Page 29 of Secret Nights and Northern Lights
Ben’s head whips around as I realize what I’ve said. Flutters rip through my belly as those green eyes do that thing where they bore into my soul. Neither of us says a word. I know we’re boththinking about it, though; Fourth of July at the lake. But I don’t have the emotional wherewithal to go there, so I swallow hard and drop my head to stare down at my hands.
“It’s just,” I continue on, glazing over my unfortunate mishap, “I don’t think I ever realized how much that one little decision upset me, or how it changed the course of my life fairly drastically. Now that I really consider it, it was the first time I remember just going along with what someone else wanted and never voicing whatIwanted. And I think it set the course for the rest of my childhood. Perhaps even my adulthood.”
Again, it occurs to me that this is probably a rant best suited for literally anyone other than the man sitting on this bench with me. Internally, I cringe at everything that just poured out of me. “God, I probably sound so whiny and overdramatic.”
“No, you don’t.” Ben’s hand covers mine, just the briefest touch to still my own hand, furiously working the zipper of my jacket. Then he turns his full body toward me, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and lowering his head to catch my downcast gaze. “You want to know what I remember about kindergarten?”
I nod.
“I remember walking into Ms. Gomez’s classroom that very first day in my brand-new Batman T-shirt your mom bought for me so I could match the twins.” He smiles, adding shyly, “For bravery, of course.”
I smile back at him. “Right. Of course.”
“I remember the group of rowdy kids already gathered at the Play-Doh station. Your brothers the loudest of them all.” He huffs a short laugh. “In fact, I think they’d already established teams for freeze tag at recess.”
“Sounds right.”
“And then I remember you.” All traces of humor fade from his expression. “I remember the girl from down the street. Standing all alone near the bookshelves with tears in her eyes, looking overwhelmed butbraveall the same.”
My vision goes wavy as my eyes burn, a thick lump forming in my throat. Because now I remember, too. I remember standing in the corner alone, unsure what to do while the teacher greeted more kids filing in. I remember some tearful parents hanging around the perimeter of the classroom, not quite ready to leave their precious little ones behind yet. My mother wasn’t one of them. And I remember Ben. He came over to me in his Batman T-shirt and worn-out Nikes, hair sticking up in every direction.Don’t be scared, Mona,he’d said to me then. I’ll stay here with you if you want.
And now it hurts to breathe. Each inhale a sharp, slicing pain through the center of my chest.
“We, uh, we shouldn’t talk aboutusback then,” I say, although I know it’s unfair because I’m the one who brought this topic up, but I’m a coward and it’s the only way I know how to stop this hurt.
Ben shrugs a shoulder and sighs, leaning away again. “I’m not sure I know how to talk about the past without talking about us, Ems. Our pasts are tied together.” He stands from the bench and walks off toward the water’s edge.
And that’s the thing about trying not to care about Ben Carter. I’ll never actually be capable of it. Because despite the one really bad thing he did to me, there was so,somuch good that came before it.
Chapter 9
Tip #4 when visiting Iceland:Good luck mustering up the energy for the nightlife scene after a full day of Icelandic activities.
The absolutely devastating part of going down all those steps to get to the bottom of Kerið Crater is that one must returnupall those steps. To my embarrassment—which is practically becoming a third person on this trip with us—I make Ben stop at least five times so I can catch my breath and let the burn in my calves cool.
And yet, is our itinerary for the day complete?
Suki says no.
We press onward to Gullfoss Falls to complete our tour of the Golden Circle. Despite the parking lot’s close proximity to the falls, my shaky thighs force me to wobble like a penguin, and even the smooth, paved path feels like a special kind of torture designed specifically for my ass.
But once Gullfoss comes into view, I see that we aren’t at just any old waterfall.
Gullfoss is amonster.
A crevice in the earth with water gushing over the edge of not one, but two separate falls, the combination creating a drop of over one hundred feet and a magnitude of such force it could sweep me and every tourist here away in all of zero-point-two seconds to never be seen or heard from again.
“This is fucking massive,” Ben echoes, camera perched at eye level.
The awe in his voice matches the awe filling my chest, and I know then that Ben understands my need to see the world in a way no one else in my life ever will. On this trip, I’m learning this photography thing isn’t just a career he stumbled into out of need, no matter how it started. I think he feels it, too, that deep-seated desire to see every place this world has to offer, impossible as it may be.
By the time we make it back to the hotel in Reykjavík several hours later, my body is on the verge of collapse. Maybe that’s a bit dramatic, but I do limp down the hallway before coming to a stop outside our hotel room doors. Before we part ways, I say to Ben, “Suki’s itinerary has us exploring the nightlife scene in Reykjavík tonight, but honestly, I don’t think I can leave this hotel again. In fact, I don’t think my swollen feet can even fit in normal shoes right now. I know at least three of my toes would start bleeding if I even tried.” Mason had warned me to break in my hiking boots before the trip, but with only two days to prepare, what was I supposed to do, wear them around the streets of Brooklyn?
Ben’s lips curl into an amused smile as I lean against my door, unable to support my own weight another second. “Well, we can’t have bloody toes, can we? What about dinner, though?”
He poses an important question. As tired as I am, I’m also fucking famished. This must be how elite athletes feel. “I think my dinner plans are going to consist of ordering room service and crying in the shower. But you should still go out. Don’t let me keep you from enjoying your night.”
Tilting his head, Ben appears to think it over for a moment and then says, “I’m not much of a nightlife kind of guy. Room service sounds great.”
