First There Was You

Chapter 10: Greyson

June 18

Loon Call Island, Lake Rosseau, Muskoka

Sweat trickles down my forehead as I swing the ax down on the log in front of me. I've been chopping wood for hours, trying to burn off the restless energy coursing through me.

Thunk! The log splits cleanly in two, the ax blade embedding itself into the stump beneath it.

I place my booted foot on the stump and twist my ax out from where it's stuck. My arms, shoulders, and back are screaming from exhaustion.

My parents left for the city two days ago, and I have no idea when they'll be back up. I normally hang at Ry's, but his family was having some fancy dinner tonight, and I didn't want to be anywhere near it, even though I knew I was welcome.

Thunk! The impact vibrates through me.

The sky is a dark red as the sun sets, and I take a moment to drink it in, to catch my breath. Every summer I come here, the more I dread returning to the city in September. I'm the worst version of myself in the city, surrounded by imposters at school, cooped up in class. My only consolation in the past was that I'd still see Elle there, too. Especially once she started at Beaton.

Then I'd gone and tangled all that up.

Even before we changed the dynamic of our relationship, she was the brightest part of my life, the purest, sweetest part. The whole group gives me some measure of happiness; they accept me as I am, but I can still see their worried looks, hear their whispered concerns, sometimes.

It was always with Elle that I felt most at peace, most accepted, most loved. Her friendship and love came with no strings, no quid pro quo. They were there, ever present, and steady.

Four days have come and gone since I last saw Elle, or even had the chance to see her. I really hope that I'll get to talk to her before we start work on Monday.

I just need one thing to go my way.

I pick up the ax again and start swinging, determined to clear the pile of logs by the shed. While I chop, I let my mind wander.

Ry's mom, Jill, is driving us down to see Liam tomorrow, so my only chances to speak with Elle are either tonight, or tomorrow night, but I don't know what condition I'll be in when I get back.

As much as I need to see Liam, to spend time with him, to cherish those moments and support him, I dread every visit, knowing what I'll see. I'll see my friend deteriorating.

I spend each car ride imagining what he'll look like, what he'll feel like, I wonder if this visit will be the day we get good news, or if we'll get more bad news.

Every visit makes me ill, but I'll never miss one. I might be an asshole, but I'll never let Liam down.

Looking down at the small scar on my palm, just below my thumb, I smile. Liam has a matching one.

We went on our first camping trip together when we were eight. Sure, it was only in the woods behind my cottage, but we brought food, water, enough to last us two nights.

Liam swiped some skin mags from his cousin and we'd eaten Twinkies, Twizzlers, hot dogs, and marshmallows, chased down by rootbeer until our stomachs hurt.

That night, Liam asked me if I wanted to be real brothers. I remember laughing at him. Even I knew that was impossible. But he'd been insistent. We could be blood brothers if I wanted to.

The look in his eyes told me how much he wanted it. He was an only child, always lonely. I think it's part of the reason we got along so well. He was always lonely, so even my sorry ass was an improvement. He was content to have a partner in crime.