Page 20 of My Favorite Bad Decision
“I think I’ve got it,” I say, handing her the water bottle. “Alex will be back to slobbering over you any minute now.”
She raises a brow. Is she about to point out that I sound jealous? It would be fair. I do.
“This might come as a shock to you, Miller, but I am not actually in the market for someone’s twenty-four-year-old son.”
Why are you encouraging him then? Why are you laughing at his dumb jokes and eating his gummy bears and letting him sit beside you at meals?
My jaw grinds with the effort to hold the words in. She isn’t actually encouraging him. She’s just being Kit—oblivious to the fact that she is the shiniest of objects, blinding everyone who passes by. She thinks her sharp words ward people off, but I’ve seen how they function in the real world—I’ve been victim to them myself—and all they are is something jagged you find yourself caught upon, leaving you to dangle like prey while she continues blinding you.
Or maybe it’s just that I’ve seen her with her family—that I’ve seen how deeply she cares, how good she is to all of them—so I know it’s an act. A role she assumed in order to keep them safe.
“Then you might want to let him know,” I reply.
She sighs. “Look, I have no issue with that, but it needs to come up organically. I can’t just shout, ‘I have a boyfriend’ in the middle of dinner, apropos of nothing.”
“It seems to me that people usually miss their significant other or have enough history with them that a mention or two comes up.”
She frowns at me. “I’m just a private person.”
But she looks unhappy as she walks off. Given how often her father mentions that he doesn’t think Kit loves the guy, I may have hit a nerve.
I hope I did.
Ninety minutes later, when we enter the dining tent, Kit’s hair is still damp. I wish she was wearing a hat—it’s already cold and will get a lot worse overnight.
Our oxygen levels are checked.
“Mine is, once again, the best,” announces Gerald when we’re done.
“You just climbed here two months ago,” Gideon reminds him wearily. “You’re still acclimated.”
“And actually, we were all at ninety-four or ninety-five yesterday, and we still are,” adds Kit, “while you’ve dropped two points. I wouldn’t get too excited.”
Gerald pouts while Alex takes over the conversation, telling some dumb story about his athletic prowess that probably isn’t even true. It’s only Kit’s attention he’s seeking, and she’s too busy picking things out of tonight’s stew to notice.
“How come your boyfriend didn’t come?” I cut in, and her head jerks up, her brow furrowing as if she doesn’t understand the question.
“Blake?” she asks.
“Do you have more than one boyfriend?”
She shakes her head as if clearing it. “No, but…why would he…” She stops herself. “This was a last-minute trip for me. He wouldn’t have been able to leave work that fast.”
“I didn’t realize you had a boyfriend,” Stacy says, sounding a little disappointed. Alex is probably going to cry himself to sleep. “Is it new?”
Kit glances down the table, a hint of pink in her cheeks. “No, not at all. We’re, uh, actually getting engaged sometime this spring.”
A strange pit forms in my stomach. “Engaged,” I repeat flatly.
She laughs. “I guess my dad hasn’t told youeverything. My mom’s had the wedding half-planned since we met.”
Granted, until this week I hadn’t spoken to Kit in ten years, but I know for a fucking fact she’s not in love with Blake Hall. I mean, we’re on the third day of this trip and she hasn’t willingly mentioned him once.
I also know shecouldn’tbe in love with Blake Hall, because he doesn’t deserve for her to be in love with him.
Outside, the group stands for a moment, watching the sun set. We still can’t see Kili, but the clouds floating toward Meru—Tanzania’s second-highest mountain—look like an ocean, and everyone wants to grab a picture. I secretly get a photo of Kit to share with her dad if I ever forgive him for sending her here in the first place, which is unlikely.
In my tent, I get into my sleeping bag and continue to worry. I wanted to warn her about sleeping with wet hair and ask about that bump on her head, but I didn’t. She thinks I’m still treating her like a child when I give her these warnings but that’s not what my concern is about at all. I’m not sure what it is, but it isn’t that.
