Carolyn and I move apart so fast it’s like a grenade was set off between us.
I scramble around like a fumbling idiot, my heart leaping every which way around my ribcage. At least I still had my bra on.
I pull my shirt on as quickly as possible and avoid all eye contact. The longer I put off facing Mr. Martin, the longer I can extend the calm before the hurricane.
But when I hear Carolyn whisper, “Daniel,” I know the time for denial has passed.
I look at her and follow her gaze across the grass to the edge of the trees. Behind Mr. Martin stands Brianna, her expression wiped clean of any of the friendliness it may have formerly held…and Daniel. He looks distraught. He’s gripping Carolyn’s and my copy of The Great Gatsby tight against his chest.
The map. That’s how they found us.
“Daniel, how could you?” Carolyn says.
He just shakes his head slightly. His eyes are apologetic, but he doesn’t speak and he doesn’t move away from the counselors. He’s chosen his side.
“Daniel did exactly what he was supposed to do,” Mr. Martin answers for him. “Well, not exactly—he went to Brianna first instead of coming directly to me.” He shoots Daniel a disappointed look. “But he spoke with us last night and told us what was going on between the two of you. He was worried for your souls. And well he should be. It’s not just the reprehensible act itself, but the lying, the sneaking around, the act you put on for the camp. You are sinners.”
I stare him down, calmer than I thought I would be when this moment arrived. “Look who’s talking,” I say, each word clear and biting.
Mr. Martin blinks. “Excuse me?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. And so do you, Brianna.”
Brianna opens her mouth but seems to change her mind about speaking. Instead, she turns slowly away and walks back the way they came.
Mr. Martin’s confident façade falters for a fragment of a second. I don’t back down—I hold his stare, letting him know that I know everything. And then, still staring him down, I reach my hand out to my side. After a moment, I feel Carolyn’s soft hand slide into it and hold on tight.
We stand like that for a long time, us against them: the boy who’s beginning to realize he’s been kept in the dark about a lot more than just me and Carolyn, and the man who’s beginning to realize that his days of getting away with all this are coming to an end.
But there’s nothing Mr. Martin can do now except continue with the script. He says, “You are aware of the penalty for this type of transgression—”
“We know,” I cut him off. “Come on, Carolyn. Let’s go home.”
***
Carolyn goes into Mr. Martin’s office first. I wait outside with Deb, who’s watching over me like a stone gargoyle. Brianna’s nowhere to be seen. She’s probably off praying, trying to convince herself that everything is going to be fine.
But no amount of praying is going to save New Horizons now.
I listen through the door as Mr. Martin explains to Carolyn’s parents over the phone what happened and that they must come pick her up immediately. The conversation is short. “They’ll be here in six hours,” he tells Carolyn, hanging up the phone. He sounds disappointed that her parents weren’t more upset.
The door opens and Carolyn and I lock eyes as we switch places. “Good luck,” she whispers as the door closes and our connection is broken.
Thanks, I think. I’m going to need it.
Mr. Martin dials my mom’s number. As he hits the last digit, I say, “Can I tell her?”
He looks at me, receiver to his ear. It’s probably already ringing.
“You can supervise,” I say. “I just want to be able to tell her myself. It’s all the same in the end, right?”
Mr. Martin thinks for a moment and, probably deciding that he’d better get on my good side while he still can just in case I actually really do know what I said I know, hands the phone over to me.
“Hello?” my mother’s distant, small voice comes through the earpiece.
I bring the phone to my ear and take a deep breath.
“Hello?” she says again.
“Mom?”
“Lexi! What a wonderful surprise!” She sounds just as cheerful and dynamic as she did during our last phone conversation. I don’t want to ruin it. Oh God, what if I tell her this and she down spirals? What if things get bad again?
But I have no choice. Mr. Martin is staring at me, waiting to get to the punch line, and Carolyn is somewhere in this cabin, depending on me to do the right thing.
“Mom, I have something to tell you.”
“Oh? Is everything all right?”
“Yes and no. I, um…” Mr. Martin is watching me closely. “I need you to come pick me up.”
“Yes, next Sunday, right?” Mom says. “I have it marked on the calendar.”
“No. Today. Now.”
There’s silence down the line.
“Mom?” I say, worry building up in my chest. “Are you there?”
“Yes, Lexi,” she says quietly after a moment. “I’m here. What happened? What did you do?”
I immediately feel defensive. Why does she assume it was something I did? Why does everything automatically have to be my fault?
I mean, okay, it is my fault. But she doesn’t know that yet.
“I tried, Mom,” I say. “I really, really tried. I just…It didn’t work. I’m so sorry.”
I hear some sort of clanging through the phone, like Mom’s angrily putting away pots and pans or something.
“Mom? Say something, please.”
The clanging cuts off. “I’m leaving in five minutes. See you in a few hours.” The line goes dead.
I hand the phone back to Mr. Martin, my mother’s voice repeating in my ears. “She’s on her way,” I say.