Page 10 of Break My Heart
He gets up. ‘It was good seeing you. I’m glad your dad’s doing better. I’ll make sure to stop by your brewery sometime soon.’ He puts some money on the table and walks away. I look back and see him going up to his wife as she comes in the door.
‘Are you done?’
I turn back and see Gina holding my empty glass, her friendly smile replaced by a look of annoyance that I’m still here.
‘Actually, I think I’ll try the porter, the one Hank had.’
She stares at me a moment, almost like she recognizes me, then goes to get my beer. I watch her, still not believing she’s the girl who tortured me at camp.
‘Do you remember me?’ I ask as she sets my beer down.
‘Why would I remember you?’ she snaps. ‘We just met.’
‘No. We met before, when we were seven. At camp.’
She shakes her head. ‘Sorry, but I don’t remember.’
‘You don’t remember camp or you don’t remember me?’
‘I remember going to camp, but I don’t remember much about it. It was a long time ago.’
‘You don’t remember the competitions? The canoe races? Swim races? The pie-eating contest?’
‘Sorry, but no. I really need to get back to work. Enjoy the beer.’ She walks off, through a door to a back room.
How does she not remember me? How is that possible? I’d understand if she couldn’t remember some of the other people at camp. I can’t remember most of them either. But Gina and I were rivals. We woke up every morning determined to beat each other in that day’s competition. None of the other campers even came close to beating us.
And on the last night of camp, during the party they hadaround the campfire, Gina and I snuck off into the woods and I kissed her. I thought she was pretty and I liked that she was competitive like me. So I kissed her. It wasn’t a grown-up kiss. It was a quick peck on the lips. I was really nervous before I did it, and when it was over, I was sure she was going to slap me so I ran away before she could.
When I got back to the bonfire, she was sitting with her friends, the girls she shared a tent with, acting like nothing happened. She didn’t even look at me, which was good because at that point I was too embarrassed to have her look at me. I thought if she did, she’d laugh at me or yell at me or tell everyone what I did.
That was the last time I saw her. The next morning she was gone. Her grandpa came and got her before we’d even had breakfast. I wanted to say goodbye to her, but she left before I could. When I got home, I missed her, which was weird because at camp I couldn’t stand her, or that’s what I told everyone, including myself. But if I’m being honest, I kind of liked her. I liked that she wanted to win and wasn’t afraid to compete in any of the competitions, even if it was mostly boys competing.
For years I’ve told myself I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her because she annoyed me so damn bad, but I think the real reason is because I liked her.
I thought she might feel the same way about me, but she doesn’t even remember me.
Chapter 3
Gina
I didn’t expect Sawyer to look like that; tall and muscular with thick dark hair and that manly face. The guy is hot, which isn’t good now that we’re living in the same town. I was hoping he’d be short and fat and wear glasses. If he was, I could get past my stupid childhood crush on him and finally get him out of my head.
But no, he just had to be really hot. Maybe he has a girlfriend, or a wife. He has to, right? A guy who looks like that has to be taken. So I have nothing to worry about. The feelings he sparked in me tonight will no longer be an issue because he belongs to someone else. I couldn’t get involved with him even if I wanted to.
I collapse back on my bed and take a deep cleansing breath, feeling better now that I’ve created that little story in my head. Sawyer has a girlfriend. He’s off limits. I can relax.
Except I can’t, because I still feel something for him, especially after seeing him tonight. What is wrong with me? Why do I still have a crush on a guy I knew when I was seven? I’ve had plenty of boyfriends over the years, and yet my mind still goes back to thedorky kid with messy brown hair who threw a fit every time he lost to me at camp. I can still see him, stomping around, scolding himself, throwing his hands in the air. I thought it was hilarious, and adorable. He couldn’t stand losing to a girl, especially one he secretly liked.
Sawyer pretended to hate me, but I know it was all for show. The last night of camp he proved that by kissing me. He told me he had to tell me a secret so I followed him from the bonfire into the woods. He was so nervous, all fidgety and he kept looking at his feet. I asked him what the secret was, and instead of answering me, he kissed me. It was so fast I barely knew what happened. And then he ran away, faster than I’d ever seen him run.
It wasn’t a bad kiss for a seven-year-old, and it was on the lips, which was bold for a kid that age. I’m sure he thought I’d hit him for doing it, which is probably why he ran off. But I wasn’t going to hit him. If he’d stuck around, I probably would’ve kissed him back, but on the cheek. I’d never kissed anyone before Sawyer. At that age I thought the whole idea of it was gross. But for some reason the idea of kissing Sawyer was less gross than kissing some other boy.
* * *
The next day I’m working on yet another variation of my hard cider when Ryder calls.
‘Hey,’ I answer as I pour the apple mixture into a jar.
