Say You Still Love Me: Chapter 24
2006, Camp Wawa, End of Week Seven
“I dare you . . .” Kyle pauses to take a long drag from his cigarette, his gaze on the last bit of daylight as we lie sprawled out in the alcove at the bottom of the cliff. Our place. It’s cool and cast in shadow now, after a hot, sun-filled afternoon. “I’m tired of playing this game.”
I peer up at him, my head resting against his stomach. “You want to go back to your cabin?”
His head tilts downward to meet my gaze. “Do you?”
Yes, I mouth. Right now.
I get a lazy, suggestive smile in return as Kyle’s eyes drift over my bikini-clad body.
“Well, I want to go. I’m getting cold,” Ashley whines, wrapping her arms around herself and exaggerating a shiver.
“You need another one of these, then.” Eric holds up a shot of tequila. We hit Provisions early and then came out here to drink and swim under the sun. Hours and too many shots later, the very idea of climbing this rocky hill and walking home is exhausting.
Ashley pushes his hand away with a groan. “No more. I’m going to puke.”
“Fine.” He lifts the shot glass to his mouth.
“Haven’t dared you yet!” Kyle objects, waving an arm haphazardly in the air.
“Fine. I dare me to kiss Freckles.” Eric dives down to plant his mouth on hers, spilling half his tequila over the rocks in the process.
“That doesn’t count, jackass,” Kyle mutters, but he’s grinning, as am I, because Ashley hasn’t pushed him away. “Finally,” he murmurs, his stomach muscles tensing as he sits up, his hand gripping my head as I slide downward. “Let’s get this over with. I’m getting cold, too.”
We collect the empty bottles.
“Man, we drank a lot,” Kyle murmurs, chuckling and stumbling a touch. “Thanks, Piper, for bankrolling all this.”
“Whatever.” I didn’t even think; I just handed my card to him. I also filled his car up with gas and picked up our burger tab. It felt good to do that.
It takes three times as long to climb the rocky hill. Ashley and I are on our hands and knees, laughing, by the time we reach the top. “I just want to sleep now,” I moan, inspecting the scratches on my palms from the thorny branches and rocks. I’m going to feel them tomorrow.
Eric stumbles over to the edge of the cliff. “I can’t believe we only have one week left here.”
“Careful . . . You’re drunk,” Ashley warns. “I don’t want you falling off.”
Eric turns to grin at her. “Aw, you finally admitting that you care about me?”
“No.” She giggles, her cheeks flushing.
And then Eric leaps over the edge, his “Yahoo!” following all the way down to a splash.
“Shit!” Kyle rushes to the edge, stepping carefully as he peers over. “You crazy asshole!” he bellows.
“Jump!” Eric coaxes from below.
Ashley and I both sigh with relief.“So I can climb back up that hill? Hell no.”
“Lame!” comes the response.
“Remember, you’re a shitty swimmer. Just get back up here.” Kyle backs away from the edge, stumbling a touch. “This is going to take a while.” He more falls than sits on the boulder. “I drank too much.”
“We all drank too much.” I hunker down next to him. Ashley falls into him on the other side. We lean against one another while we wait.
“I think I’m going to pass out,” Ashley moans. “Or puke. One of the two. Or maybe both.”
“Hurry up, Vetter!” Kyle hollers.
Silence answers.
“Eric?”
Nothing.
“Fuck . . .” Kyle stumbles to his feet and heads for the rocky pathway down. “Hey! Eric!”
“I’m coming . . . I’m coming . . .” comes the answer between ragged breaths. “This was a really bad idea, wasn’t it?”
Kyle laughs. “Yeah, you’re full of bad ideas, asshole.” He watches with his arms folded over his chest, as his drunken best friend scales the treacherous path.
It’s another few moments before we spot Eric’s curly blond hair crest.
“Ugh. Finally. Can we go now?” Ashley pulls herself to her feet.
“Good things come to those who wait, Freckles.” Eric stands and grins, his arms outstretched, his chest heaving with his exertion.
He sways backward and stumbles to catch his balance.
And then he’s gone.
“Eric!” Kyle yells, scrambling for him.
“Kyle!” I choke out. Ashley and I rush toward the top of the path in time to see Eric tumbling head over heels, over and over, bouncing off the rocks. Kyle tries in vain to catch up, skidding and sliding down the path while somehow managing to stay on his feet.
Eric comes to a stop in a sprawled heap at the rocks on the bottom. Even in the dimming light and with my impaired vision, I can see his leg is bent all wrong. Crimson seeps out all over his skin.
He lets out a bloodcurdling scream.
“Eric!” Ashley cries out, looking ready to run for him, tears pouring from her eyes.
“No! Ash!” I grab her arm. I think I’m going to throw up.
Kyle is halfway down the hill, his eyes wild with panic as they flit between his friend on the rocks and us.
“What do we do, Kyle?” I cry.
“Uh . . . Okay. Go and get Darian now. Tell her Eric fell and we need an ambulance. Tell her where we are.”
I nod, grabbing Ashley’s arm.
I run as fast as I can.
Darian’s face is carved with worry as she marches toward us, the air ambulance climbing higher in the sky, two state troopers in conversation nearby, six counselors including Christa lingering near the trees, their expressions filled with horror and shock.
“Is he going to be okay?” Ashley manages through her sobs.
“Well, his leg and arm are definitely broken. That’s all we know right now. I’m sure it helped, having all that alcohol coursing through his veins,” Darian says.
I avert my gaze to my feet to avoid her glare. Regret weighs down on me. God, we are so stupid.
“What were you guys thinking, going out there?” she admonishes. “How much did you drink?”
I steal a glance to my left, to Kyle. His jaw tenses.
What will happen to him if the police find out that he used his brother’s ID to buy the booze?
“I know you’ve all been drinking. I can smell it on you. And there’s a pile of empty bottles lying here. Where did you get the alcohol? In town? Who bought it for you?”
Kyle bought it, but I paid for it all, on my credit card. There’s a record of it, and now Eric is badly hurt and there are cops hovering. What will happen to me?
I swallow my rising fear. “I’d like to call my father.” As much as I dread that conversation, if there’s a way out of this, he’ll know it. Plus, he’s going to find out anyway. About this, about Kyle . . .
Darian sighs. “That’s a very good idea, Piper. Let’s call all your parents. And you can pack your things while you wait for them to come and get you.”
“Is that him?” Kyle murmurs, his fingers laced within mine as we sit beside each other at a picnic table under the pavilion, watching headlights approach up Wawa’s long, winding road at one A.M.
“Yeah, I think so,” I manage to say around the painful lump in my throat. The belongings I arrived with are packed and sitting on the ground next to my feet.
“Mine should be here soon,” Ashley murmurs, her voice missing that usual spark.
Kyle’s mom said she’s not coming, that Kyle can drive himself home. Darian insisted that would be first thing tomorrow morning, when the alcohol has left his system.
I’m sober now. I think I’ve been sober since the state troopers questioned me about how Eric fell. Once they were convinced it was a drunken accident and not foul play, they lined us up and berated us for a half hour about how stupid and irresponsible we are, how no parent would want their child left in our care at this camp, and then handed us all our fines for underage drinking and left.
Dread takes hold of my insides and squeezes tight as the SUV comes to a stop beside the old green Pinto. I’m not sure which is worse—facing my father or saying goodbye to Kyle.
My father doesn’t wait for Eddie to open the door. He slides out from the backseat and, adjusting the collar of his button-down shirt, marches across the dimly lit lawn toward us, his face as stony as I’ve ever seen it, even from all the way over here.
Darian intercepts him on the way. I’m sure she’s filling him in on exactly why I’ve been fired. And whatever he’s saying to her, well . . . Darian seems to shrink back as my father speaks, looming over her tiny frame.
“Piper!” he bellows.
I climb to my feet and sway, not because of alcohol. “I guess this is it, then.” My voice cracks.
A sob escapes Ashley’s throat as she throws her arms around me.
My own eyes begin to water as I return the embrace.
“I had so much fun with you this summer.”
“Up until tonight.”
We share a weak laugh, though there’s nothing amusing about any of this.
“Keep in touch, okay?” she whispers.
“Of course.” Oddly enough, it’s the same thing Christa said when she thrust a piece of paper into my hand on my way out of our cabin, her email address scrawled across it in her perfect bubbly penmanship. Then she hugged me. I was shocked, to say the least.
Kyle is on his feet, my duffel bag in his hand.
I fight the tears but they win, streaming down my cheeks. After seeing Kyle every day for almost an entire summer, this is goodbye. For now. “You’ll call me, right?”
“Yes.” He reaches up to wipe a tear away with the pad of his thumb.
“I’m so sorry.” Not only has he lost his job, but that fine will eat into his savings.
He sighs. “What are you sorry about? This isn’t your fault.”
“Yeah, but . . . I’m still sorry.”
“Piper!” my dad calls again. He begins marching back toward the parking lot, expecting me to follow.
“Come on, I’ll walk you.” Kyle takes a step forward.
I hesitate. “There? To him?”
He shrugs. “What’s he going to do, hit me?”
I grab my sleeping bag and pillow, and together we trudge across the front lawn. How long ago it seems now, that early summer day when Mom dropped me off here, reluctant and bitter.
Now I would do anything to stay. Anything to see Eric running around—naked or otherwise. Anything to be curled up in bed next to Kyle right now, where I should be.
Why did we have to be so stupid?
Darian is waiting for us where she met my father. Her face is drawn and tight. “Piper, can I talk to you for a minute?” she asks. “Alone?”
Kyle unloads my sleeping bag from my arms and continues on, my anxiety rising with each step that he takes toward the SUV.
Darian hands me an envelope. “This covers your pay up until this morning.”
“Thanks.” My gaze falls to my running shoes. “I’m sorry.”
She sighs heavily. “No . . . I’m sorry. Kyle and Eric were always a handful. I was naïve enough to think I could handle them. I shouldn’t have allowed them back this year. Or I should have gotten rid of them after the first incident. If I had, Eric wouldn’t be lying in a hospital room.”
As much as I wish the same for Eric, I’m glad she let them come back—I can’t imagine not knowing Kyle, not having these memories—but I don’t voice that.
“Is he going to be okay?”
“I haven’t talked to his parents yet. They’re still on their way from Erie. It’s quite a drive. But he was conscious, which is a good sign.” Her eyes drift over to the parking lot. “Your father. He’s a tough one, isn’t he?”
“Especially when he’s angry.” And he is facing off with Kyle now. Oh God. “I should go—”
“I’m not that much older than you guys. I remember what it was like to be young and in love. You can’t think of anything else. Nothing else matters. It’s all-consuming.” She smiles sadly. “And it feels like a part of you dies when you’ve lost it, a part you’ll never get back. But you will.”
I frown, wondering what she’s getting at. I haven’t lost Kyle. Sure, we’ll be three hours away from each other, but we’ll make it work.
I’ll make it work.
“I really wish this had gone a different way, Piper. I’m . . . very disappointed. You are a good counselor. I would have liked to have seen you here again next year.”
“I would have liked to have come.”
“I hope, if nothing else, you’ve learned from this.” She hesitates, but then wraps her arms around me. “Take care of yourself. And make better choices. That could have been you tumbling down those rocks.”
With that, I rush toward Kyle and my father. By the time I reach them, Kyle’s face is ghostly white and pained.
“Let’s go,” my dad commands. “It’ll be almost four A.M. by the time we get home.”
“I need a few minutes—”
“Piper.”
“Just a few minutes!” My voice cracks as I bark back, setting my jaw with defiance, though I tack on a “Please.”
His lips are a thin line. “I’ll take those.” He holds his hands out, staring intently at Kyle.
Kyle hands him my things, which he promptly passes to Eddie.
“You have two minutes to say goodbye.” He climbs into the SUV.
I grasp Kyle’s hands. “What did he say to you?”
“Nothing I haven’t heard before.” Kyle smiles, but I know it’s forced.
“Here.” I reach into my back pocket and pull out the stack of paychecks. “I signed all of them over to you.”
He’s already shaking his head. “No, I can’t—”
“Take it! Please. I don’t need it and you just lost a week of pay. Plus, this way you can afford to call me and come visit.”
His jaw clenches as he gently pushes my hand away. “I can’t, Piper. Thank you, though.”
This is it. I throw my arms around Kyle’s neck, my eyes watering again, panic seizing my insides. “I don’t want to leave you,” I whisper.
His arms tighten around my waist, squeezing me.
I pull away, just enough to press my lips against his, ever conscious of my father’s gaze from the backseat.
Kyle hesitates at first, but then he’s the one deepening the kiss.
“I love you so much,” I whisper against his mouth, crying now.
He blinks away a sheen in his own eyes. “I love you, too, Piper. Always. Remember that.”
“You’ll call me tomorrow, as soon as you get home?”
His jaw grows taut and he swallows, his gaze flittering to the dark window, to the unseen face looming behind.
“Yeah. Here.” He slips off the leather bracelet from his wrist. “To remind you of me.”
“As if I could ever forget you.” I laugh through my tears. I search my body, coming up empty. “I wish I had something to give you.”
“I don’t need anything.” He smiles sadly and taps his temple. “It’s all up here.”
With one last kiss, he breaks free and begins walking away, his head hanging low.
Not until I’m seated and we’re rolling down the driveway, my thumb rubbing back and forth over the grain of the leather, do I get the eerie sense that that felt like a final goodbye.
I’m staring at the plate in front of me—at the massacred slice of toast, shredded to pieces, none of them eaten—when my father swoops into the kitchen, his navy suit looking fresh and crisp, coffee mug in hand. It’s Monday morning, at eleven. He should have been at work four hours ago.
“Your mother is on her way back from Paris. She’ll be home in a few hours,” he announces. It’s the first thing he’s said to me since the drive home from Wawa, early yesterday morning. After he told me I can forget about my car for a year, as well as my credit card.
“Did she sound upset that she and Aunt Jackie had to end their vacation early?”
“Is that who she told you she’s with?” Dad’s jaw tightens. “No. She and . . . Aunt Jackie know it’s time they came home.” His voice is dripping with bitterness.
“Have you been able to find out anything about Eric?” I ask, pleading in my voice. Ashley and I have been texting back and forth, but there’s no news between the two of us. I emailed Christa yesterday, to see if she’d heard. Being lead counselor, she has more access to the office computer than any other counselors there. Plus, she’s the only email address I have besides the Camp Wawa administrative in-box that I used for employment paperwork.
She has no news on him, either.
So, I asked my father yesterday if he could find something out. He always has his ways. He didn’t acknowledge my request with anything more than a glare.
Dad chugs the rest of his coffee and then sets the porcelain mug on the counter. “The boy’s leg and arm are badly broken and he hit his head a few times, but they’re saying he’ll pull through.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” I hesitate. “I’m sorry for lying to you.”
His jaw tenses. “I’m sorry, too, Piper. But I will always do what I know is best for you. Remember that.” With that, he’s gone.
Leaving me to stare at my phone, the agony unbearable.
Kyle hasn’t called.
Hasn’t messaged, hasn’t texted.
Christa said he left Wawa before anyone woke up on Sunday morning. And yet I haven’t heard from him. I keep thinking something horrible happened on his drive home. But when I call his number, it rings on and on. His family doesn’t know to call me, but, if something bad had happened, wouldn’t a family member answer his phone?
The calls go through; it hasn’t died yet, so it’s being charged.
So why isn’t he answering?
Why hasn’t he called?