Breakfast is quieter than normal with Aurora missing and I hate it.
She’s practically a Honey Acres expert, after coming here as a camper for so many years, and she spends so much time during meals when we’re all sitting together answering questions about what it will be like when the kids are here.
Emilia sits down with her food and gives a vague answer about Aurora feeling sick and not wanting breakfast, not revealing that she’s definitely hungover.
I wait until everyone is deep in conversation about the pros and cons of semester abroad programs before slipping away and setting off toward cabin twenty-two with a bottle of orange juice and some granola bars.
Aurora is already on the porch when I get there and the way her face drops when she sees me stings. I hover at the bottom of the steps. “Hey. I brought you breakfast like I promised.”
She accepts reluctantly, looking at my offering like I’m a cat who just dropped a dead mouse at her feet. “Thanks.”
“I wanted to see how you’re feeling, Emilia said you’re feeling sic—”
“Russ, what are you doing?” she asks, cutting me off.
“I said I’d bring you breakfast last night. You probably don’t remember, you were pretty drunk.”
“No, I mean here. Now.” She shakes her head, dragging her hand through her hair. “You’re either super nice to me or you avoid me. And now you’re here, being sweet and I don’t know if you’ll be like this all day and I’m tired of wondering what I’ve done to make you not like me.”
“I do like you. I’m sorry, Aurora. I do like you.”
She sits on the top step, putting her breakfast on the ground beside her. I can sense her frustration growing. “You’re nice all the time, but it’s with everyone but me, Russ. Everyone. I’m so tired of being treated like that when I’m at home—”
The guilt fucking sucks. The last thing I want to do is make things for her harder, especially when she’s totally right. I have made an effort with everyone but her. The first thing I should have done after my call with JJ yesterday was apologize to her. Instead, I sort of hoped it’d just blow over and we could both ignore it. I should have known it wouldn’t work like that. Spending all your time with a group of people in an isolated place makes everything feel bigger and more intense, even after only a short time, and I know that’s only going to increase as time goes on.
I know I need to be honest with her, so she realizes I’m the problem not her, but the words just won’t come because I’m a coward.
“—and I came here to escape those feelings and work on myself. I don’t know what I’m doing, but whatever it is I’m doing a totally shitty job so far, so I don’t need you making it worse by blowing hot and cold for the rest of the summer. If you only want to try to be my friend some of the time, I’d prefer you to just, I don’t know, just don’t try. Ignore me all the time, it’ll be easier to cope with.”
Taking a deep breath, I force myself to start talking. “Rory, I messed up. I’m sorry. When you walked out and didn’t leave your number or say bye, I thought that was your way of telling me you didn’t want to hear from me again,” I say calmly, trying to suppress the feelings of embarrassment. “Then we were dropped into this situation together and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I get that I shouldn’t have assumed and I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
Her jaw is hanging open as she looks up at me from the step. “I know I’m hungover, but did I just hallucinate and hear you say the reason you’ve been like this since we got here is because I left? When you wanted me to leave?”
“I didn’t want you to leave. What are you talking about?”
She stands quickly, the steps making us about the same height, giving me the perfect view of how confused her face is right now. “You were in the bathroom for so long. You were waiting for me to go. I heard you talking to someone so I left.”
“I was talking to myself, Rory. I was hyping myself up to ask you out, which is something I hoped to never have to admit out loud to you, but I’d rather embarrass myself than have you think I’m the type of guy that would wait in a bathroom for you to leave.”
“Oh my God.”
“I never do the one-night stand thing and I thought we had fun. I wanted to see you again, but you’re so out of my league and—”
“Oh my God.” She drops back to the step and this time I crouch down in front of her as she hides her face in her hands. “Miscommunication. Russ, we did the miscommunication thing. You made me a miscommunicator!”