Chapter 3

Lunch was at a little farm restaurant down at the foot of the mountain.

I sat in the corner, a red mark still wrapped around my wrist.

Mr. Fisher came over twice, asking if I wanted to leave early and head back to the city.

I shook my head.

My mom and I scraped together two months' worth of living expenses just to pay for this graduation trip.

She works as a hospital aide, on her feet for over ten hours a day. When she sent me the money, she said, "Ella, this is your last high school trip. If you want to go, just go. I don't want the situation hold you back."

It was never about the money.

It was about that bit of youth I was still trying to hang onto.

At lunch, everyone was picking their seats.

Lucas and Chloe were at the main table, packed with people all around them.

Then it was someone calling out, "Hey Ella, come sit with us! There's a spot open."

I was just about to stand up when Lucas glanced over at me, totally unfazed.

"Let her stay over there. Chloe can't handle the kitchen smells, so don't crowd her," he said.

The person fell silent, looking a bit embarrassed.

The pickled fish stew was brought out, steaming hot.

Chloe struggled to pick up the fish with her fork in hand, so Lucas carefully removed the bones for her.

He did it so smoothly, like he'd done it a hundred times before.

I just kept my head down, picking each single French fries.

My stomach had been empty for so long that those potato sticks felt like sandpaper going down.

The girl next to me whispered, "Ella, don't take it to heart. Lucas just acts tough, but he still cares about you."

Another girl jumped in, "But Chloe really does have low blood sugar. I saw her this morning, she looked so pale."

All that comfort mixed with digs just sounded extra ridiculous.

My phone buzzed.

It was Mom.

Mom: [Are you having fun, sweetie? Send me some pictures!]

I snapped a quick pic of the trees outside and sent it to her.

I edited: [I'm having so much fun! The mountains are gorgeous.]

After I finally hit the Send icon, I nearly dropped a tear right into my plate.

Lucas came over out of nowhere and stood by my table.

"Give me the camera," he said.

I looked up at him.

"What for?"

"Chloe was crying her eyes out just now. I want to snap a few group pics to cheer her up," Lucas said.

He sounded like it was just common sense.

I zipped my camera bag shut.

"No way."

The whole place went dead silent the next second.

Lucas stared at me like he couldn't believe what he'd just heard.

"What did you say?" he asked.

"I said no," I repeated.

Chloe followed me over, her eyes all puffy and red again.

"Let it go, Lucas. If Ella doesn't want to, just leave it be. Today's all on me anyway," she said softly.

The more understanding she was, the more I felt like the bad guy for making a fuss.

Lucas's expression turned icy.

"Ella, it's just a camera. Do you really have to embarrass me in front of everyone?" he snapped.

I spent my whole summer working just to afford that camera.

All so I could take pictures of him at his basketball games.

Senior year, during the school championship, he made the winning shot and the whole crowd went wild, chanting his name.

I was crammed in the crowd, clutching my camera so hard my hands were shaking.

He posted that photo on his feed with the caption: [My personal photographer.]

And it was also on that day, Chloe commented below that post: [I'm kinda jealous, someone's actually capturing your youth.]

Lucas replied to her: [Next time, I'll take your picture too.]

Well, it seemed that the "next time" moment came way too fast that I hadn't even wrapped my head around what it meant to be his "personal photographer."

"Lucas," I said.

I placed my fork on the table.

"Why should I let you use my stuff just to make someone else feel better?" I shot back.

He stared at me, his eyes cold as ice.

"Because you're my girlfriend," he said.

That line used to make my heart skip a beat.

Now, it just felt like a bad joke.

"Wow, you actually remember I'm your girlfriend?" I shot back.

It could be heard that someone sucked in a breath.

Chloe, looking pale, tugged at his sleeve.

"Lucas, let's not fight. I don't want any pictures," Chloe said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lucas didn't even look at her, and just stared straight at me.

"Ella, what's up with you today? You never acted like this before," he said.

Back then, I would've just handed him the camera, no questions asked.

And the moment he frowned, I'd rush to apologize.

I used to jump in and explain Chloe wasn't feeling well.

I'd bury all my hurt, just because he told me, 'Don't make a fuss.'

But I'm not made of stone. Getting ditched at a highway rest stop for two hours. That hurt, really.

Mr. Fisher stepped in to break the tension. "Alright, everyone, let's eat up. We've got rafting this afternoon."

Lucas reached for my camera bag, which was hanging on the back of my chair.

I was faster, grabbing it before he could.

In the scuffle, a small pill box spilled out of the bag.

The little white box rolled right to his feet.

Chloe bent down, picked it up, and murmured, "Motion sickness pills?"

She looked up at me, her face a little stunned.

"Ella, you get carsick too?" Chloe asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

I hadn't even answered yet when Lucas's brows knit together.

"You get carsick?" Lucas said, almost like he couldn't believe it.

He never even knew.

We'd been together for a whole year, and he never knew I got carsick, never knew I was allergic to tapioca pearls, and that I needed painkillers when my period hit.

But he knew all about Chloe: her low blood sugar, how she couldn't stand the smell of cooking oil, and how she loved strawberry candy.

I took the pill box back from Chloe.

"It doesn't matter," I said.

Lucas's expression shifted for a second.

But impatience took over just as fast.

"Why didn't you tell me you get carsick?" he snapped.

That blame hurt even more than him not knowing.

I slung the camera bag back over my shoulder.

"Would you have even listened if I told you?" I shot back.

Someone called from outside, telling everyone to gather.

Lucas pressed his lips together, looking like he was about to lose it.

Chloe gently tugged at his sleeve.

"Lucas, I'm feeling dizzy again," she said softly.

He immediately turned away from me and helped her out the door.

Just before leaving, he tossed out, "Don't wander off during rafting this afternoon. Nobody has time to look for you."

I watched him walk away, my fingers pressing into the edge of the pill box.

The plastic box was slightly deformed from my grip.