Page 47 of Kiss and Tell
“Maybe you make best friends wherever you go,” he continues, “but I don’t. It’s rare. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted it to be like it was. The four of us again. No more trading custody of Ben and Natalie.”
“Sawyer…” I don’t know how I want to finish my thought. Two full days in Oak Crest have shown me that I’ve grown more than I thought I had since that last summer. But I don’t know what that looks like going forward.
“You don’t have to say anything. But I have two requests. First, see the moon?”
I nod. “Can’t miss it.”
“It’s a third-quarter moon. Do you remember what that symbolizes from camp astronomy nights?”
I run through the list in memory and smile when I find the answer. “Forgiveness?”
“Yeah. I want to say again I’m sorry for the way I treated you back then. If I had it to do all over again, I’d do it differently.”
Maybe the moon is working its forgiving magic, but I find myself drawn to the spell of his words. “What would you change?”
“I’d have come out here myself that morning. I’d have made sure you knew how awesome I think you are. I would have figured out how to leave as friends.”
I let the words settle over me, staring out over the water. “That would have been better.”
He shifts, drawing his feet out of the water and turning his whole body toward me. “Everything in me says I took the wrong fork in the road back then. This is where you and I were always meant to be. Friends. Good with each other, Natalie, Ben, and this place. I know I can’t rewrite the past. But I hope you can accept my apology.”
His eyes are soft and earnest as they meet mine.
Weeks of pain, months of feeling less than, years of figuring out how to be good enough. But I did figure it out. So I tell him honestly what I’d realized on the old dock yesterday afternoon. “I forgive you, Sawyer.”
He looks away, and his whole body relaxes. At least a minute passes before he says, “Thank you.”
He’s done me a favor, honestly, because I feel lighter inside. We sit in more silence, and it’s comfortable, like that last summer.
Eventually, he stirs and turns toward me. “Can I push my luck?”
“Stretch…”
He smiles at the old camp name. “Hear me out. You can always say no.”
“No.”
“I meant after I say my idea.”
I give a fake annoyed sniff. “Fine.”
“I knew I was going to be lucky just to get a chance to apologize. But I’m serious about the friendship too. You’ve always been one of the coolest people I know. I took it for granted, but I wouldn’t do that again. Will you give me a chance to earn back our friendship?”
I do love the idea of not putting Ben and Natalie in the middle. It would be nice to show up for their important stuff and know Sawyer and I can have civil conversations. But friendship gets harder the older I get. Less time, less in common with people. I’m not sure what he’s asking for.
“What kind of friends are you hoping we’ll be?” I’ll never make assumptions about what he wants again; he has to spell it out.
“We’ll be the kind of friends where we can hang out together at Oak Crest during the off-season, and you’ll never have to stress about coming here. We’ll be hiking-and-hanging friends. All of us sitting by the campfire friends. Watch horror movies with Ben and Natalie friends.”
I don’t know. He’s painting a pretty picture, but it’s not how adult friendships work. “It takes time to build a friendship like that. Time we don’t have. But I promise we don’t have to take turns with Natalie and Ben anymore. That’s a pretty big win.”
“I have a plan,” he says.
“A plan,” I repeat. “To be friends? That is so…you.”
“I don’t leave important things up to chance,” he says. “We’re both here for a week. Remember how long a week felt during camp? Lots of strangers became best friends by the end of those weeks, so if you’re up for it, we’ve got a decent shot.”
A bubble of laughter wells up in spite of myself. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, but you’re paying me a lot of money to make this gala happen, remember? And Natalie, despite her calm therapist vibe, will probably burn down your house if you try to replace her as my best friend.”
