He shakes his head and smooths my hair. ‘You’ve done a lot of stupid shit, but it’s not all about you, you know.’
‘What?’ I say, utterly confused. ‘I’m having a fucking . . . thing –’ I search for the right word and find it – ‘epiphany about how my self-absorption is the root of all the evil in my life. I know it’s not all about me! That’s my point!’
He smiles indulgently and nods. ‘OK. So right about now, you should be realizing that you didn’t actually kill anyone.’
‘Rachel killed herself because of me,’ I argue.
‘She killed herself. Period. When someone wants to die, they will find a way to do it.’ His voice roughens with anger. ‘And they’ll drag down anyone they can with them.’
He turns sharply to the side, draws his bow, and looses an arrow into the ferns.
‘Huh. Look at that. No baby deer this time.’ He retrieves the arrow and strides back to me. His cheeks are flushed, and his thick chest is swelling with skipping breaths. ‘Not everything in the world is set up to teach you a lesson.’ He laughs through his frustration. ‘And as powerful as you are – and I know you are a terrifying force of nature – you aren’t powerful enough to be responsible for everything that happens around you. Sometimes things are completely out of your control. So, no. It’s not your fault.’
But he wasn’t there. He doesn’t understand. ‘I heard a noise in the undergrowth, and I shot at it,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘I knew something was there.’
Faster than I can see, he raises his hand and snaps his fingers next to my ear. My head flicks towards the sound.
‘Reflex,’ he says gently. ‘It’s a prey response. Humans turn towards unexpected or threatening sounds and go into fight-or-flight mode. Our species used to be hunted by everything that was in the undergrowth.’ He smiles at me, watching my face as I think. ‘You let the arrow go on instinct. Self-defence is actually a better way of defining it. Some people freeze, and some people shoot. You’re a shooter. It’s not bad or good; it’s how you’re wired.’
I feel something in me uncoil.
No. I can’t let myself off the hook that easily. Bo wants to see a better person than is actually here in front of him, so he does.
But that’s not really it. He’s not making excuses for me. He knows I’m broken, but he also believes I’m getting better. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but his faith in me is so strong, it makes me become that better person he sees.
It’s not the same as it is with my grandparents or my father. They only see what they want to see. Bo sees all of me – good and bad. He’s not insisting I’m something I’m not. He’s not shutting his eyes or walking away from me when I force him to open them.
Bo sees the good person I could be if only I had someone who could accept the bad first. I couldn’t love him more for that. And as soon as the words run through my head, I realize they’re true.
‘I love you,’ I say. And it isn’t hard. It’s not forced or awkward. I laugh, but it’s a joyous laugh, not a bitter or sarcastic one. I laugh because I feel like sunshine inside. ‘I really love you,’ I say.
‘I love you too,’ he says, but his face is sad, and his eyes darken.
I take a step back from him. ‘That wasn’t very convincing, Bo.’
He captures one of my arms and pulls me towards him. ‘I know exactly what I’m feeling, and I know I’ll never feel it again. And the summer is half over.’
There are so many times I look at Bo and think of him as younger than me because he’s less experienced in worldly things. But in this, in love, I know I’m less experienced than him. I don’t know if I’ve ever fully loved anyone, including myself, and Bo has spent his whole life surrounded by it.
Benching, ghosting, breadcrumbing – I’m a master at all of these tactics, but I don’t know shit about love. And here he is, out in the middle of the woods, trying to find food for his family because he loves them. And he’d sweat and struggle and even kill to feed them.
My mom once asked me to go ten blocks out of my way to Zabar’s deli to pick up some bagels, lox, and cream cheese crazy early in the morning because she had a craving, and I did it. That’s about the biggest favour I ever did for her. The biggest favour she ever did for me was to hire a really sweet nanny.
OK, scratch that. I completely loved my nanny. I called her La-La because she was always singing, and I couldn’t pronounce her name anyway. She was an angel to me, and my mom fired her out of jealousy. That’s what I know of love.
‘What happens at the end of summer?’ I ask.
He looks like he’s going to cry. ‘I have to go to school.’
‘Have to?’ I ask. It’s like I’m shrinking. My voice, my body, it’s all ravelling in.
He nods and swallows. ‘It’s the deal. I leave the woods and go to school or my mom will turn herself in. She won’t let me stay. I told you.’
I feel my face twisting into a snarl, and then the anger disappears. Of course Maeve would do that. She loves her son, and she won’t let him ruin his life for anyone. Not for her, not for me. She’s kicking him out of the nest in a month and a half. That’s all I have left of Bo.
‘Your mom’s absolutely right,’ I say in a flat voice. ‘You’re getting out of here. You’re brilliant and beautiful, and you’re going to add so much to the world.’
He kisses me. Even if I won’t have him for much longer, knowing him at all is the real miracle.