Chapter 15
Andrew's POV
It was as if the universe had heard my plea and, for once, was on my side. I found Henry near the back of our school's science lab building—a stroke of luck, honestly, since he had no business being here as a business major. He seemed to be talking to someone on the phone. I took a step forward, but then froze, unsure of what I'd even say to him. Instead, I took two steps backward, dragging my hands through my hair and pacing in circles, nerves buzzing.
I couldn't make out what he was saying on the phone, but that wasn't really my problem. My problem was how to approach Henry—how to open my mouth and not screw everything up. A thousand different thoughts raced through my mind. Do I just walk up to him and say "sorry"? Or what? I noticed him turning in my direction, and I immediately ducked behind a corner, hiding like a child. I'd only ever acted like this toward my dad, but this wasn't fear—this was shame. I couldn't stand the thought of seeing that broken, disappointed look in Henry's eyes again and knowing I was the one who put it there. I'd done it once before, back in the cave, and now, years later, I was doing it all over again. I laughed at myself, a bitter, self-deprecating sound. That caught Henry's attention; he turned and our eyes met.
"Henry," I called out, moving toward him almost against my will, every step robotic. I saw him end his call, telling whoever it was, "I'll call you back."
"How are you feeling?" I asked, trying to sound gentle as I approached.
He stopped me with a sharp, "Stop."
I froze, looking at him. He stared back, his eyes cold. "How am I doing? Yeah, I'm doing perfectly fine, thanks to you," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Look, I'm sorry for what I said in there," I blurted out. "I was confused and I spoke out of fear—fear that's been drilled into me since I was a kid."
"And how is that my concern?" he shot back. "Surely you don't expect someone who's 'crazy' to actually understand what you're saying, right?" He gave a bitter smile.
"No, you're not crazy. If anything, I'm the crazy one for saying those things."
"Oh, so I'm no longer mentally unstable?" he said, voice mocking.
"No, you're not. If anything, I'm mentally unstable, too—because I like you, a lot."
He scoffed. "Don't give me that bullshit. You don't insult someone you claim to love. You don't deny their very existence just to score points with your friends."
"I know I fucked up," I admitted, stepping closer.
"Stop. Don't come any closer," he warned. I stopped, hands open, showing him I'd listen.
"I'm sorry. Please, just let me explain why I did that. Give me a few minutes—let me explain, or at least try. I did the same thing to you after the night in the cave. I left you then too. I haven't changed—I'm still the same coward."
That made him pause. He looked at me for the first time, really looked. "So it's not the first time you're doing this to me, huh?"
"Just let me explain, please," I pleaded, desperate. "Let's sit down. I'll tell you everything. Start to finish."
He scoffed. "You don't have to tell me what to do." But he sat anyway, crossing his arms, defensive. "Why do you always get so defensive with me whenever we have an issue? I don't see you acting like that with others."
Henry's POV
Why do I always get defensive with him? It's like I have something to prove. The truth is, he's different. I always felt safer with him than anyone else, even Ethan. Maybe that's why I get so defensive—I don't want him to see me as weak, or easy. I want to be strong for him, even if it means putting up walls. And yet, here I am, getting softer just because he came looking for me. But that doesn't mean I'll forgive him easily.
"So, are we just going to sit here all day?" I finally said.
"Sorry," Andrew replied. "I was just trying to find the right words."
"Don't even think about lying to me," I warned. "Because I'll know."
"I won't," he promised. "No more lies. We had a blast in the cave that night. It's one of the best memories I have—still cherish it to this day."
He looked away, as if the memory physically hurt him. What he didn't know was that after our last talk, the dream in my head became clearer. I could remember bits of it now, and I still couldn't believe I'd done that with my bully after just one night together. After the sex, we washed up in the storm. Even though the water was cold, we had a fire, so it was fine. We slept. It was the morning before the bear attack that we had a fight.
"What fight?" I asked quickly, seeing him hesitate.
"Tell me everything, please." I grabbed his hand without thinking. He smiled, and something in my chest loosened.
"Don't worry. I was going to anyway. We woke up together, and it was the best night I'd ever had. But I felt shame, and I didn't know how to react. I was feeling things for you I'd never felt for anyone—not even the girls I tried to be with. And I was feeling all this for a boy. It was… overwhelming."
"Annoying?" I teased, raising an eyebrow.
He laughed awkwardly. "No—well, yes, but not really. It was just… overwhelming. And out of fear for what my dad would say, or do, I told you not to tell anyone, to forget whatever happened in there. That didn't sit well with you, and I don't blame you. I understand that feeling of being used. I have no excuse for acting like that. Then I stormed out of the cave. I didn't go straight back to camp. I wandered around, restless. My treatment of you bothered me so much. I actually turned around to go back and see you. That's when I saw you being attacked by the bear. I was confused, but I ran in anyway, trying to get its attention. I saw you on the ground, bleeding. I distracted the bear, drew it away from you. It attacked me, too—I got thrown by its paw. Then someone else showed up—something else caught the bear's attention and it left. I tried crawling to you, but I could barely move. Then I felt something hit me on the back of the head, and I blacked out. I still don't know what hit me."
My heart was racing. Ethan had always told me he was the one who distracted the bear, and that no one else had been there. So where was Andrew getting his story from?
"Look," Andrew said, pulling up his shirt to show a scar on his side. "See this?"
I stared at the thin, jagged scar. "Where did you get that?" I asked quietly, reaching out to touch it.
"When the bear hit me," he said, wincing at the memory. "I think its claws got me then."
My mind spun. Explosions went off in my head. Andrew was saying there was a third person, while Ethan had always insisted it was just him. I stared at Andrew, searching his face for any sign of a lie, but he looked back, steady and honest.
So who was lying to me—Andrew, or Ethan?