Mount Horizon — The Lodge, Later That Night

The celebration had carried on — laughter spilling across the room, Kat’s cheeks pink from the attention, marshmallows roasting on long sticks. But the glow of the fire wasn’t warming you anymore.

Because a few minutes ago, in the hallway outside the kitchen, Scott had looked you dead in the eyes and said the words that still echoed like a bruise forming in your chest:

“Maybe I only used you to forget Shelby.”

It had been sharp, bitter, thrown like a weapon in the middle of an argument that spun too fast out of control. You didn’t even remember what started it — something small, something dumb. But you remembered how it ended.

And now, you sat on the far end of the couch, knees pulled up, arms folded tight. Staring at the fire like maybe if you focused hard enough, you wouldn’t feel the sting in your eyes.

Scott was across the room with the others, but he wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t joking with Auggie or nodding along to Kat’s story. His eyes kept drifting toward you — quick, guilty flashes he tried to cover up, but you saw them every time.

Finally, he stood, muttered something, and crossed the room. The others barely noticed.

He stopped in front of you, shifting awkwardly, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Can we… talk?”

You didn’t answer.

He let out a breath, crouching down until he was eye-level. The firelight flickered against his face, showing every crack in the mask he usually kept on.

“What I said… it was crap,” he admitted, voice low, rough. “I was mad, and I wanted to hurt you, and I picked the worst thing I could think of.”

Your jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the flames.

Scott swallowed, his voice quieter now. “But it’s not true. You know it’s not true.”

Finally, you turned to him, eyes shining with unshed tears. “Do I?”

That landed. His breath hitched, his shoulders sagged. He looked like a kid who just realized the damage he’d done and didn’t know how to fix it.

He reached out, hesitant, his hand brushing yours where it rested against your knee. “You’re not some stand-in for her. You’re… you’re the only person who makes me feel like I can actually be better than the guy I was before I got here.”

Silence hung heavy, broken only by the crack of the fire and the muffled laughter of your friends across the room.