I give her a patient look. “Told you, I’m a changed woman.”
“If that paper says you’re releasing the weight of other people’s expectations, I’m not going to believe you.”
I stick my tongue out and clear my throat again. Then I read what I wrote, louder than I need to, because there’s no telling who might be listening.
“Sawyer was a young, dumb kid. So dumb. The dumbest. Super, super dumb. And I was an overly romantic one. I can forgive him for being twenty, and I can forgive myself for it too. Coming back here is a gift. I will let myself have it and enjoy every minute of it. I will live in the present in a way I haven’t since that summer. I release the past and the future. None of it matters as much as right now. Not even how extremely, super dumb Sawyer was.” I hope with all my heart he’s lurking nearby.
Natalie says nothing as I drop the paper into the fire. The flames turn it to ashes slowly dancing toward the lake.
As I watch the words burn away, I’m more moved than I expect to be. I’d written it to lull Natalie into a false sense of security, but in finding the right words for this show I’m putting on, I’ve given these words to myself too. And it does feel good to release them into the fire.
But she’s still going to pay.
I hear her sniffle, and I fight a smile, but I keep my face thoughtful as I take my seat next to her.
“You really think you’re ready to let it all go?” she asks, her voice quiet.
“It’s been nine years. Shouldn’t I be? Wouldn’t you worry if I weren’t?”
“Yes,” she admits. “But yes, I’ve been hoping this week would give you closure.”
Is that a clue about why she’s hiding Sawyer? I dart a glance at the woods, half expecting Sawyer to jump out and yell, “Surprise!” But the forest stays quiet.
Natalie follows my glance. “Something wrong?”
“Thought I heard an owl. Now tell me about what you have planned for your fancy guests while I labor thanklessly in your kitchen this week.”
She snorts but tells me about the mini-camp they’re throwing for these donors. “All of them have already donated to secure their reservation this weekend, but Ben and I are hoping we can conjure enough of the Camp Oak Crest magic to entice them into donating even more.”
“You won’t need the old magic,” I tell her. “You’re going to make new magic, and it will be even more special.”
She rests her head on my shoulder. “Thank you again for being part of it. I haven’t been able to find the right words to say how much it means to us.”
“Anything for you.”Even—no,especially—my arsenal of greatest pranks. But I keep my same relaxed expression as our conversation drifts to other counselors from years past.
Finally, she yawns, and I stand and make a shooing motion. “You need your sleep, Director Natalie. I know Juniper gets you up early.”
“She’s better—or maybe worse—than a rooster,” she says on another yawn. “See you at breakfast?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
She walks me to my bike before we part ways, but while she goes back to their cabin, I head for a different trail, one that will not take me home.
I stop at the foot of it, debating. This place had held some of my best memories until it had all gone wrong. It’s felt okay—better than I expected—to confront some of the more painful ones. But am I ready to relive the best ones with Sawyer?
“You need to do this,” I say aloud.
This is where it had started all those years ago, and if I’m going to put it behind me, I have to start at the beginning now too.
With one last deep breath, I park the bike and head up to Moon Rock.
Chapter 8
Nine Years Ago
“Howmanykidshavewe busted over the years for trying to sneak up here?” I asked Sawyer, as he towed me up the trail behind him.
“At least twenty this summer.” He didn’t let go of my hand.
