?”
“Nothing happened.” But my tone clearly says otherwise.
Matthew puts a hand on my arm. “Lexi?” His voice is quiet now, concerned.
My eyes well up. “Please, Matthew.” The tears quietly overflow. “Can we just not?”
There’s a moment of silence. I don’t turn away from the window to see what he’s doing. He’s probably looking for Carolyn. But then he says simply, “Okay.”