Because the Night

let's do this, all right?

By the end of their conversation, Diego's dad was excited about Lily, if a bit cautious.

"Are you sure she's ready for everything this process entails?" He asked, after Diego listed off everything he knew about Lily.

Which, to be fair, wasn't much. What he did know, though, he liked. She was kind enough to go on vacation with her mom. She was strong enough to stand up to Diego at his, well, Moodiest. And she was brave enough to dance with him, in front of the class, every day.

Then there was that other quality, which he didn't name while talking to his father. It's not the kind of thing you talk to your parents about. The way she replaced his sense of reason with Essence du Lily. So that instead of going about his day with a focus on his daily checklist of obligations, he was thinking of her. Where she was. If she was enjoying her day. If the girls in the cabin have gnawed her alive yet with their games. If he would ever gnaw her alive with his games—then he'd get distracted coming up with ideas for said games, all of which involved taking off a certain amount of clothing.

You see.

It was getting untenable, the wall he'd put up between them.

After that conversation with his dad, he was ready to take it down—if she'd let him. "She's ready," he said. "She told me so."

Now, he had to see if that white lie he'd just told his dad was, indeed, true. It was 4 p.m., so he knew where she'd be. He had developed her schedule with Jocelyn, the employee coordinator. It's not creepy that he memorized it, too. He had a good memory, all right?

Through the window, he could see her bending over and standing up straight, over and over. Her hands were raised over her head, as if in a ballerina song. The kids were gathered around her and jumping. They so obviously adored her.

Lily's afternoon session was supposed to end at 3:45. What was she still doing teaching? Diego walked up the hill to the cabin door, where had an admittedly better view of her dancing around. He liked watching her when he wasn't performing. For him. When she was just being herself.

Was he that much of a monster?

Before he found himself in yet another self-conscious spiral, Diego made eye contact with Lily's co-teacher, Paul. "What?" Paul mouthed. Diego pointed at Lily. Paul tapped her shoulder, and broke her concentration. In an instant, Diego could see the effect he had on her. She suddenly looked scared. No, alert. Aware of someone watching her. Someone wanting her.

"Lily, this is Diego. His family–" Paul said, about two months behind in the progression of their relationship. Dear, sweet Paul, Diego thought. You are a perpetual camp counselor.

"I know who he is. The question is: What is he doing here?" Lily asked, half-smiling. She looked like someone who had set a trap, walked away, and waited for it to work.

"Can I talk to you for a second, Lily?"

The kids all made gooey faces, accompanied by "oohs and aahs." They could obviously see what Lily and Diego pretended not to: The aura of stifling, firey, whatever it is that orbited around them.

Before leaving with the tall, glowering man in the doorway, Lily made sure Paul was comfortable with her abandoning him with 12 eager kids, whose hands still needed to be cleansed of their finger-paint. "As long as Brian here doesn't smear paint all over my shorts. Hear that, Brian? Last time, it took me an hour of scrubbing to get them out!" Paul said.

Diego chimed in. "You know, Paul, we do have laundry service available for employees," he said, before Lily kicked his ankle and got him out of there.