Chapter 7

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I washed away the evidence of my tears and frustration in the bathroom, masking my anger with concealer and a hell of a lot of deep breaths. 

Now, two hours later, I'm sat in front of a raging fire, and I can't help but think about how much it mirrors how I feel right now. Each harsh flame seems to rise higher, threatening to burn someone if they stand too close. But then the heat is reduced to nothing more than tiny sparks, subduing itself before floating into the cool night air.

The warmth of the bonfire hits me full-force; I feel each scorching tendril lap at my skin. JJ and Blake are jostling one another on my right side, both constantly losing their balance on our makeshift log chairs and sliding off. Caleb and Fins are on my left, currently having a heated discussion over whether fireflies only come out when there's fire. And every now and then, when the flames shift or fall back in one sudden movement, I catch a glimpse of him. 

His eyes look like olives through the orange sheet between us, and they never seem to leave me. It's almost as if he's in a trance - intent on staring me out until I have to talk to him. Each second, his eyes stay focused on me, and each second, a new dose of anxiety trickles down my spine. 

Why is he staring? God, I can't stand it! He refuses to look away even when I glare at him. I can feel them on me even when the fire covers his figure. 

As I stare at the leafy floor, I make a decision before I explode from his gaze alone. Muttering something about firewood, I gather myself up and hurry into the trees, praying all the while that I don't get lost. Even just a few metres away, it's quieter. The night has take over now; there's a chill in the air that wasn't there before. As I step further away, their laughter and conversation slowly dies off, and is replaced by the strange comfort of crunchy leaves and the occasional hoot of an owl.

Leaning against a large tree, I breathe in, relieved to finally be by myself. I love people - well, most people - but I love being alone more. 

My face scrunches in frustration when I hear heavy footsteps approaching. 

"I was worried you would get lost."

I don't even need to register who it is. I know Caden's voice by now. Unfortunately for me. 

Sighing, I turn towards him before replying, "Well, I'm obviously not lost. So you can go now." It's more of an order than a suggestion, but I get the feeling he's going to stick around anyway. Idiot. 

Sure enough, he comes closer, stepping towards me until his back is against the same tree as mine. His arm rests on mine, the fibres of his jacket making the hair on my arms tingle. I wait for him to say something - because that's all he ever does - but all I can hear is his breath. In and out. Each exhale is heavy; the air he blows out blows past my hair. I can't be bothered to start an argument with him - I came here for peace and he seems to be giving me that for the moment.

I'm just starting to wonder whether we should head back when his voice ripples through the stillness encasing us, "I'm sorry." My brow furrows in confusion when the words register with me. That is the last thing I expected to hear. Especially from him.  I don't even know how to reply - this is literally a whole new side of him. But he speaks again before I get the chance - nothing's changed there I see. 

"I shouldn't have looked at that notebook. It wasn't mine to read. I invaded your privacy in a completely unacceptable way. I know that. I'm sorry, Meghan." as he speaks to me, he turns on his side to face me, his eyes finding mine before I can look away. 

Exhaling, I ask him, "Why did you do it? You could have left it, but you didn't. Why?"

He doesn't drop his gaze from mine once as he whispers, "I had to know."

Somehow, Caden has moved closer; his face is millimetres from me. His nose brushes against mine, and I feel his breath flow against my cheeks. I watch him as he rests his arm above my head, on the trunk of the tree, and as he shifts forward so that his torso pushes me back against the wood.  

My voice barely audible, I ask him, "What did you have to know, Caden?"

When I say his name, his eyes open wider and he leans his forehead against mine. His closeness fights something within me, and I can't find the frustration I had felt towards him moments ago. Waiting for his answer, I search his eyes, and all I see there is depth - of what, I don't know. 

"I had to know if what I thought was true - if.... if -"

And of course, that's the moment when Caleb's not-so-distant voice breaks through the trees, calling for us to get back and watch Blake throw sparks at JJ.

"Later", Caden promises, "we'll talk later."



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