Chapter 8
Dex
Half the crew is already there when we arrive at the station, and there are whoops and wolf-whistles when they see me and Korren holding hands.
He drops my hand at once and puts as much distance as possible between the two of us, while I’m surrounded by the rest of the crew, many of whom are patting me on the back.
“So, are you two a couple now?” Garret teases.
“No way,” I say with a laugh. “What about you and Ambrose? You were really going for it last night.”
He and Ambrose both fall over themselves laughing.
“We did the thing where you slide a hand up the other guy’s leg until it’s too awkward, and I touched Ambrose’s dick—on accident!
” he roars over a renewed round of laughter.
“And he punched me so hard I thought I’d crack a rib. So that’s the end of that.”
“What about you?” Ambrose asks. “How far did you go last night?”
Garret leans close. “Was there any…nudity?”
“No way. I gave Korren a ride home, we both passed out in our respective houses, and we didn’t see each other again until I dared him to hold my hand this morning.”
“That’s fucking weak, man,” Garret says. “You’ve gotta do something more extreme if you want to win.”
I lower my voice. “Problem is, we’re both really committed to winning that cabin. And I get the feeling Korren has more at stake than me. So I’m planning to wear him down with obnoxious little things before he ropes me into doing something I don’t want to.”
“I bet he’s gay,” Ambrose says under his breath.
I give him a cold look. “Don’t say things like that. He’s just as straight as I am, and he’s new here, so it’s not fair to make assumptions about him based on this dumb-ass challenge.”
“Woah, Dex, I was only joking!”
I realize I’m genuinely alarming Ambrose, so I tone it down. Laid-back. Friendly. That’s who I’m supposed to be.
Uncle Rhodes saves us when he arrives with bagels and cream cheese, and we all descend on the breakfast, Korren eating like he hasn’t had a solid meal in days. Which is quite possibly true.
As we eat, Uncle Rhodes says, “For anyone who wasn’t here for our last break between fires, I’m going to make it very clear that these aren’t actual rest days.
We’ve got to be in peak condition when we respond to the next fire, so we use this time for strength training and brushing up on our wilderness skills.
” He’s looking at Korren, but his reminder applies to me too.
I got here less than a week before the fire we just returned from, so I’m just as raw as he is.
Except part of the deal is that Uncle Rhodes is pretending I’ve got some training behind me so he can justify putting me on the team when he did.
The rest of the guys all got here a month before me and took part in what sounded like a brutally intense boot camp to get them up to speed, while Korren is supposedly already a career firefighter and doesn’t need the same degree of upskilling. I’m still not convinced that’s true.
Once the bagels are devoured and the last of the crew has arrived, we move to the mini-gym at the back of the fire station and get into strength training for the rest of the morning.
We do weights and endurance and trust exercises and everything Uncle Rhodes can think of, and I’m dying before the end of the first hour.
Some of the guys strip off their shirts as they exercise, and the whole gym reeks of sweat.
Despite his lean frame, Korren keeps up with no problem—when he’s lifting weights, I can see the outline of his biceps through his shirt, and I realize he’s got more muscle than I’d thought.
Which leaves me as the only one struggling to keep up with the rest. I’m solidly built, so I look like I should be stronger than half the team, but a lot of that came from helping my dad with his building job before I started studying.
Sporadic visits to the gym in college weren’t enough to keep up that level of fitness.
But I’ve got an image to uphold. I know I told Korren I don’t care about my reputation, but among these guys, it’s everything.
I knew a few of them growing up, including Cami and Ambrose, but the others only moved here for the summer, so they don’t know anything about my past or my lack of training.
Just that I’m friendly and like joking around.
By the time we break for lunch, I’m feeling broken. Uncle Rhodes didn’t push us this hard when I first started, probably because we were on standby for that other fire, and I’m about to collapse into a puddle of jelly on the floor.
As soon as I’ve helped myself to a sandwich, I drop onto a folding chair and joke around with the guys, pretending every muscle in my body doesn’t feel like it’s just been tortured.
I’m keeping half an eye on Korren, too, who is lurking in the background with his food.
Cami makes an attempt to draw him into conversation, but he gives curt answers, and soon she gives up.
Then we’re trudging outside to the overgrown field surrounded by forest behind the fire station, where we practice digging trenches, navigating through the forest, and playing out a whole bunch of imaginary scenarios that require everything from first aid skills to knowing when to abandon what we’re doing and hide in our fire shelters, which look like cocoons made from aluminum foil.
By the end of the day, I’m so wrecked that I could lie down and sleep right in the middle of the field.
The crew disperses for dinner, and I notice that Korren slips away before I can talk him into holding my hand on the walk home.
It’s probably better this way. I’m too tired to keep up the friendly banter much longer.
I just wish I had a girlfriend back at home, someone who could sit outside and drink beer with me, who I could complain to without worrying about anyone realizing I’m a total fraud.
I try my best not to limp on the walk home, but I can tell I look like I’ve got a stick up my ass, so I avoid eye contact with everyone on the street. Luckily it’s that time of year when we’re flooded with tourists, which means 99 percent of the people in Copper Creek right now are strangers.
I’m nearly to the turnoff to my uncle’s house when I remember that there’s a houseful of kids waiting for me there.
Plus Aunt Linda, who is the town sheriff.
She’s acted polite enough since I got back, but she knows what I did and I can tell she thinks I got off way too lightly.
She’d lock me up herself if Uncle Rhodes would let her.
Shit. It’s still too early for dinner, and I have nowhere else to be.
I dig out my wallet and find a crumpled twenty.
I’ve got a couple hundred dollars left, but that’s it.
My account is drained. That was one of the conditions my dad set when he paid the fine after I was arrested—he emptied and closed the account I had under his name and basically said he wants nothing more to do with me.
While I’m moping about how I’m ever going to dig myself out of this hole when Uncle Rhodes isn’t paying me anything for the first few months, I remember that Korren doesn’t even have enough to wash his clothes.
Even though he’s cagy about whatever happened to him, I gather he’s been living rough for a while.
And he probably isn’t a criminal, so he doesn’t deserve the shit he’s going through.
Before I think it through, I realize my feet are carrying me to the used clothing shop at the back of town. It’s a dingy place off the main street, and I know it well because I found most of what I’m currently wearing there.
The bell over the door tinkles as I let myself in, and the owner greets me by name. I don’t know Korren’s size or what he likes to wear, so I choose a flannel shirt and a pair of lightweight beige hiking pants at random. At least they’ll be suited to the work we’re doing.
“You’re back from the fire, then?” the owner asks as he counts out change.
“Yep.”
“How close did you get to the flames?”
“Not too close on this one,” I say, bundling the clothes under my arm. “It wasn’t the most exciting job, to be honest.”
“Maybe next time.”
I muster up a smile for the owner, who seems to be struck by the same awe for wildlands firefighters that I felt when I first joined the crew.
On the way back, I grab a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and a few packs of instant noodles from the supermarket. I know it’s not much, but it’s all I can afford.
By the time I reach Uncle Rhodes’ place, there are delicious smells wafting out the kitchen window, and I can hear the kids arguing inside.
I don’t want to embarrass Korren when he’s made it clear he doesn’t want sympathy, so I leave everything on the ground outside the campervan without knocking. It doesn’t look like he’s in anyway.
Then I trudge morosely toward Uncle Rhodes’ house, bracing myself for the storm inside.