Page 73 of Curious
I swallow hard and hold up the birthday card I’ve carted around for years. “This.”
Cam does a sharp intake. “Wow.”
“Do I have to explain it?” I whisper, looking around at the group. They’re all familiar, friendly faces. Ones I know wouldn’t judge me. But still, it’s hard to tell the story of my mother’s rejection.
“No,” Sam says gently.
I walk up to the fire, holding the card. It’s worn from my opening and closing it so many times. Taking it from shitty apartment to shitty apartment. Then to decent ones. And finally to where I am now, with Cam.
I want to throw off my past expectations. I want to throw off feeling like I wasn’t enough. I want to lose the dead weight.
I don’t know if I can do that. But at least I can stop carrying around a reminder that I wasn’t enough for my mom.
With watering eyes—I’m sure it’s from the smoke—I toss the card into the bonfire and watch the flames lick at it until it disintegrates and the black ash rises into the night.
And then I begin to tell my friends what happened to me. They listen, some of them wincing, as I tell them how my mom took care of me for eighteen years and not a day more. When I’m done, Cam gathers me in his arms and holds me tight. My friends all murmur appreciation that I told them.
Jules picks up his phone, cranks up the death metal, and we sit by the fire, watching the past burn.
CHAPTER23
Camden
It’s cold on the mountain, the brisk air and bright sun working together to let us to see for miles. Up here in the trees and snow, it’s hard to believe in the smog of Los Angeles.
I’ve finally been released—mostly—from the doctors and physical therapists, but I’m going to baby my ankle. I wrapped it up and braced it, and I’m planning on sticking to the bunny slopes. At worst (best?), Shelby and I can enjoy après-ski drinks by the fire in the lodge.
I thought about snowboarding, but I feel like going old school. Shelby’s with me, his platinum hair sticking out under the bright pink glasses that are perched atop his head. He looks like he’s from the eighties, and I dig it.
“Ready?” I ask, as we start trudging to the lift.
“Absolutely.”
Noah and August are behind us. “Those two are such daredevils sometimes,” Shelby says. “You’d never know it by the way they look.” He sighs. “At least they finally got their heads out of their asses enough to realize that they’ve been totally in love with each other ever since they met.”
I scoff. “Haven’t they known each other since they were kids?”
“Yep.” He grins. “And Noah’s been heart-eyes for August that whole time. Like August said last night, he only realized it when Noah got hurt going down a mountain too fast on a bike—but it was always there.”
“You know talking about that kind of injury isn’t the best thing to do right before hopping on a ski lift?”
“I know. Still.”
We reach the lift and position ourselves to sit on the bench as it takes us up.
“This always nerves me out a little bit,” Shelby says, his legs swinging. “Being up so high with nothing around and nothing really holding us in.”
“You have to trust that you’re not going to do anything foolish.”
“Are you going to do anything foolish?” he asks.
I lean over and kiss him and hear a catcall from behind us. It must be August. “Does that count?”
“Nope.” His eyes twinkle. “I do like how you’re so comfortable with PDA.”
I shrug. “I’ve always liked how you taste. From the moment we were married.”
He giggles. “Awesome.” Then he sighs dreamily. “That first kiss was amazing, I have to say.”
