CHAPTER

15

Carter picks me up an hour later; his friend Trey is already occupying the front seat. I climb in the back of the Subaru while Dad stores my bag, pillow, yoga mat, and a collapsible chair in the hatchback with a gallon of water (“Just in case”). Then he taps on the window. I roll it down.

“Remember: Call me when you get there. No drinking. No drugs. No sleeping in the same tent as the boys.”

“So no fun,” Trey grumbles, but quietly enough that Dad can’t hear. I don’t know him very well, but I have the sudden urge to kick the back of his seat.

“I promise,” I say. “I’ll call you soon.”

I try to ignore the lead ball sitting in my gut as Carter pulls away from the curb. I wish Jules were here sitting next to me. And since she’s not, I wish I were sitting in the front seat next to Carter. But at least from the backseat, I can gaze at his profile without being super obvious about it. And I can berate myself silently for even thinking about him that way.

It takes an hour to get to the campsite, and Carter lets Trey be the DJ, so we listen to his terrible EDM playlist the whole time. I’m ready to throw myself from the car by the time Carter pulls up to our assigned campsite.

Harry, Louise, and Adriana are already in the process of setting up the second of two huge tents. Louise squeals when she sees me get out of the car. She drops the pole she’s holding and races toward me. I wonder for a second if she’s already been drinking, but it’s only noon, so that seems unlikely.

“I’m so glad you came!” she says as she throws her arms around my neck. “Adriana and I set up a sleeping bag for you between us. I’m not gonna lie, I kick in my sleep and Adriana snores, but no one sleeps well on the ground anyway, right?”

I grit my teeth and smile. “I guess not?”

Adriana walks up behind Louise and rolls her eyes. “I do not snore,” she insists. “Louise does. She wakes herself up snoring sometimes and convinces herself it’s me.”

My smile is genuine this time. I grab my stuff from the back of the car and follow Adriana to our tent while Carter and Trey take over helping Harry with the second one.

Harry waves at me around an armload of weatherproof fabric. “Hey, Nat!” he calls. He’s even better looking when his eyes aren’t glassy and his face isn’t red from drinking.

“Hey, Harry,” I call back. “Thanks for the tent setup!”

He grimaces. “I only take responsibility for one side. If half of it collapses when a leaf falls on it, that’s Louise’s side.”

Louise gives him the finger as she ducks into the tent.

My stomach feels a little lighter now that I’m here. The anxiety of doing something new is hard enough without Jules. She was always my buffer in these situations. Not that she was ever any less anxious than I was, but at least we had each other to talk to.

After I call Dad and assure him that I’m alive and well, I step into the tent and set my things down on the sleeping bag in the middle. Louise is already stretched out on hers. Adriana’s sleeping bag has a little pile of multicolored rocks sitting in the middle of it.

“What are these?” I ask as I reach for one. Then I pull my hand back. It’s probably not polite to just start touching her things.

But Adriana sits down and scoops up a few, handing me a flat purple rock that fits perfectly in my palm.

“These are my crystals,” she says. “That one is purple lepidolite. It helps with anxiety. And it can help with sleep, which is why I brought it.”

I don’t really understand how a rock can help with anxiety, but I like the way it feels in my hand. It’s cold and heavy, and the perfect shape to squeeze in my palm.

Louise rolls her eyes. “You don’t have to pretend to believe in Adriana’s weird crystal energy. I just smile and nod, and occasionally I wake up with a crystal under my pillow.”

“I brought this one for you, actually,” Adriana says, ignoring Louise. She hands me a small, rough black stone. “It’s black obsidian, a volcanic rock that’s supposed to absorb grief.”

I look up at her with surprise. “I can keep this?”

She nods, looking a little relieved that I didn’t laugh.

“Thank you,” I say. I hand the purple stone back to her as I rub the black one between two fingers.

“I keep one in my pocket pretty much all the time,” she says quietly. “Most of these were my grandma’s. No one else in the family believes in crystals, but she did. She did yoga every day and meditated and read tarot. She loved to tell me what each crystal does, and she’d buy me one every year for my birthday. So I figure even if they don’t actually do anything, what harm can it do to have them around?”

A sudden slap on the outside of the tent makes us all jump.

“Come on, ladies!” Harry calls. “We’re going for a hike!”

Louise jumps up and dashes out, already pointing a finger. “See? The tent is still standing!”

“For now!” Harry says with a laugh.

Adriana shakes her head. “Don’t be scared. The tent is fine. Louise may not know what she’s doing, but I do.”

I want to hug her for so many reasons, but instead I just tuck the obsidian in my pocket and stand up, then follow her out of the tent.

Hiking with five other athletes makes me glad to have had a few days of training with Carter this week. We’re only climbing small inclines, but the group is moving faster than me. And they’re all wearing backpacks. I’m just carrying a water bottle.

I pick up the pace to catch the rest of the group just as we reach the crest of the hill. Harry climbs to the top of a boulder and poses for a selfie. Trey immediately tries to push him off. The rest of us gaze out at the view below.

Spring is still new, so the leaves are the yellow-green of new growth. A lake sparkles under the early afternoon sun at the base of two mountains. It feels like a Bob Ross painting.

“Anyone hungry?” Harry asks as he jumps down from the boulder. “We came prepared.”

Adriana removes her backpack and pulls out a small cooler. Inside are cold cuts, cheese, packets of mayo and mustard, and apple slices. Harry opens his backpack and reveals a bag of sandwich rolls. Louise is packing paper plates, napkins, and cutlery. Even Trey came prepared with a backpack full of bags of chips.

Carter and I look at each other guiltily. I’d blame him for not telling me about this, but it’s clear he didn’t know we were supposed to be bringing lunch either.

“Does anyone want a sip of my water?” I offer with a grimace.

They all hold up their own bottles.

“Don’t worry,” Adriana says as she lays out the food on a blanket. “This was a surprise for you guys. We’ve been feeling kind of guilty.”

I glance back at Carter, but he looks as baffled as I am.

“Why would you feel guilty?” he asks.

Adriana pats the blanket next to her. I sit, and everyone else follows until we’re in a circle, passing plates and sandwich rolls.

“We didn’t know you very well when Jules passed,” Adriana says to me. “But none of us reached out, not even after the funeral. And Carter, I know you’ve hung out with Harry and Trey a little since January, but not enough. If there’s anything I learned from my grandma’s passing, it’s that distraction is the only comfort. So we’re here to distract you. Currently, we’re doing that with food.”

Harry holds up his sandwich. “To Jules,” he says.

The rest of us lift our sandwiches in the air too. “To Jules,” we echo. Or at least, the four of them do. Carter and I are both a little too choked up to do more than mouth the words.

The walk back to camp is both easier and harder than the climb up was. Climbing downhill is hard on the knees but takes a lot less energy. Even so, we’re all pretty quiet on the walk back.

After Harry’s toast, we didn’t talk about Jules. True to their word, the group did their best to distract me and Carter from our grief. But as we reach the flat trail to our campsite, Carter hangs back to walk next to me.

“Jules would have hated this,” he says.

I laugh. “Jules never would have come on this trip at all.”

We’re quiet for a few moments. It’s strange to be with Carter and his friends instead of in Jules’s bedroom or my kitchen. My world was so small with her. It was cozy and comforting but also sometimes a little stifling. The newness of this experience, of being with new people, makes my chest feel fizzy with both anxiety and excitement.

“Do you ever feel guilty when you realize you haven’t thought about her for a few hours?” Carter asks.

I nod. “At first, I couldn’t go more than a few minutes without thinking about her and crying. I spent a lot of time on the floor. It was like my body needed to find the lowest point possible to reflect where my mind was at.”

Carter smiles a little. “Same. And then eventually I’d realize that I had cat fur stuck to my cheek or I’d find a Cheerio in my hair, and it would distract me long enough to get me off the floor. Maybe even into the shower if the Cheerio was old enough.”

I laugh, and Carter does too. And for a minute, I don’t even feel guilty. But like a heavy blanket, the guilt settles back over my shoulders and wraps around my middle. I’m breathless for a few seconds. When I look back at Carter, his smile is gone too.

I instinctively reach for his hand, intertwining our fingers. We walk silently side by side until we’re back at the campsite. But he drops my hand before anyone sees us.

As I duck into my tent, my palm feels cold and empty. A little bit like my heart.

It turns out Carter and I lied to Dad. The main point of the camping trip is, in fact, to drink in the woods. Because that’s what camping is all about. Or at least that’s what Harry claims when he pulls the bottle of Goldschläger out of his backpack after we finish our dinner of hot dogs and baked beans. There are actual gold flakes swirling around in the bottle. I can’t help but wonder where the hell Harry gets the money to buy things like this. But I’m a scholarship student among rich kids. I may never understand.

He brought paper Dixie cups to use as shot glasses and he pours six, but Adriana declines hers.

“Someone should be sober in case anyone cuts off a finger or something and we have to drive to the hospital,” she deadpans.

Harry doesn’t give her grief; he just pours her shot into his and lifts the tiny cup with Donald Duck on the side. Mine has Minnie Mouse I notice as I hold it up next to Harry’s. Carter’s has Chip from Beauty and the Beast.

“Cheers,” Harry says as Louise and Trey join us.

I’ve never tried Goldschläger before, but I try not to overthink it as I toss it into my mouth. The burning sensation is almost as bad as the cinnamon taste. My chest and throat are on fire. My stomach revolts at the idea of containing the shot, but I breathe in through my nose and manage not to vomit.

Harry puts his arm around my shoulders. “You okay there?”

I nod, but I don’t trust myself to talk.

“Here!” Louise says, frantically shoving a marshmallow at my face. “Eat this, it’ll help.”

I want the marshmallow to absorb some of the liquor still in my mouth and get rid of the burning sensation, but my stomach churns at the thought of swallowing it. I nibble an edge to see how it goes, and when I don’t throw up, I take a bigger bite. I catch Adriana’s eye across the campfire. She’s shaking her head.

“You’re all ridiculous,” she says.

Harry, Carter, and Trey go back for seconds, but Louise and I sit next to Adriana. We each skewer a marshmallow on a stick and hold it over the flames. Louise’s immediately catches fire. Adriana holds hers at a distance so that it gets perfectly browned. I go halfway, trying to brown mine before getting impatient and letting it catch fire for a few seconds; then I blow it out and shove it in my mouth. It’s hot enough to almost burn my tongue, but the sickly sweet sugar finally gets rid of the liquor taste in my mouth.

“I brought chocolate and graham crackers for s’mores,” Adriana says after she swallows her perfectly toasted marshmallow. “You want one?”

“I think you meant to say ‘You want s’more?’ ” Harry calls across the fire.

“No, I did not!” Adriana shouts back with more patience than I think he deserves.

He and Trey laugh as they do another shot. Carter sits this one out, opting to join us for dessert instead.

After a s’more, my throat doesn’t burn anymore and my stomach isn’t churning, but my chest is warm and my head feels slightly cloudy, and it’s a pleasant, happy feeling. I sidle up next to Harry and hold out my tiny paper cup.

He raises his eyebrows, or tries, but his head tips backward instead. I take the bottle and pour myself another shot.

“Carter!” I call out to him.

He hands his stick and marshmallow to Trey and joins me on the other side of the fire. I pour a shot into his Chip cup.

“We’re supposed to be getting distracted,” I tell him.

He holds his cup up, his eyes locked on mine. “To distraction,” he says. And we down our shots.

It doesn’t burn any less the second time around. But when I don’t vomit (again—yay, me!), I pour us another.

As I move to pour yet another, Carter lowers his cup. “I’m pretty sure this cup will disintegrate if it has to hold another shot of this. Let’s have some water.”

Wise words. But it’s too late. I’m drunk.

The fire swims in front of my eyes when I stand an hour later. And I sway a little, until I feel a hand on the small of my back and turn to see Carter behind me, keeping me steady. The way he has for the last few months.

“Where you going?” he asks. He sounds a little more sober than I am, but there’s still a slur to his words.

“I have to pee,” I say. My cheeks heat with embarrassment, but luckily he can’t see in the darkness.

I bend over to grab the lantern Dad gave me, but I have trouble making it back up. My head is foggy and my vision dims as I flail my arms. But Carter grabs me around the middle and pulls me to standing until my back is flush with his chest, his arms wrapped around my stomach like we’re posing for a prom picture.

“You okay there?” he asks in a low voice. His lips are so close to my ear, his breath sends goose bumps down my neck.

I nod, but I don’t move out of his embrace. I don’t even care how it looks.

Carter runs one hand down my arm until he reaches the lantern, which he takes. When he steps away, the cold air hits my back like ice water. I feel a little more sober as I turn to look at him.

“I’ll come with you so you don’t get lost in the woods or trip over a tree root. I promised your dad I’d bring you back with no broken bones.” He holds the lantern up and leads the way toward the tree line.

I don’t love the idea of Carter listening to me pee in the woods, but I also don’t want to go alone in the dark while I’m drunk, so I follow behind him, sticking close to the small circle of light the lantern gives off.

Carter stops at the entrance to the woods and hands me the lantern. I make him turn around before I walk the remaining twenty feet to the designated tree. Harry bungeed a roll of biodegradable toilet paper to the trunk and stuck a shovel in the dirt next to the hole he dug, so it’s clear that I’m in the right place. But it’s also really quiet. Way too quiet. I can hear Carter shuffling his feet while he waits.

“Could you, like, sing a song or something?” I call to him. “I don’t think I can do this with you listening.”

He laughs. “Any requests?”

“Something loud,” I say as I set the lantern a few feet away and pull down my jeans, focused on balancing.

Carter starts singing “Brown Eyed Girl” by Van Morrison. He’s slightly off-key, but it helps take some of the pressure off.

Jules had blue eyes, but mine are brown. I wonder if he knows that.

When I’m done, I use the hand sanitizer I slipped into my pocket. And by the time I reach Carter, he’s started really getting into the song, singing at the top of his lungs. Back at the campsite, I can hear Adriana, Louise, Harry, and Trey singing along with him.

Carter takes my hand, and instead of walking, he spins me out and back while he sings “Sha la la la la la la la la la ti da.” I’m laughing as he dances his way back to the campfire, still holding my hand. But before we reach the clearing of our campsite, while we’re still in the dark outside the circle of firelight, I pull him to a stop. He quirks an eyebrow in a question.

But I don’t respond. Instead, I take a step closer. And as I look up at him, placing one hand on his chest, he breathes shakily, unevenly, and closes the distance.

His lips are warm and soft against mine and when he opens his mouth, he tastes like cinnamon and chocolate. His fingers slide up my neck to cup the back of my head, and I’m pressing my mouth against his hungrily when he suddenly breaks free, stepping backward to put space between us. He puts one hand to his mouth, holding the other up as if to ward me off. The evil temptress.

“I’m sorry,” he says. His words are muffled by his hand. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

My head is spinning, from the kiss, from the alcohol, from the song. “Why?” I say. My throat is tight, and it comes out a whisper.

But he doesn’t answer. He walks away, leaving me standing alone in the halo of light from the lantern.

When I stumble back into the campsite, I keep my head down and walk straight to the tent. Harry and Trey are still taking shots, but Carter isn’t with them. Louise is passed out in her chair, her sleeping bag draped over her. So only Adriana sees my tear-streaked face.

She gives me a minute to get myself together before following me.

I sit cross-legged on my sleeping bag and hug my arms around me, trying to stop shivering. It’s cold away from the campfire, and I can feel every rock and stick beneath me. Sleeping tonight is going to be impossible for so many reasons.

“Are you okay?” Adriana asks as she sits next to me.

She hands me the purple lepidolite. I squeeze it in my palm until my fingers hurt.

“Not really,” I say.

“Did something happen?” she asks gently. “Or is this about Jules?”

My throat is too clogged with tears to answer. I drop my head into my hands, holding back tears until I can take a deep-enough breath to talk.

“It’s Carter,” I say finally. “I thought we were . . .” I feel so stupid saying it out loud. And callous and deceitful and wrong. So fucking wrong. “I thought he liked me, but after he kissed me, he looked like he realized he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life.”

Adriana’s silence doesn’t help. I can feel her judgment without looking at her.

“I know. I’m a horrible person. You can say it.”

But she doesn’t. She just reaches out and puts her hand on my knee. “Grief causes some strange responses,” she says. “And you’ve both been drinking. I don’t think you should assume anything just based on this one . . . ​interaction.”

I scoff, but I can’t help looking at her thoughtful expression without a little bit of hope.

“I don’t know how it happened,” I tell her. “He’s always been Jules’s boyfriend, and I tried really hard not to think about him in any other way. But now I don’t know how to stop.”

“I don’t think you’re doing anything wrong,” Adriana clarifies. “And I know I didn’t know her, but I don’t think Jules would think so either.”

I look up at her with watery eyes. “Really?”

She tucks her thick, dark brown hair behind her ears. “People have to move on. It’s the only thing you can do. And if you find comfort in each other, if you really like being with him, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. Jules loved you both for a reason.”

The dental floss around my lungs releases just a fraction. “That’s true,” I concede. “She always said he and I were more alike than they were.”

But Carter pulled away from me. He didn’t mean to kiss me. It was just a moment of drunken sadness. He was probably just missing Jules.

“I have to call my dad,” I say. It’s true, but I also just want a little time to myself. To cry into my pillow.

Adriana stands. “Yeah, I should probably try to get Louise to bed too. Maybe Harry can carry her in here.” She pauses at the door. “You’re okay?”

I nod. Put on my brave Nagler face. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks.”

When she’s gone, I zip up the tent and call Dad. But he doesn’t answer.

That’s not like him. He would definitely want to be sure that I wasn’t drunk or high or eaten by bears. But I didn’t really know how I was going to talk to him without slurring my words, so I’m mostly relieved. I text him instead and let him know I’ll call him in the morning.

It’s gotten pretty chilly, cold enough that I can see my breath, so I change into my long underwear. Then I pull on sweatpants and a sweatshirt, two pairs of socks, and my hat. I stow a pair of socks under my pillow in case I need them as mittens in the night. And then I curl up on my side and zip my sleeping bag up to my neck, ignoring the rock that’s jabbing my hip.

When I close my eyes, I see Carter’s face as he leaned in to kiss me. And the horror in his eyes when he realized what he’d done. I pull the socks over my hands and use them to dry the tears that leak from my eyes.

I guess Dad was right: it’s always good to have a clean pair of socks.