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She’s watching them through the campfire. The flames flicking around his face, one dancing just under his chin. When he smiles, the light from it shines against his teeth and his skin looks warm and orange and inviting. It’s how she imagines love when it’s late and she’s alone and she can’t be sure she’s ever felt it at all. Not really, anyway. Not the way she should, anyway.

They’re close, talking quietly and intimately. He’s got something in his hands, a small piece of wood and he keeps looking down at it, toying with it and smiling. Like paperclips or torn pieces of paper, but not. Karen puts a hand on his knee, leans in and whispers something in his ear that makes him pull back, playful shock on his face before he shakes his head and laughs.

It’s when the quiet breeze pushes Karen’s hair back from her shoulders, exposing the smooth skin of her neck, her perfectly pronounced collarbones. It’s when he stops toying with that small piece of wood long enough to push her bangs out of her eyes, his hand running down her face and lingering for just a brief, fleeting second on her neck, her shoulder. It’s when she leans in and kisses him gently, their lips holding for a second.

She stands quickly, startling Ryan who’s been half asleep next to her for the last hour. She mutters an apology as he looks up at her questioningly, but it’s all she can really get out before she feels that hot burn of regret and loneliness and trying so hard to be strong when she’s not. She tries to move her feet fast enough to get away, but she knows he sees her. She knows he’s watching her hurry away from the group to a cluster of trees where she can hang onto one of the branches and try to keep herself from falling apart completely.

It’s just seconds before she hears footsteps. Long strides and heavy feet. She knows.

She turns away, letting the darkness, the dim light of the late evening cover her face. The tree branches are low enough that the leaves can aid in shrouding her ruined face as well. She tries not to make a sound, bites down on her bottom lip hard, her eyes squeezing shut. But instead of silence, this horrible high pitched noise comes from deep in her throat and her knees go out a little as she feels defeat taking over.

He says her name with a voice that’s low and secretive. He says it once and then again, something like desperation creeping up into it.

She doesn’t let him say it a third time. She turns around and doesn’t bother to compose herself or wipe at the big, hot tears rolling down her cheeks or the snot coming from her nose. Just looks at him bleakly without saying a word, because maybe she wants him to see it just this one time.

He makes this sound like, “Oh,” but not really, and steps backwards away from her. Like she’s diseased or a ghost or something else horrifying and unpleasant. Then he takes it back, steps forward again and says, “Why?” Or maybe it’s, “What’s wrong?”

She just knows that she lets go of the branch then, still holding tight though so it scrapes against her palm. She just knows that he’s beautiful, really just so beautiful in this light. With half of his face in shadow and the other half in the pinkish orange light of a sunset. It makes her think of cotton sheets and bare skin and waking up to someone who makes waking up a little less like just wanting to fall back asleep.

She just knows that she says, “It was selfish of me to think you’d wait. I just love you and need you to know that it hurts to see you and her together like that.” And she shakes her head, continuing before he can say anything, “I know. I should’ve said it before, back when it wasn’t all so- But I couldn’t and I’m sorry for that.”

And it isn’t everything she’s wanted to say to him, but it’s close enough and she feels her heart like birds’ wings inside her chest.

He says, “I- Pam, I-” He makes a frustrated noise and, “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Neither did I,” she says, that bird in her chest slowing down as if landing.

Karen laughs from far off and she watches him shut his eyes at the sound, his head tilting backwards towards the sky. He says something she can’t hear, but she thinks maybe it’s an apology that isn’t really for her or maybe not for anyone in particular.

Then he takes two steps forward, ducking his head underneath the low branches of the tree. She backs up until she feels the bark of its trunk rough against her back. There are locusts, the crackling sound of the campfire, that muted whispering of the wind . There’s that clean, summery smell of lake water and a warmth that comes off of him in waves, sending a hum through her skin.

There are fresh spring leaves caught in his hair when he bends down and kisses her.

It’s like the first, soft and slow and maybe a little bit hesitant. Until she stands on her toes and pulls him closer. His lips part just slightly, the tip of his tongue touching her bottom lip for the tiniest second. She suddenly thinks about Karen and firelight and how this doesn’t really make him hers.

“Stop,” she says against his mouth as it opens against hers more seriously this time.

He pulls back, looking shocked and she quickly says, “No, I mean-” so he understands that she isn’t running. “I just- With Karen and everything…”

He nods. She can’t really see his face now with the sun almost completely gone, but his head is bent down towards hers still and his eyes are half closed and holding focus on her mouth. They move back to her eyes finally and he says, “Yeah, you’re right. God-”

“I guess you have to make a decision now,” she says quietly.

“Not really,” he cocks his head at her and smiles a little. “It’s just- I should’ve never let things get so-”

“You were trying to be happy,” she says, interrupting him.

“Yeah, but now someone’s getting hurt because of it.”

She shifts on her feet and says, “Yeah, well. Either way someone’s-” But it’s not something that needs to be finished.

He looks at her, his eyes squinting to find her through the darkness. When he can’t do it so well with his eyes, he tries with his hands and he finds her hair, pushing his fingers through the curls of her ponytail, letting them slide between his fingers. She shakes a little when he touches her and closes her eyes.

He presses his lips to her hairline and says, “Okay,” letting the two syllables slide along her skin. She can feel the slick surface of his teeth against her forehead and for a second she wonders about the future.

She keeps her eyes closed and hears footsteps. Long strides and heavy feet. She knows.



unfold is the author of 102 other stories.
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