We move around the front to the side, and there, as promised, is the carved out opening. The door to The Confession Tree.
“What time is it?” I ask, looking over to see Elliot staring down at one of the larger exposed roots.
He glances at his phone. “It’s just about 10.”
“Perfect. Who wants to go first?” I ask, knowing that no matter who answers, I’ll have the final say. My mind is racing and every nerve is on edge. This is it.
“I’ll go first with Cline,” September offers. Her smile is sly, and my hands begin to sweat, wondering what she has to say, but glad that he’s going to have something sweet to remember about this night if I end up ruining everything.
“Cool. Head in,” I say and point to the entrance. We’ve gone over what the tree is for. The rules have been established. Once they’ve disappeared, I step away so that I can’t hear what’s going on. I need to focus anyway. Plus, what they say is none of my business.
Elliot sounds so far away, but when I turn to find him, he’s barely a foot to my right.
“What did you say?” I ask.
His eyes are gazing upward at the moon, and his jaw is set before he speaks again so I can hear. “Are we going in? The two of us, I mean. Did you decide you had something to confess to me?”
“I said we were going in if you had something to say to me.”
A small smile plays along his lips and he nods. “Then I guess we’re next.”
If time could stand still, it does in those minutes that we are outside the tree, and yet, once the other two emerge and it’s time for me to go inside with Elliot, I’m suddenly feeling like I need more of it. There’s a glow about September, and Cline’s smile is a mile wide, but I’m being weighted down more by the second, even as we move through the door and stand inside the dilapidated tree to face one another, toe to toe.
My heart is beating so fast, but I force myself to look up at Elliot’s face as it tilts down to mine. His shoulders look so broad all of a sudden in this intimate space. I study the curve of his nose, the thickness of his lips, those moles on the side of his face. Then I close my eyes and take in the deepest breath I can gather.
“I didn’t bring you on this trip so I could use your story for my game.” His confession comes rushing out faster than my brain can keep up with it.
Eyes open again, I am staring up at him, calm as can be, his truth spoken in the air between us. I’m a little shaken by his words.
“Yes, you did. Why else would you do it?” I ask.
He shrugs, those shoulders rising upward while he shoves his hands in his pockets. “My dad did a bunch of great things while he was alive. I haven’t done anything. I think, in the moment, I figured that by helping you find out about your mom, it would be me doing a good thing for someone else. But if I told you that, you wouldn’t have accepted it. I wanted to do a selfless thing, I guess.”
“And?” I ask, my throat constricted. I want to be grateful. I want to be mad. I want to be so many things, but looking at his face, all I am is scared.
His mouth pulls up on one side. “It wasn't selfless at all. Because I got to be with you. I got to know you … and that was unexpected.”
I nod and clear my throat. “So, I’m out of the game, then? No unicorn?”
He laughs, and the sound cracks the tension in my chest. His fingers brush my hair away from my right shoulder and he sighs. “I’ll try to fit it in.”
“Good. I was really banking on having an action figure and stuff.” I smile up at him when his thumb traces my cheek, and I close my eyes under his touch. One step forward and I’m close enough to grasp onto his belt loops, anchoring our bodies even closer. I rest my forehead against his chest for a second, letting his fingers move across my neck before I speak again.
“You know how I said I wasn’t going to ask you for that next kiss?”
“Yeah,” His voice rumbles through his sternum, and I look up with a smile.
“I didn’t need to ask. I’ve already kissed you before. That girl with the pink hair at the bar … the one you told me about with the bad pick-up line about not being able to feel her lips? That was me. In a wig … obviously.”
His whole body relaxes and he looks up at the sky, blowing out a huge breath. “Oh, thank God.”
“What?” I’m laughing at his reaction.
He steps into me and wraps me in his arms, his face hovering above my own as we hold eye contact. “Now I don’t have to feel bad about fantasizing about two separate girls. You’re the same. This makes things so much easier.”
I press a finger to his lips and ask quietly, “You fantasize about me?”