Page 94 of Wildfire
I feel numb. “Okay. Do I get a plus-one?”
“Do you need a plus-one? Who is it? Emily?”
“Emilia,” I correct him. “But no, not her. I met someone. He’s cal—”
“Met someone where, exactly?”
I don’t know why my hands are sweating, but they are. “At camp. He’s cal—”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Aurora. I’m not letting you bring a stranger to a private family occasion.” He interrupts me again and I can feel my heart pounding as my frustration grows. “You won’t even remember who he is after you stop playing make-believe at that farm. Be realistic for once, for Christ’s sake. It’s my wedding, not a children’s birthday party.”
My throat is completely dry, but I force the words out anyway.“He’s important to me, Dad. I’d like to bring him. We go to the same college, it is realistic, we like each other.”
He sighs, and I feel it all the way in my bones. It’s like acid. “I’m sure your fling is very important and special, but I said no. Can I trust you to be there alone, Aurora? Yes or no?”
Fling. “Yes.”
“Good. I’ll see you in a few weeks. Bye.”
The call disconnects before I can say bye back and I sit in the same spot frozen, trying to process how my day was bulldozed by a three-minute phone call.
I don’t know what I thought would happen when I answered his call. I could have stopped talking at “you’re my daughter” and been blissfully unaware. I’d have spent the rest of the day floating around feeling untouchable. But I went too far, asked too much.
If I wasn’t so desperate for something I’m clearly never going to get, or if I grew up and stopped being pathetic about the fact he doesn’t care, maybe I wouldn’t feel like I’m being run over when I talk to him.
I need to get away from here, and that’s the thing I repeat over and over as I somehow get myself from the picnic table to my cabin. Sitting on my bed, I lean against the wall while I replay the conversation.
I think about what I said and how he responded, then what I could have said instead and how he might have responded to that. I keep going and going and going, until there’s an endless stream of dialogue spinning around my head and I can’t do anything to get the outcome I want.
The outcome where he changes and I feel like he wants me in his life for more than just media purposes.
My hands are shaking as I pull my suitcase from the wardrobe and open it on my bed. I love Honey Acres, but pretending it’s my home when it’s not is silly. Dad’s right, it’s all make-believe. They’rejust people who were paid to look after me and probably took pity on me.
I don’t know why I brought so many things with me, knowing I’d hardly wear any of them. It’s just making it harder to get out of here quickly. I don’t know why I believed I’d last the summer. My shorts won’t fold. Jenna knew deep down I wouldn’t last. No matter what angle I twist and turn my clothes in, they look messy and uneven in my suitcase. I wonder if Emilia thought I’d fail, too. Russ is great at folding my clothes.
I could go to Bora Bora and turn off my cell phone.
I don’t even need a cell phone. Fuck, I might just throw it into the trash.
Why won’t these shorts fucking fold properly?
I need to tell someone to make sure Freya remembers to put on her bug spray and that Michael doesn’t eat anything with sugar after 6 p.m. I’ll miss the talent show, but Emilia can make it work without me. Everyone will be fine. Opening the drawer in my bedside table to empty it, I spot the origami dove Russ made for me next to my collection of friendship bracelets from the kids.
I sink to the floor beside my bed as my chest constricts, and years of hurt that I’ve buried beneath reckless actions and self-deprecating jokes finally race to the surface as a sob. It’s like the dam breaks and I just let the tears fall because there’s nothing else to do and no one else who can fix it.
I’m not sure how long I’m sitting here before I hear his footsteps. “Ror?”
The cabin door opens and I can only imagine how chaotic it looks in here. Suits me, though, I suppose. Russ sinks to the floor in front of me, immediately reaching for my face to wipe away the tears. “Going somewhere, Roberts?” he asks softly.
“I have to go. I need to leave.”
“Okay, let me pack my bag, too. I’ll come with you.”
My breathing is uneven, and my eyes begin to sting. “You can’t. You have to stay here. You need this job. And you need to make sure they pass the cabin inspection and check Sadia’s bunk for spiders. Xander doesn’t do it properly. I haven’t changed; I’ll just disappoint you, Russ. I don’t want to disappoint you.”
He crosses his legs and picks me up, nestling me in his lap. Everything about feeling him touching me makes me feel better. After kissing each of my eyelids, then each of my cheeks, he kisses both of my ears and my breathing begins to fall into a rhythm with his.
“You could never disappoint me, Aurora, and you don’t need to be anybody but yourself. I know you’re hurting and I want to make it better, but if you want me to stay and check for spiders, you need to stay, too, because if you go, I go. We all need you and we all want you here.”
