Page 66 of Down My Chimney

“You don’t think it’s dumb?” he asked. His eyes were focused on mine. “Or that it makesmedumb?”

“Blake, if anyone’s dumb, it’s me for saying that. Though you really should have been taking everything I said with a grain of salt. If I remember correctly, I also told you about a sex act that involved shoving a croissant up your—”

“Oh, are you boys making a house together?” Joanna said, swooping over to us before I could finish my sentence, which was probably for the best. Blake was blushing now, and I was pretty sure I was too. “It looks lovely.”

Did it? Despite our best efforts, the campsite still looked like it had been ravaged by marauding bears. But as Blake grinned at me from across the table, I couldn’t help grinning back.

We were talking again. Really talking.

Maybe I couldn’t undo the past, but I could still have him in my future—however he was willing to haveme.

* * *

Of course, it was easy to think that, during an afternoon visit that lasted an hour. But four days later, when it was time for our yearly trip to the Salazars’ cabin in Mammoth, I was right back to being nervous again.

More than nervous, actually. I was panicking. One afternoon, I could handle. But this was a whole week.

A whole week at the cabin where everything had changed for us last time. I wasn’t sure I could make it through without saying something I’d regret, which was to say, without accidentally confessing that I was still undeniably, incontrovertibly, and very inconveniently in love with him. We’d achieved a fragile peace, and I didn’t want to be the one to ruin it.

But by the time we’d been at the cabin for forty-eight hours, I started to wonder if Blake felt the same way. We were both being so polite and solicitous that I wanted to scream. It was like being on vacation with a very attentive waiter, while also trying tobea very attentive waiter. Like we were on a reality show competing to be America’s Most Deferential Ex-Boyfriend.

Who could get the other one the most glasses of water or refills of coffee, unasked? Who could leave the other one more shelf space in our shared bathroom? Who could stand outside longer, freezing his ass off, absolutely exhausted from a hike, holding open the door and insisting that the other one go inside first?

The third night we were there, our parents went out to a cocktail party, and Fliss and Claire went to a bar, leaving Blake and me alone for the first time in ages. We were sitting in the living room, watching a cooking show that my dad had put on TV before leaving.

Well, Blake was watching it. I was just staring blankly at the screen, unable to think about anything other than how close he was on the other end of the couch. It was torture.

“Here,” he said, pushing the remote towards me on the cushions after a few minutes. “Watch what you want. I’ll head downstairs and watch something on my laptop.”

“You don’t have to do that.” I pushed the remote towards him. “I can go down. I was in the middle of a PBS documentary on mountain goats anyway.”

He blinked, then pushed the remote back. “You should definitely stay up here then and watch it on the big screen.” He stood up. “My coach sent me some game tape to review anyway.”

“Thenyoushould get to use the big TV,” I said, standing up too. I tossed the remote back to his end of the couch. “The mountain goats will not be affected by whether I watch them on a tiny screen or not. Your thing is actually important.”

“It’s really not,” Blake said. “The season’s over, and I know he’s gonna make us watch it all together again in January.”

“It’s your house,” I said stubbornly.

“Andyou’rethe guest. Plus, you always say the graphics card on your laptop sucks, so you might as well—”

“Oh my God, just stop!” I cried.

“Stop what?”

“Stop being so nice to me! It’s weird. And fake. And your family isn’t around, so you don’t have to pretend you like me.”

“Pretend I—” Blake shook his head. “Henry, I’m not pretending. I just think you should be able to watch what you want on the nice TV.”

“But I don’t deserve it!” I exploded. “I was horrible to you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You wanna know why I really don’t want to go back to Europe?” I said. “You wanna know how my semester abroad really was? It sucked. Because I spent the whole time missing you, and realizing how badly I fucked up.”

“What do you—” Blake shook his head, like he couldn’t believe what I was saying. God, had he already written me off as a complete asshole?

That was fair, but it still stung.

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