Page 178

I’m starting to let Jaxon’s words sink in when there’s a sudden, frantic knock at the door. Not polite—a full-on someone’s-trying-to-alert-us-to-a-fire knock.
Jaxon’s eyes go wide. “God, please no.”
I sigh. “You let Fork Guy into the hotel, didn’t you?”
He shrugs, sheepish. “Couldn’t lose him in baggage claim. He’s like a homing pigeon.”
The knocking intensifies. “Cam! Baseball Boy! Open up! It’s urgent!”
I pad over in my robe and crack the door. Fork Guy stands there, dripping wet, plastic forks stuck in his hair like some deranged Poseidon. Next to him is a kid in swim trunks clutching a pool noodle and looking traumatized.
Fork Guy grins, completely unbothered. “Hey, do you guys wanna go swimming? The pool’s got heated jets, and Brody here’s teaching me how to cannonball. Also, he doesn’t know where his parents are, but it’s cool, we’re on an adventure.”
The kid gives a little wave. “He said he’d buy me a Fanta.”
Jaxon steps up behind me, rubbing his temples. “Why do you have a child?”
Fork Guy shrugs. “He was doing the worm by the vending machines. We vibe.”
I stare at Jaxon, and he stares back, both of us silently asking: Is this really happening? Apparently, it is.
Fork Guy bounces on his heels. “So, pool party? There’s a lifeguard who looks like she could bench press a bus, so we’re safe.”
Jaxon leans in, dropping his voice. “Should we call someone? Like, hotel security? Or, I don’t know, Brody’s actual parents?”
Fork Guy waves us off. “Oh, he’s got a room key. I’m not a kidnapper, jeez. Besides, he said his mom’s playing slots and she’s ‘bad at winning.’”
Brody nods solemnly, as if this explains everything.
I can’t help it—I burst out laughing, some of the tension finally letting go. Jaxon groans, but he’s grinning too.
Fork Guy perks up. “So, is that a yes? Or are you two gonna keep having your epic romance moment? Because Brody and I are about to dominate the pool float obstacle course.”
Jaxon sighs. “Go. Swim. Just… try not to get banned from the hotel.”
Fork Guy salutes with a fork. “You got it, Captain!” He turns to Brody. “Let’s roll, little dude!”
They disappear down the hallway, Fork Guy’s wet feet squeaking, Brody trailing with the weary resignation of a kid used to chaos.
I shut the door, still laughing, and Jaxon looks at me with raised brows. “That’s your fault, you know.”
I nudge him. “He’s your friend.”
He shakes his head, smiling for real now. “We are never naming our firstborn after him.”
I collapse onto the bed, the absurdity of it all making everything feel lighter.
After Fork Guy and his pint-sized sidekick leave, the room settles into something softer, quieter. Jaxon and I end up side by side on the bed, legs stretched out, the half-eaten ice cream between us. The TV murmurs in the background, tuned to something forgettable—white noise against the swirl of everything I wish I could say.
We talk about nothing for a while. The hotel’s weird wallpaper. Last week when Jameson set off the fire alarm microwaving a Pop-Tart. He tells me Fork Guy asked to be team mascot next year, and got no promises from the coaches.
Our conversation is easy, almost normal. Like before everything got complicated.
But then the laughter fades, and I feel that old ache twist inside—the one I’ve carried since the blog post, since Inez wrote my life out for everyone, since I lost control of my own story.
I’m quiet for a while, staring at the ceiling. He senses the shift, waits me out. Finally, I turn on my side, facing him, the sheets cool against my skin.
“Jaxon?”