said to me. He pushed back a low-hanging tree branch to clear the path for me, and his other hand rested on my lower back.
“No,” I said. “I want to stay. Screw him. I can’t believe he’s even acting like that. I feel like we’re back in junior high school.”
“Well, it’s like you said, it’s the drugs. He’s definitely not himself.”
We made our way up the rocky path leading back to our tent, hand in hand. But before we got there, my left flip-flop broke.
“Shit.” I bent over to fool with the strip between my toes, trying to make it hold long enough so I could walk the rest of the way through the woods.
Elias lifted me up, swung me around on his back, carried me the rest of the way. My arms were hooked around his neck and his were hooked around my thighs. We hung out at the tent for a long time, but neither of us could sleep. We had uncomfortable sex inside the tent, and then we talked for a while until we decided to explore the bluffs. I “borrowed” a passed-out girl’s flip-flops from another tent nearby, and Elias and I headed deeper into the woods.
Bray
“What if we get lost?” I asked, gripping Elias’s hand. “We didn’t exactly bring any survival gear.”
“We’re not going far,” he said. “I saw a ridge when we were swimming. People were hanging out on top of it.” He pointed. “It’s just up ahead. Jared and a few of the other guys went this way to get to it.”
I had seen it, too, and wondered how everybody got over there.
After several more minutes of pushing our way between trees and bushes and stepping over dead branches and stray rocks, we emerged from the woods into a clearing at the top of the ridge that overlooked the river many feet below. A campfire had burned here recently; I could smell the leftover heat and smoke still rising from the charcoaled sticks on the small pile. A few empty beer bottles were strewn about the ground.
We walked to the edge of the ridge and looked out at the river; the moonlight was reflected off the water like hundreds of little diamonds. Some of our friends were still in the river below, floating on small plastic rafts, but it was fairly quiet everywhere, as the party had begun to die down for the night.
I sat down near the edge of the ridge and drew my knees toward my chest, wrapping my arms around my legs. The breeze blew through my hair, and I closed my eyes and raised my chin to the sky, taking in the tranquility of the night.
Elias sat down next to me, propping his wrists on his bent knees. “I almost went to South Carolina after you,” he said.
I glanced over. He was looking out at the water. “Why didn’t you?” I asked.
“Mitchell told me you were engaged.”
I started to turn to him, shocked by what I’d heard, but I realized it didn’t surprise me much. “Well, he lied,” I said in a calm voice instead. After a pause, I added, “I wish you would’ve come after me anyway.”
Elias looked right at me, the emotion in his eyes pulling me in. The breeze brushed through the messy dark hair that framed his beautiful, stubbly face. “I know,” he said and looked away. “And you should’ve called me instead of Mitchell.” There was no blame or resentment in his voice.
“I know,” I said.
“I guess there are a lot of things we could’ve and should’ve done differently,” he said. “But you came back regardless. And we’re together now, despite all of that. And that has to count for something.”
Silence fell between us for a moment, giving us both time to reflect.
“Did you love her?” I asked about Aline, and I knew there was no need to clarify who I was talking about. I knew enough about her from Mitchell.
“Yeah,” he said and I felt an uncomfortable twinge in my stomach. “But she wasn’t you. I can love a lot of people. Aline. My parents. Hell, even Mitch’s dumb ass. But I could never love anyone the way I love you.”
The twinge softened and became something warm.
“Did you love him?” Elias asked.
“No,” I answered honestly. “I, uh…” I sighed and looked out ahead of me again. “I think I used him,” I admitted to Elias and to myself. And while I felt like a horrible person for it, suddenly I felt the need to spill the truth because I had been holding this inside for so long.
I went on:
“Even before I left, before we got together on your twenty-second birthday, every guy I was with, I think deep down was a substitute for you. It’s why none of them lasted, why I couldn’t date anyone for more than two months. I told you before, Elias, I was always scared of being with you. Of ruining what we had.”
“I know,” he said, but it was all that he said. I got the sense he wanted me to continue.
And so I did. I took another deep breath and began to tap my fingers against my knees out of nervousness.
“Lissa introduced me to Garrett,” I said. “He was a friend of her brother’s. I don’t know what the hell was wrong with me, or how I managed to stay with him for a year, but I did. I didn’t love him, but I guess I needed him. He wasn’t you, but he was there.”
And I needed sex, I wanted to say, but couldn’t. I didn’t want to sleep around with a bunch of different guys, so I found one and stuck with him. I used him for sex. I used him to pretend that he was you. I used him. I’m awful.
I couldn’t say these things out loud. I wanted to. I wanted to so bad that every word was on my tongue, pushing against the back of my teeth. I needed to get the truth out—about Garrett, about all of the other guys after him—to feel the impending relief. But I was still scared. I knew that I could trust Elias more than anyone in this world, that Elias would stand behind me no matter my flaws. But it was a double-edged knife, because I was terrified of losing that one person. And I had seen people lose others over much less.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he said, surprising me.
My gut twisted in knots.
“You know you can always tell me anything,” he went on, but I couldn’t look at him. “There is absolutely nothing you could ever say or do that would make me leave you.”
He knew I was hiding things from him, and he was desperate to know my secrets. And I was desperate to tell him. But he didn’t want to push me. He wanted me to tell him when I was ready, but he was letting me know that it would be OK.
And I believed him. I looked over, into his eyes, and he smiled warmly back at me.
I was going to tell him right then. Suddenly, it felt right. That small window a person is given in which to say or do something they’ve always been afraid to had opened up for me in that moment. I felt elated and alive and longed to not feel suffocated anymore by the weight I carried on my chest.
