Page 163 of That One Time

“Then he doesn’t,” I said. “He doesn’t owe this place bravery.”

Something moved behind Mason. Darius. Still nearby. “He shouldn’t have to come back before he’s ready,” Dee added.

I said nothing and Mason glanced between us. Then, because apparently he enjoyed danger, he asked, “So are you two just going to keep doing this?”

“Doing what?” I asked.

“This.” Mason gestured a hand from Dee’s chest to mine.

I smirked. “Very descriptive.”

“He won’t talk to me,” Darius muttered.

I ignored his sulking and turned to Mason. “You need help arranging the photo?”

Mason sighed and threw his hands up in frustration. “Jesus.”

Then he walked away. Which unfortunately left Darius standing there. I turned towards the kids.

“Alvin,” Dee said and I pretended not to hear him. “Can you just talk to me? Please?”

“I am talking.”

“No, you’re talking around me.”

I laughed once. “No. I’m talking around camp. You just keep wandering into conversations nobody invited you into… Hmm, sound familiar?”

His jaw clenched. “I asked how Trevor was.”

“And Mason asked louder.” I shrugged.

“That’s bullshit.”

“Undoubtedly,” I agreed, because at the very least I was self-aware.

“You looked right at him and answered my question,” Dee continued.

“Did I?”

“Yes.”

“Huh.” I finally looked at him and frowned. Darius seemed tired. There were shadows beneath his eyes. Probably hadn’t been sleeping. Not my problem.

He lowered his voice, his eyes flicking around like they always did when he was afraid someone might hear him say something he considered even remotely soft. “I was worried.”

“About Trevor?”

“Yes,” he said before adding, “…And you.”

That moth fluttered to life in my chest, and I immediately killed it. “You shouldn’t be.”

“You left in a fucking helicopter with a kid barely breathing… I didn’t know what was happening.”

“You knew enough,” I reminded him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I stared in Dee’s direction. There were too many answers. You knew I loved you. You knew what you were doing when you touched me. You knew what it would do to me when you told me the window was closed. You knew. You knew. You knew. And you did it anyway…