Fall With Me(25)
Author: Bella Forrest

“Well, that’s good.”

“You kind of scared me for a minute back there, you know.”

“I was out for like half a second.”

“It was a little longer than that.”

I groan. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s embarrassing. In front of all the campers.”

“Don’t be embarrassed. It could’ve happened to anyone.”

“I didn’t see you losing your footing and knocking yourself out.”

“Not this time, but . . . trust me, sweetheart, I’ve done some legitimately embarrassing things in my time, half of which I can’t even remember.”

“Well, thanks for helping. And for offering to carry me back.”

“I wish you would’ve let me.”

“And relinquish my last shred of dignity? I don’t think so.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with helping someone out. You helped me out, right? That’s what friends are for.”

“I didn’t realize you considered me a friend. I have been kind of awful to you.”

He smiles and pats my arm. His hand is warm, and my skin tingles slightly where he’s touching me.

“I won’t hold it against you,” he says. “Girls are usually pretty nice to me, so finding one who wasn’t was actually somewhat refreshing. Rest up, sweetheart. I’ll come back and check on you in a little while.”

I watch him leave. He pauses at the doorway and glances back and smiles, and I can’t help but return the gesture.

Chapter 17: Griffin

There’s a large wall calendar hanging on the tack room door in the barn, and after I come back from putting the last two horses out to pasture, I stop and study the dates. It’s almost the end of June; I don’t know when camp is officially over, but at some point I’ll need to figure out what my next move is going to be.

It’s almost a little strange, the effect that being here has had on me. In a way, I feel like a different person. The old Griffin probably wouldn’t have even stayed here past the first few days, would’ve flown back to New York, regrouped, and headed off on another adventure. Maybe somewhere a little more relaxing than Thailand, say, the Shetland Islands or Ishigaki. But this new Griffin, he’s thinking of something different. As I stand there and stare at the white boxes and black numbers, I realize that I’d like to actually go out and work. Live a normal life. I don’t want to be the international party boy anymore, living off my dad’s dime. Though it isn’t a lot, what Bill and Lorrie are paying me is the first money I have ever received in return for my efforts. And there is satisfaction in that, and a sense of accomplishment, even though if what I’m accomplishing doesn’t amount to much more than hanging out with some kids and feeding horses hay.

“I didn’t realize we had such a riveting wall calendar.”

Jill comes up and stands next to me. She’s got a few shavings stuck in her hair, and I reach over and pick them out. I’m not sure what did it, but things with Jill have definitely been going better. Better than better, even. Maybe knocking herself out on the hike actually did her some good.

I look back at the calendar. “Yeah, the squares are so symmetrical. I’ve never seen a calendar with such symmetrical squares. I’m actually just trying to figure out what my plan is going to be once things wrap up here. That’s in what, August?”

“Yeah. Kind of hard to believe it’s almost July.”

“July is one of my favorite months.”

“Is it?”

“It is. Good things always seem to happen for me in July.”

“My birthday’s in July.”

“Well, there’s even more reason, then. When?”

“July second. Though the older I get, the less I look forward to it.”

“Why? Birthdays are always fun; it doesn’t matter how old you are. And you, sweetheart, are not that old.”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess good things have never really happened for me on my birthday. Or in the whole month of July, for that matter.”

“Well, why don’t you let me take you out?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t have to; I want to. I will even write the date down so I don’t forget it.” I rip a corner from the calendar and use the pen that’s hanging from a piece of twine. Take Jill out. Friday, 7/2. Something about the date seems familiar, though probably it’s the birthday of some other girl I once knew. I show her what I’ve written and then fold the paper and tuck it into the pocket of my jeans. “So.” I look up. “Where should we go? Or would you prefer I plan the whole thing?”

“Well, I hate to disappoint you,” she says, “but I’ve already got birthday plans. I’m going to do dinner at my mom’s house, and maybe watch a movie, and then come back here and go to sleep.”

“Dinner and movie with Mom sounds nice; the rest sounds terribly boring. Maybe you hate your birthday so much because you haven’t done anything fun.”

“That’s an excellent theory, but unfortunately I’m not going to change my plans. Why don’t you tell me about your plans.”

“What? For your birthday?”

“No, for what you’re going to do after camp.”

“Oh. Well, I haven’t gotten that far yet. I have no idea, really. But you want to know something, Jill? Just being here at the ranch, and getting to do all the things I’ve been doing—this might sound kind of silly, so don’t laugh—but it’s like it’s opened my eyes to other possibilities, other things I could be doing with my life than just being some rich man’s son. ‘Cause that’s great and everything for a while, but I want to do something different. I want to work. Doing what, I don’t know, but I just don’t want to waste any more time being a waste, spending someone else’s money. It’s actually a very, very nice feeling to earn your own money.”

She smiles. “It is, isn’t it? My uncle is pretty well off, and he’s been helping pay for my mother’s medical expenses, and I think he’d probably be willing to just pay for everything, if we let him, but I just couldn’t be okay with him doing that. Not that I don’t appreciate what he’s done, but I’ve never wanted to take money that I didn’t earn. Something my dad taught me, actually. He had a really great work ethic.”