Page 72 of Camping with the Boss

“Jet is watching us. Did you know he can read lips?”

Jared swears. “That explains so much.”

Ander lowers his voice. “What’s going on, Wade?”

I shrug, needing time before having to explain this. “You know how Meredith is.”

“I do. That’s why I asked.”

“Hey,” Jared says, touching Ander’s arm. The gesture is more intimate than I expect. Which is weird because I’m sure they’re hooking up. But I thought that’s all it was. The alternativetheory, my best friend and my brother working together on something they’re keeping from me, hurts more than I’m willing to admit. “We can’t discuss this here. Not now.”

“Fine,” he snaps, glaring at Jared and then me. “But we will discuss this later.”

“Fuck.” Jared groans. “He’s pissed.”

“You think?” When Jared continues to stare after him, I ask the question I’ve wanted to ask for days. “What’s going on with you and my brother.”

“Nothing.”

“I thought we didn’t lie to each other,” I say through gritted teeth as I smile and wave to Vivian and Carol.

He snorts. “Since when?”

I give him my full attention. “Dammit, Jared, we need to Debate Club this thing.”

His smile is worth the blush I can feel on my face. “That was high school. And the only way we got to hang out without Meredith getting suspicious.”

It was the only thing that kept me sane back then. “Honestly, Jared? This feels like high school.”

He watches me for a moment. “Maybe you should make out with your crush behind a tree.”

His words remind me of Canyon and our favorite oak tree. And it makes me a little cranky. “Shut up. I’m serious. We need to compare notes.”

“Do you think River was right? Did she set this all up?” His eyes dart to Ander and back. “And do you really think Ander is involved?”

“I think she did. But I’m not sure about Ander.” And then I suggest the thing I don’t want to do. At all. “We should talk to River again.”

Jared nods and darts another glance at my brother. “I agree. We need to know what’s going on. So, for once, we can be ready for her.”

Chapter Seventeen

Canyon

Friday, June 13th, 8:00 a.m.

The diner in Plevna is small but cozy with a country store feel. You can buy loaves of bread or an eagle carved in wood. Alex waves me over to a booth in the corner. How early did she get here?

“Thanks for coming, Alex.”

She gives me her signature steely-eyed look. As an SRO, she’s perfected the art of getting confessions. “You’re late.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“You’re never late. And something’s different.” She leans across the table, every part of her focused on finding the truth. Why did I call her again?

But I am happy to see her. She’s my best friend and a bit of normalcy. “It’s easy to be on time when you never go anywhere.”

“True. Good point. But,” she says, waving a finger at me, “you like routines. Schedules. Rules.”

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