Gone Wild (20 page)

I had a flash of what it would be like working in his office. Would he remind me regularly
of how
he
had been the one to get the job for me?

I was realizing a million times this evening how being away from someone for a week, someone you lived with day in and day out, made you stand back and truly see all these things about them and the way they treated you.

"Let's go back to the cabin, Michael. Follow me." I took a difficult trail home even though an easier one would have been more efficient. I reveled in the grace I had developed in my hiking over a relatively short amount of time, while Michael struggled in his old sneakers on the rocks behind me.

*

When we reached the cabin, Michael was out of breath. Without the air rushing by me as I walked, I felt the sweat gather on my brow. I turned toward Michael and wiped the back of my hand across my forehead. I grabbed my beat-up water bottle from the pocket on my backpack and took a long draw before offering the bottle to him.

He took it, eying me as he breathed heavily, and taking a drink.

"You've sort of changed," he said, sounding surprised.

"How so?"

"You're confident." He handed me back the water bottle and looked up to the door of the cabin and then back at me. "It's very sexy."

My surprise had to be showing on my face at his words. Embarrassed, I turned toward the door and led the way into the cabin.

He followed behind me slowly and I listened to him shut the door behind us and shuffle around the room. I didn't know what he was doing, but I didn't turn around to look. I walked into my bedroom, got some fresh clothes, and told him I was going to take a shower.

After both of us were washed and relaxing on the couch, Michael asked me what I was thinking about for dinner.

I snorted at the question and then had a long tired laugh.

He tilted his head and stared. "What's so funny?"

"Let me see," I replied. "What can
I
make
you
for dinner?" I stood up and fished around on the counter at my food supplies. I still had plenty of food left because I'd been spending so much time with Adam. Not feeling like cooking anything, I fished two granola bars out and walked outside. "Let's eat out here," I called as I passed Michael.

"Why?" He followed me out and slumped in
to one of the Adirondack chairs around the fire pit.

I handed him one of the granola bars and sat in the chair opposite him. I laid my back straight aga
inst the wood, wondering if they'd been made from the wood of the trees around us by Adam. I pictured him sawing the wood, his muscles flexing as they did when he held me.

"A
re you listening?" Michael's voice broke into my daydream.

"Sure." I hadn't been listening,
but I wasn't about to admit it.

"What is that smell?"

I took a deep inhale and smiled. Garlic, lemon, dill, charcoal. It smelled like Adam had caught some fish and was now grilling it. "Someone is cooking at another cabin."

"Oh," he said forlornly, taking a bite of his granola bar and chewing loudly, breathing in the delicious scent in the air.

The dusk had faded into night by now and I decided this was a good a time as any to light the fire pit. A lighter sat under the raised pit and someone, Adam probably—I smiled at that thought—had built a perfect tee pee out of branches for a fire. I lit the brush at the center and blew on the flames. A fire ignited.

I'd been completely immersed in my fire starting, but when I raised my eyes to Michael, I saw him watching me with an intense look in his eyes that it felt like I hadn't seen in years.
Out of habit, my attraction to him reminded me it existed. I swallowed and sat back in my chair to finish my measly granola dinner.

"Do y
ou miss real life?" he asked.

I thought about h
is question. I hadn't thought about real life for a little while now. With my phone gone and all of this distance between me and home, I'd let it sort of fade into my background. Out of sight, out of mind. "No, I want to move forward, not back."

"Cara and Beau have broken up,
you know. They're both seeing other people."

My eyebrows shot up
. Cara was my roommate and Beau, the boyfriend she had cheated on with Michael. They had also been the usual doubles on our double dates, our best couple friends—until I caught Cara and Michael having sex in our dorm, of course.

"Wow," I commented, letting my surprise show. "You know before everything went down, I thought the
y'd make it."

Michael smiled sadly. "Yeah, we really fucked up a lot of lives with our
—"

I waited to see what he'd call it, but he ne
ver finished that sentence. He let it drop off without any real explanation.
Choice
, I wanted to call it for him.

"Did you hear what happened in Jamaica?" he said.

"No, what?"

He smiled, excit
ed to tell the story. "First night there, Molly sleeps with some guy Christina had her eye on." He shook his head. "After an entire day of rum buckets, Christina and her got in a huge fight. The other girls took sides. Before you knew it, everyone was accusing everyone else of having slept with their boyfriends. Rooms were changed. Most of the girls aren't even speaking to each other."

Wow, the very girls I'd been jealous of, the very girls I'd assumed were smarter than I was because they chose Jamaica while I chose exile hadn't been any brainier than I was. "That's terrible," I said honestly. I was glad I had chosen differently, happy I had avoided that whole girls gone wild scene. I was thoroughly embarrassed about being embroiled in a girl fight with Cara and a love triangle with Michael. I'd felt as if I'd made stupid mistakes while everyone else had made smart decisions, but now it seemed like we were all guilty of making dumb decisions, every single one of us. I had made mine first, but that hadn't stopped everyone else from being just as stupid and petty and naively trusting of the wrong people.
And they weren’t that forever, I knew now. Bad decisions didn’t have to define who we were.

Michael snickered to himself. "Don't feel bad for them," he said.

I stared at him as he took a drink from the can I'd brought. I waited for him to finish the statement, but I guess that was it. It occurred to me that I was always waiting for more with Michael.

A raindrop fell on my nose and I heard a few more sizzle as they hit the fire. I looked up into the sky and felt a fat raindrop land on my cheek. "Let's go in," I said, standing and gathering our granola bar wrappers for the trash.

I could hear him following me. I felt his eyes studying me. It felt almost intrusive. When I turned around to meet his gaze, I was surprised to see he was looking at the fire pit.

"It's okay to leave it?" he asked, nodding at the dwindling flames.

"Yeah, the rain will handle it."

He turned toward me on the steps of the cabin and then walked up to meet me, putting his hand over mine on the railing. "It's sad the way our old crew is falling apart, right?"

I nodded. With his hand over mine, I couldn't speak. It was warm and familiar and at the same time, irksome. I couldn't picture the good memories anymore without also having to think about the bad. I felt the need to tell him so.

"I'd much rather you'd have broken up with me than cheated
on me," I said, not holding back for his heart’s sake, sharing my feelings as they were revealed to me. "It's like now I can't even keep our good memories. Whenever I try to picture old times, I see static and then flashes of you and her."

He nodded and moved his gaze to the groun
d. I didn't take my eyes off his face. As familiar as he was, as much as I'd stared at that face in my daydreams and classes and college life, I could sense it had changed. It wasn't the calm, cool, collected face of
my
Michael. He was already transforming into a new version of himself just like I was. My Michael may still be in there somewhere, but his days were numbered.

He squeezed my hand and I pulled it out from under his. The rain was getting stronger and my hair was starting to feel heavy with saturation.

He shut the door behind us and I went to the counter. His arms slipped around my waist, and I began to tremble as he whispered in my ear.

"I wasn't lying all those times when I said I'd never break up with you."

I smiled sarcastically, knowing he couldn't see my face. "In retrospect, I see now that you never promised you wouldn't cheat."

He sighed. "Will you ever forgive me?"

"I don't know."

He turned me around to face him, reaching for my chin so he could angle
my face up to look at his.

"I wish you would. What can I do? It's why I'm here, Ina. I want you back.
What do I have to do?"

"Go back in time and change it." Right now, it was the only thing I could see that would change how I felt about him. Cheating was a deal breaker I couldn't get over.

He moved closer to me, so close I could smell his familiar scent. My heart started beating faster as he leaned in close to my face. As his face approached, I pictured his lips brushing mine, I could imagine it happening, but at the last minute I turned my head, so that his kiss landed on my cheek. He looked surprised by my rebuff.

I was breathing hard and I couldn't meet his eyes.

Hoping the moment would pass, I walked over to the couch and sat down with a smile. He grinned back, although there was no happiness in his eyes. He came over to sit by me.

"If I could go back a year,
I'd do it in a second." He sighed again. "How about you? What would you do with one more year of undergrad?"

I drew my eyebrows together in thought. What would I do? Would I have written that paper? If I knew then wh
at I know now, would I have preemptively broken up with Michael? Even now I don't think I would have. It was like I needed all that to get here, to find myself and my confidence. When I turned to tell Michael that, he surprised me by slamming down on my mouth with such force that we were a few seconds into the kiss before I came to my senses.

"Michael, no!" I shot up and knocked him away, maybe more forcefully than I needed to. I licked my lips. I could taste him there, and I had to tell myself that wasn't what I wanted. The problem was that my body did want him
... a lot. That attraction to him was still there and every time he pressed harder, I had to admit I felt flattered.

He stood up and
put his hands on my waist, pushing up my shirt so that his hands were on bare skin. He squeezed possessively and stared at my body. His eyes scanned my skin without apology.

There was hardly any
distance between us, but it felt significant. A lot of friction buzzed in that small space. I decided to just take that space away.

I slipped my arms around his neck and enjoyed the way his bottom lip dropped in surprise. I resisted the urge to bite it.

"Michael, in a way, I will never stop loving you, but I also don't think I'd ever be able to forgive you—not completely at least, not so much that I could trust you with my heart."

He closed his eyes and his chin fell to his chest. He sighed. "I'm so sorry, Ina."

"I know." I kissed his forehead.

His hands released their grip on my waist, but didn't move away, instead he slipped them all the way around me and we hugged for a long time without saying anything.

Eventually, he whispered in my ear, hoarsely, because he'd been crying. "Can we lie down together at least—not sleep together, but just
sleep together
as friends?"

"I don't think so, Michael."

He released me and walked over to the bedroom looking through the doorway into the room. The light from the window made a soft glow illuminate his body and face. "Too bad. I was looking forward to trying out that bed." He raised his eyebrows at me.

"It feels as good as it looks," I admitted. I nodded my reluctant approval and rolled my eyes. I got to the doorway just in time to see him slipping into the covers. I walked slowly to the bed, stopping at the window to close the curtains. I still couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

"No one's out there in the rain watching." He chuckled as I adjusted the curtains a little more.

I walked over to the bed. Michael reached for me and caught my arm, but I stood up straight, pulling away, determined to keep my feet on the ground.

"Enjoy the bed, Michael. I’m taking the couch."

He opened this mouth to argue, but I turned and walked away before he had the chance.

19

In the mo
rning, I awoke on the couch to a constant light knocking, like a woodpecker in the distance. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but the sky was threatening blue. I skulked around the cabin, peeking into my bedroom. Michael slept deeply. He breathed slow and even, a feather at the end of the pillow sticking up and vibrating in the breeze whenever he exhaled or inhaled.