I see her at my side, then we both glance behind us. The Moretti brothers are following. Our bodyguards. They keep their distance to give us the illusion of privacy.
As a gust of cold morning wind blows through, Jane rolls down the sleeves of her chunky, pastel pink sweater. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I twist my hair up in a messy bun. Part of me wants to just explode and tell Jane every fucking thing, but I can’t. I can’t. And even mentioning the bits and pieces I can say feels like sharing a lie more than a half-truth. “Maybe later?” I tell her.
She nods, understanding.
Her understanding hurts more than it should. Jane gives me a consoling side-hug. “If it makes you feel any better, even if Akara doesn’t feel that way, I have a very strong suspicion that Banks does.”
I dead-stop in place a few feet from the outdoor bathroom stalls. “Wait, are you saying you think Banks likes me?”
“Oui,” she smiles brightly.
I’m not caught off guard that she knows. Just… “You’d be okay with that? Him liking me? And me liking him?”
Jane begins to frown. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know…is it fucking strange for you?” I slip on my jean jacket that I tied around my waist. “Banks is Thatcher’s brother, and you’re marrying Thatcher.”
“That wouldn’t bother me. You realize that your mom and Moffy’s mom are sisters and your dads are brothers too?” A pair of sisters married a pair of brothers.
I smile more and elbow her hip. “You’re always reminding me of that.”
“It’s easy to forget,” she says. “No one holds it against you, and if they do, I doubt they’re our friends in the first place.” She hooks her arm with mine, and we continue our stroll.
For a bit, we chat about her upcoming bachelorette party and our siblings. But I still can’t get over how Jane is Team Banks.
Like I’m Elena fucking Gilbert and there are teams in this love triangle.
Oh God.
It’s not like Jane has all the information. She literally thinks Akara has permanently friend-zoned me. In her mind, Team Akara doesn’t exist.
When I find a good spot for cell reception near the “information center”—which really is just a corkboard with laminated fire-safety graphics and trail maps—Jane hugs me goodbye, letting me call my sister. But as she leaves and Banks comes closer, I wait to dial Winona’s number.
He stuffs his hands into his blue cargo jacket. “You okay?”
I want to nod, but I shake my head over and over. That’s all she is to me. “Maybe I’m too sensitive. I know he wasn’t trying to be cruel.”
“You’re not too sensitive,” Banks reassures. “Akara knows he was an ass. He shouldn’t have said that. Even if it was a lie.”
We draw closer. “But why am I taking it to heart if I know it’s a lie? I shouldn’t care.”
“You care because you love him, Sulli.” Banks looks more torn up as he says those words. “Love hurts. It’s just a fuckin’ fact. ”
My throat swells closed. “You’ve been in love before?”
“Once.” He stares past me, just sweeping the morning campers who awake from their RVs.
Why does that hurt—knowing he’s loved someone else before? I should be happy about his good experience, considering he’s had a bunch of terrible firsts. At least he fell in love once. I nod a few times, and as his gaze returns to me, we move in closer.
He nods his head towards the corkboard. I follow him around the board, which conceals us from campers.
And his arms instantly wrap around my shoulders. I cocoon myself in his cargo jacket and bury my face in his collar. When I felt hurt, why was my first instinct to run straight to him?
I keep these questions to myself. Because I know their answers.
I’m falling hard for Banks.
He sways with me like we’re slow dancing.
I smile at him. “I bet you were a total Casanova in high school. Three, four girlfriends that just fucking adored you.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Ten girlfriends?”
He laughs. “Wrong direction, mermaid.”
“A high school sweetheart, then?”
Banks shakes his head. “Just a whole lot of casual sex and no relationships.” He wears a crooked smile at a thought. “I’m about as good at dating as I am in a three-legged sack race.” He stares down at me. “Which is to say I fall flat on my fucking face. Akara is the one with relationship experience, if that’s what you’re looking for.”
“No…I really hadn’t considered that as a factor in…” Choosing. I can’t even say the fucking word. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that it wouldn’t bother me either way. It’s not like I have any experience either.”
Banks lets out a soft laugh. “Thanks, mermaid, but I’m twenty-nine. You have eight more years to run past where I am, and you’d think I’d learn to have a stable relationship before now. Something better than my parents had.”