Chapter 26: Chapter 26

AMY

The morning sun spills golden light across the forest, making the leaves shimmer. I breathe in the ocean air, and it doesn’t feel as crisp in my lungs as it did when I hiked this trail with Tristan a few weeks ago.

My stomach is in knots. The camera crew is behind us, and Tristan leads the way with two girls at his side. From the bits of conversation I’ve picked up along the way, he’s been nauseatingly charming since the hike began.

So this is what he meant yesterday. Until I’m ready to talk to him, he’ll seek the company of others. Gone is the dejected, humble version of Tristan who told me he can’t watch me date other guys. He’s the king again, and until we have a real conversation, I’ll be forced to witness him flirt with other women.

The problem is I’m not ready to talk. The thought of revealing my achingly tender feelings to this invulnerable charmer makes my stomach churn.

“Watch your step here,” Serena says as we approach some large roots snaking across the dirt trail.

“Thanks,” I mutter, my gaze instinctively drawn to Tristan as he laughs.

Serena sets her hand on my shoulder, halting my steps. She turns to the camera crew and tells them we need to stop for a breather. They nod and continue ahead of us.

Ah, she wants to have a private chat with me.

“Tristan is just flirting with Natalie and Mia to get your attention,” she whispers when the crew is out of earshot.

My tennis shoes crunch the carpet of fallen leaves. “He’s punishing me for refusing to talk to him.”

Serena smiles sadly. “Do you have your emotions…under control yet?”

I shake my head. “It just gets progressively worse every day. The longer I put off our talk, the more I feel…” My lips quiver. “I feel like I’m going to break down.”

“Amy, I’ve been thinking a lot about the Harper thing. From what I know about Tristan, it just doesn’t make sense that he’d be so devastated over losing you if you were really just a casual fling.”

When I turn her way, her unseeing eyes are fixed on her bright-purple tennis shoes. “Where are you going with this?” I ask.

“Maybe he didn’t sleep with Harper. Maybe she manipulated the time stamp on the picture.”

I shake my head. “That’s too diabolical.”

“How is it any different from what you thought Tristan did? You thought he signed you up for the game just to embarrass you.”

I raise my chin. “I don’t think that anymore. In fact, it was vain of me to assume he’d go to that much trouble. Maybe he’s just a shallow fuckboy who sees me as a novelty. The nerdy girl who never gave him the time of day. I was a conquest, and that explains why he’s so upset that I rejected him. He wants to win.”

But it didn’t seem that way yesterday.

~“You’ll leave me behind after the game is over.”~

It was such a vulnerable admission coming from someone who wants to prove he’s the king.

Why is he so inconsistent? He told me I’m precious to him, and then immediately slept with Harper. Yesterday, he seemed crushed by my mere suggestion of going on a date with another guy, and right now, he’s as light and easy and flirtatious as I’ve ever seen him.

I can never pin him down.

“You’ll never know until you have a real talk with him.”

I whip around to face her, raising my hands in the air. “I can’t. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it would be to cry in front of him? I almost did yesterday.”

“From what you told me, it sounds like he was ready to cry too. And what’s so terrible about crying?”

“It’s humiliating.” My voice is strained.

“It feels like you’re…” Serena huffs out a breath. “You’re hiding. Like you don’t want to feel at all.”

“I don’t.”

“Finding happiness requires a certain amount of risk. I knew when I started sleeping with Nick for the second time that he might disappoint me again, but I decided it was worth it.”

I groan. “Can we talk about this later? One of the camera guys keeps looking back at us. I think he’s worried he’s missing something juicy.”

She smiles. “Of course he’s worried. You’re the prize, Amy. Everyone knows Tristan only has eyes for you. The whole campus will be wondering why he’s giving Natalie and Mia any attention at all.” Her expression softens. “But of course, we can talk about this later. I’m sorry if I was…harsh.”

Her sweetness eases the tension in my shoulders. “You’re never harsh, dearest Jane.”

A while later, we reach the peak. The view of the ocean is veiled with a thick coat of fog, probably much to the film crew’s chagrin. Some of the staff starts setting up a picnic, and I’m startled by a warm hand on my arm.

“Hey,” Tristan says softly, reminding me of his dreamy bedroom voice.

“~Years, Amy. And it was worth the wait.” ~

An unexpected jolt shoots through me.

“You seem down.” He searches my face. “Are you upset that I’m hanging out with other girls?”

I can’t stop myself from flinching. I’m too listless to hide my pain.

“I thought you were going to avoid me,” I say.

His gaze darts to the camera crew and back at me. As if coming to some kind of resolution, his eyes grow hard, and he grabs me by the arm. Before I get the chance to say anything, he pulls me away from the group and toward a rocky outcrop shaded by a cluster of pines.

“Now isn’t the time,” I say. “The crew will find us.”

“And I’ll tell them to leave. You’re upset. Now is the time to have our talk. You have something you want to say to me. I can see it all over your face.”

Moisture gathers in my eyes. Oh God, I’m about to cry at just the idea of telling him how I really feel.

“~I know you slept with Harper, and it crushed me.”~

What would he think of me then? I’ve spent all my energy these past few weeks showing him I’m strong and brave.

He’ll know what I really am. Weak and terrified.

I take a step back, as if distancing myself physically will create an emotional boundary. “I’m just not that into you, okay? That’s all that’s going on.”

His expression darkens. “That’s not the truth, and you know it. Is it really about the bet? Does it bother you that much? I’ll tell the frat I lost.”

I shake my head. “I don’t care about the bet anymore.” I take a step back. “Now let’s get back—”

“No!”

He grabs my shoulders, his tall form towering over me. “Talk to me, Amy. Tell me what’s wrong.”

A sob catches in my throat, and panic grips me by the chest.

~Don’t cry, Amy. You’re stronger than this. ~

I inhale deeply. “We have nothing to talk about. I’m not into you, and that’s the end of the story.”

He huffs, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you. This is who you really are, huh?”

The contempt in his voice sends a chill down my spine. “What do you mean?”

He sneers. “You’re playing games with me.”

“I’m not playing games.” My voice is weak. “You’re the game player. Literally. You entered me into the game just to mess with me. You lied when you said you were trying to make Harper jealous.”

His jaw clenches. “That’s all over. I’m done playing games. I have been for weeks now.” He sneers. “But look at you. You can see how miserable I am, and you’re enjoying it. You’re drawing it out. Punishing me without even telling me what I did wrong. You’re a coward, Amy. I almost pity you.”

The word “coward” is like freezing cold water dumped over my skin. Isn’t that what Serena was implying earlier, too? I hide myself away because I’m too fragile for the exquisite highs and despairing lows of life. I live in a languorous middle ground instead, as exhilarating as a tepid bath.

What could I possibly say to him in response? I’ve spent the last six years living in a world of my own creation—my fanfic—where I have complete control and nothing to lose.

He grabs me by the chin, forcing me to look at him. I strain every muscle in my body to keep the sob locked in my chest. “Is this how the rest of your life is going to be? You’re going to stay locked inside yourself and run away at the slightest conflict?”

An uncomfortable heat vibrates over my skin.

“If you are…” He takes a step back, shaking his head. “I was an idiot being mesmerized by you telling me every thought that entered your head. I thought you were dazzling. I was wrong. If we ever got together, you’d bore me to tears.”

The dam breaks. Tears spill over, hot and relentless, searing my cheeks.

It’s really happening. I’m crying in front of him.

And it’s not nearly as painful as finding out who I really am. I also thought I was the type of person who speaks her mind and embraces her passions no matter what people think. The most meaningful endeavor of my life has been writing fanfic most people would deem cringeworthy. But what does it matter if I can’t speak my mind when it’s difficult, when my emotions threaten to make me look weak?

I’m a failure, even at being myself. I don’t know who I am anymore.

“Shit, Amy, I didn’t—” Tristan’s voice is as gentle as I ever heard it. He reaches out, hovering his hand over my shoulder. I try to jerk away and stumble on a rock behind me. I fall to the ground, and a sharp sting shoots up my spine.

A stifled sob bursts out of me. A distant voice tells me I’ll be mortified later. The thing I most feared is happening. I’m sitting here on the dusty ground crying like a baby in front of Tristan Wolfe.

I don’t care.

“Oh God, Amy.” Tristan sounds frantic now. “I really didn’t mean it. I promise I didn’t mean it.”

I nod jerkily, wiping the tears from under my eyes. “You have nothing to apologize for. You’re right.”

“No.” He reaches out to lift me up, and I notice that his hand is shaking. I don’t take it. I lift myself off the ground and dart away. The trees skate by me until Serena comes into view.

Tristan’s thumping footsteps sound behind me. “Amy, please!”

When I get to Serena, her eyes grow huge before resting on Tristan. “What did he do?”

“I need to go home.” My voice is breathless. “Can you make an excuse to the director?”

TRISTAN

There’s a roar in my head. It’s so loud that I can’t hear Serena’s words to Amy.

Unbearable anxiety claws through my insides. Why the fuck did I say that? It wasn’t even close to the truth, and here I was accusing her of hiding away from me.

She’s not a coward. She’s the only person brave enough to tell me off. I can take off my mask with her. I don’t have to be an arrogant charmer in front of Amy. She doesn’t like that version of me anyway.

She likes the real me, or at least she used to.

I could tell her any fucking thought that occurred to me, and she’d stare at me with that rapt attention I’ve grown to crave. She’s the only person who’s ever allowed me to relax in my own skin without the anxiety of being perceived as dull.

She has every reason to be afraid to talk to me. We had an honest conversation that day in the library. She told me her fanfic pseudonym—something only her closest friends knew about—and I used it against her.

She’s not a coward, but she is cautious with me, because I’ve proved to her in the past that I’m not safe. And I’ve proved it once again by uttering words that seemed to have crushed her.

I approach the two of them cautiously, and Serena wraps her arms around Amy and pulls her away.

Serena’s flashing eyes bore into me. “Go away.”

“No!” A rope wraps around my heart, pulling as tight as a noose. If I don’t fix this, I’ll lose the one person in the world who makes me feel alive. “Please.”

Serena guides Amy away and heads toward the director.

Oh, fuck. They’re going to leave.

They’re going to leave, and I may never see Amy again.

A fog descends over me, thicker than mud. If I lose her, I’ll lose myself too. She lights me up. She turns my dull, dark world to color.

When Serena marches past me hand in hand with Amy, I dart around them and stand in their path. Amy immediately buries her face in Serena’s shoulder, probably to hide her tears.

Tears that came from me.

Oh God, I want to die.

“Please, Amy. Believe me when I say I didn’t mean it. I’m begging you.”

Serena huffs. “Tristan, get out of the way.”

In my desperation, I fall to my knees. The rocky ground shoots arrows of pain up my legs. Distantly, I hear the muttering of the camera crew and their quick movements, but I find I can’t move.

“Amy,” I shout. “Please, just—” The lump in my throat grows so large I can’t speak.

Serena guides Amy around me, and for the first time, I catch a glimpse of her face. It’s an image that will probably follow me into the afterlife. Her eyes, usually so full of fire, stare vacantly ahead of her. Dead eyes. That’s what they are. Because I shut off the light behind them.

I scramble to my feet, the sharp stones biting into my palms. “We’re calling off this date,” I shout to the crew. “There’s nothing here for me if Amy is gone. And goddamn it, have someone walk with them.” I gesture at Amy and Serena, now disappearing down the hill.

A crew member jogs in their direction, and the director approaches me. He starts talking, his tone is coaxing but I don’t hear the words.

What can I possibly do to ease this despair in my chest, to wipe away the agony in her eyes?

I’ll die if I don’t fix this.