With This Heart (7 page)

I snuck glances in his direction every now and then, wondering what he was thinking about as he steered us toward our first destination.

“
There’s a campsite about three hours from here. What if we stayed there tonight?” he asked as we weaved through the rolling hills of Central Texas.

“
Sounds good.”

“
We just need to stop for food before we get there.”

I thought about my organic peanut butter and jelly sitting in my bag. “I brought some food with me.”

“
Supplies for s’mores?” he asked with a dead-serious tone.

“
No… Do we need those?”

He shot me a pitiful look. “Oh, sweet, naive, Abby. Camping without s’mores is not camping at all.”

“
What is it then?” I asked, peering over at him from the corner of my eye.

“
Unadulterated torture,” he offered deadpan.

I let out a soft laugh. “Wow. Alright, then we’ll make s’mores.”

…

Chocolate, graham crackers, and marshmallows, in quantities that could feed a small country, spilled out of my arms as we headed toward the camp ground. I’d assumed, you know, one package of each ingredient was enough, but Beck insisted we needed to stock up.
“We never know when we’ll need s’mores during the trip.”
I wondered if he planned on subsisting on them for the remainder of our travels.

“
Do you think they’ll still have campsites available?” I asked as we pulled into the state park.

“
Hopefully. It’s hot so I doubt there will be too many people.”

He had a point. The sun was setting soon, but the temperature was still hovering in the nineties. He pulled up toward the ranger’s cabin and a friendly redheaded woman poked her head out of the side window.

“
Evening, you two.”

I reached for my wallet to pay for half of the camping spot, but Beck beat me to it.

“
Here you go, I have a Texas State Park Pass for the summer,” he said, handing over the card to the woman. I thought about protesting, but I didn’t want to annoy the Park Ranger. “Are there any good camping sites left?”

She nodded emphatically. “Oh yeah, there’s hardly anyone in here today. It should pick up a bit tomorrow, though.”

She handed over a park map. “You’ll want to pick a spot near the lake. The temperature’s a little cooler near the water and it’s pretty during sunset.” She gave me a suggestive smile and I wondered if she thought we were dating or something.
We aren’t going to get it on in your park, lady
.

“
Is it near a restroom?” I asked.

“
Yes, there are a few restrooms placed sporadically throughout the park, but make sure to close the door when you go in so that wildlife doesn’t sneak up on you.”

I chewed on my lip, thinking about a bear following me into the restroom in the dead of night.
Are there bears in Texas?

I was still mulling over that fear by the time we arrived at the campsite the ranger had circled on the map for us. The site was tucked in among tall cedars and pines and the lake she’d mentioned was only a few yards away. It was calm and quiet in the late evening. We positioned our tent so that the opening faced the lake. Actually, I should say Beck positioned our tent while I handed him the rods.

“
Do you want to throw our pillows and stuff in the tent while I start to get a fire going?” he asked, stretching his arms out above his head so that a sliver of his torso peeked out beneath the bottom of his shirt. Toned with a hint of a tan. I ended up not really being able to form a coherent sentence after that, so I just nodded and started laying out our sleeping bags. The tent was a really tight fit, so I put our backpacks in one corner. Our sleeping bags ended up right next to each other.

Ten minutes later, Beck was adding bigger logs to the fire and I was arranging camping chairs a few feet back from the smoky flames.

“
It’s too hot to sit close.”

He frowned. “Yeah. I’m about to swim in that lake if it doesn’t cool off soon.”

I hadn’t even thought about swimming in the lake. It definitely looked deep enough, but the edge was rimmed with algae and leaves.

“
Do you want a P and BJ?” I asked. The moment the letters slipped out of my mouth, I realized my slip up and all but convulsed on the spot. I stuttered and cleared my throat, anything to distract him. “I…I mean a PB and J… before you start eating s’mores?” I asked, plopping my grocery bag on top of the campsite’s picnic table.

I knew I was beet-red.
I just asked Beck if he wanted a blow job. What a wonderful way to start our camping trip
. To his credit, he didn’t make a joke out of it.

“
Sure, thanks. Extra peanut butter, please,” Beck said, maneuvering behind me. I thought he’d sit down and wait for me to bring a sandwich over to him, but instead he unpacked two plastic plates and went to work preparing the bread while I smeared peanut butter and jelly on each one. He grabbed our water bottles and met me by the camping chairs.

We made a good little team.

We were munching on the sandwiches when I finally asked him something I’d been wondering about. “How did you drop everything and come on this road trip? Aren’t you in school or something?”

“
It’s summer,” he noted, as if that explained everything.

“
Yes…” I agreed, hinting that I wanted more details.

He shrugged. “I was in college up in Boston, but I’m not sure how it will work out.”

I mashed my lips together, wondering if I had the right to ask why. I decided on an easier question. “What year are you?”

“
I just finished my junior year.”

“
You only have one year left and you don’t think it’s going to work out?”

He narrowed his eyes out over the lake. “Yup.”

“
Hmm.”

“
Hmm, what?” he asked, glancing back toward me. He’d finished his sandwich and unwrapped a chocolate bar to break off a piece.

“
What college do you go to?” I knew there was an insane amount of colleges in Boston, like fifty or sixty plus.

“
MIT,” he answered, standing up and walking toward the tree line.

I gaped. “I’m sorry.
The
MIT? You’re kidding, right?” He seemed smart, but MIT smart was another level altogether.

“
Nope,” he answered with a crooked smile, retrieving a long thin branch to use as a makeshift marshmallow toaster. He didn’t seem to mind my disbelief, but I needed more details. A part of me still thought he might have been kidding.

“
What’s your major?” I asked, trying to study his posture and facial tics as if I were a criminologist.

“
Petroleum engineering.” His voice didn’t hold any of its usual conviction. His gaze was focused on his marshmallow. He turned it slowly in a circle, toasting every side until it was a nice golden brown. I had to admire his dedication. My usual method involved setting the marshmallow on fire and devouring the sugary carcinogens.

“
Huh.” I sat there dumbfounded and he finally looked up at me, saving me from my misery.

“
Do you want proof?” he asked with a half-smile.

“
Yes.” I wanted to trust him, but it just seemed so odd.

He put his weight into his right leg and pulled out an old brown leather wallet from his back pocket. With a little flick, he opened it and pulled out a white card.

When he handed it over, I held it gently in my palm as if it was a piece of the Beck puzzle. It was his MIT student ID. He was pictured there in a tiny one inch by one inch square. He looked oddly serious. None of the features that made him breathtaking were present: his eye color wasn’t visible due to the shitty picture quality, his dimples were tucked away, and his air of confidence was hidden. It was like looking at his evil twin or something.

Directly under the photo read: Beckham Dilan Prescott— Pet. Engineering Department Access.

Once I’d handed it back to him, we just sat there in silence. None of it added up. Why didn’t he want to be an engineer if he was almost done with his degree?

“
So what are you going to do for a liv—”

He cut me off. “Let’s swim, Abby Mae. S’mores can wait.”

Before I could reply, he went into the tent, zipped it up so I couldn’t see the bottom half of him, and proceeded to change into a bathing suit.

My mouth hung open as my brain tried to catch up with the change of events. I was about to put a gooey marshmallow in my mouth and now I had to put a bathing suit on? I thought about saying that I hadn’t brought a bathing suit, but it was the middle of summer in Texas. He’d call my bluff.

“
Is that water safe to swim in? What if it has a ton of bacteria or something?” I asked, standing up to clean our plates and clear the table.

I heard the tent unzip.

“
Oh, it definitely does, but we’ll be okay. You can trust me, I’m an engineer.” He smiled a quirky grin.

I was about to utter a snarky remark, like “you’re not one yet,” when I finally registered his appearance. He was standing there shirtless with a pair of navy swim trunks resting low on his narrow hips. His smooth pectorals slid into well-defined abs, and suddenly I couldn’t remember what I was meant to be doing.

Did they make petroleum engineers work out? It must have been part of the curriculum.

“
I’ll clean the rest, you go change,” he said, heading toward me. I instinctively took a step back and then did an awkward pivot so that he wouldn’t be standing right next to me. I understand that wasn’t the smoothest thing to do, and I sort of looked like a flustered robot, but it was just A LOT to take in all at once.

I had to eventually give up trying to find a bright side to the bikini situation. Size-A boobs, giant scar across my chest, pale skin…there was no bright side other than the fact that I was pretty skinny and I had long legs. I adjusted the triangles over my boobs and then pushed them together one last time, forming a hint of cleavage. The moment I let go, the light pink material fell right back into place. I looked like a prepubescent boy.

“
C’mon Abby. The sun’s going down in twenty minutes!” Beck called.

“
Okay, okay. I’m coming.” I unzipped the tent flap and stepped out. Beck wasn’t busy doing “campy” things; he was standing there, watching me climb out, just as I had feared.

I had to concentrate painfully hard on each of my movements.
Take one step out of the tent
. Good
. Now another. Turn and zip the tent. Yes, he’s looking at your ass
.

His greenish hazel eyes were brazenly taking in my bikini body, only pausing for a moment over my scar. I had to say something to break the awkward moment.

“
God, if you stare any longer I’m not getting in that water with you.”

He laughed, thought for a second, and then cracked up at that, throwing his head back and clutching his stomach. I shoved him playfully with my hand, but as I moved to walk past him, he caught my hand again and pulled me back so I couldn’t keep walking.

I looked up into the green swirls around his irises and could tell he was on the cusp of revealing something. His dark eyebrows were pressed together. His lips were parted slightly and his gaze never wavered. But it didn’t last. I could see him pushing the thought aside before he formed a new one in its place.

“
You think you’re going in before me?” he asked with a goofy smile. He dropped my hand and raced past me toward the water.

I stood there speechless, wondering what it was he had
really
wanted to say. He dove into the lake with no reservations, and then surfaced a moment later. Translucent drops of water clung to his chest and shoulders. Cedars rimmed the lake on all sides and the setting sun shone beyond that. I wished I could have taken a picture for Caroline. We weren’t that far from the town, but it felt like we were in the middle of nowhere.

“
Does it feel good?” I asked, creeping closer to the edge. There was no way I was going to jump in like he did. I wasn’t certain, but it seemed like I shouldn’t ingest any of the water. There was no telling what type of bacteria lurked in it and being immunocompromised meant snorting gross lake water was probably not the best plan.

“
Perfect,” he answered, treading lightly and waiting for me.

I waded in up to my waist, and then when I couldn’t touch anymore, I swam toward him. He was right. It was so warm outside that the water was refreshing, just shy of freezing. Yes, my teeth were chattering, but it still felt good.

“
It’s not that cold,” he laughed.

“
I’m smaller than you. You probably have like ten layers of fat warming you up,” I joked, knowing full well there was not even a single layer of fat on him.

“
Want to go to the middle and back?”

I looked beyond his shoulder. The lake was huge and I hadn’t swam in years, but I didn’t want to admit defeat.

“
Okay, but no going under. That’s cheating,” I stated.

“
Seems reasonable. Ready?”

My teeth were still chattering and I could feel my lips turning blue (one more side effect of being so pale), but I nodded. But before he could countdown, I started swimming as fast as I could. I kicked my feet in time with my arms, leaving him in the wake of my splashes.