Chapter 21 Charlie
CHARLIE
A new family moved to town today. There’s a girl my age, and she has three older brothers.
They’re all anyone can talk about. I’ve heard that they’re orphans.
That they’re secretly rich. That they are all models.
That they escaped a cult. That they are spies from the CIA.
Someone even started a rumor that they have superpowers.
(It was my mom. She started that rumor to be ridiculous.
Didn’t expect it to catch on.) I’m going to go investigate. The model claim has me intrigued.
Dark clouds rolled in the distance, and I shivered with anticipation as we took a boat toward a drop location.
Bennett tugged me closer to him, our life vests an awkward buffer as we sped across one of the biggest lakes in northern Canada.
It was so big, it was easy to forget we weren’t still on the ocean.
“Are you ready for this?” he said, close to my ear so I could hear him over the boat’s engine.
“It’s too late if I wasn’t.” I motioned toward the open water around us.
He threw his head back and laughed, and my attention got caught on the long lines of his neck and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed. Bennett was in his element out here—open air, sea spray and wind whipping through his hair, the promise of adventure.
It was my element too, except nerves had replaced the excitement that had been driving me until now. The conversation with Savannah kept playing through my mind. Bennett and I really had to sell this relationship, or they were going to send us home, and all of this would be for nothing.
Ben scanned the horizon, his jaw firm and tight, but the lines around his eyes were soft with contentment. His hand cupped my arm and rubbed it up and down when I shivered again. “Cold?”
I nodded, because it was easier than explaining that I was second-guessing everything—even though it was too late for that. It was like regretting bungee jumping after I’d already flung myself off the bridge. At that point, you needed to just enjoy the ride.
One of the crew members approached us. “See those trees over there?” he shouted. “That’s where we’re going to drop you.”
As we drew closer, I saw that it was a mix of rocky beach and cliffs that disappeared into a dark forest filled with bears, wolverines, foxes, moose, caribou, and plenty of other animals I would love to see—theoretically.
From a distance. I allowed myself to daydream about finding an adorable, fluffy forest animal to rehabilitate and safely return to the wild.
The crew helped us disembark and unload all of our gear. We went through one last check of our camera equipment with the crew as they helped us set up our tripods, reminding us to unpack the chest cams and put them on as soon as possible. Then they left.
As I turned in a circle to take in the place that would be our home for the foreseeable future, my brain and body felt weird. Tingly and disconnected. Like a part of me was floating above all of this, or in another room while white noise played. I blinked and tried to focus.
Bennett whooped, his voice carrying in an echo over the isolated landscape. “We’re here!” he shouted with the biggest smile I’d ever seen on his face. He picked me up around the waist and spun me a few times. I gripped his neck at first then let my hands go free like I was on a roller coaster.
Sound and sensation came back to me in a rush as I let the fresh wind and mist flying across my skin ground me in this moment.
I slid down Bennett’s body as he lowered me, aware of every place my body touched his. My heart raced as he grinned, tiny droplets of dew budding on his long eyelashes.
“Where should we start?” he asked.
Lightning flashed in the distance, and we both looked toward the ominous clouds heading in our direction. “What do you think?” I wasn’t used to being asked for my opinion on something like this. Greg would have taken charge and expected me to follow his lead.
Even if it was something he didn’t know a lot about.
“I’m leaning toward building our shelter first, so we have a place to put all our gear before the rain comes,” he said.
“But we’re going to be hungry, so we’ll need a fire.
I’m good with whichever one you think we should do.
” He looked at me expectantly, and I realized he respected my opinion. It was a strange feeling.
“I think we should strip naked and dance in the rain,” I said in as serious a tone as I could as I looked toward the approaching storm. Right now, especially with all the adrenaline racing through me and wearing too many layers, I was melting. “Give the viewers something to talk about.”
“Oh.” Bennett sounded like he was choking before he laughed. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”
“I never joke about nudity.”
His eyes flickered down my body so quickly, I might have been imagining it. “I like it, buddy. Sounds like a cool time. But I just want to make sure you remember that we have to record everything. Someone over at Wild will have to look at the footage and blur things out.”
Not this again. Charlie? Fine. Chuck? It made me laugh. Buddy? Something about it made me want to gouge both of our eyes out.
“New boundary,” I said. “I forbid you from calling me buddy.”
He opened his mouth and then closed it. “Bud it is.”
“I will shank you.”
“Before or after we dance naked?”
“During.”
He winced and brought his hands down to cover his front. “Sounds dangerous.”
“Could be.” I fought a smile. Bennett was the only person I’d ever been playful with like this.
I could say anything to him, and it would be okay.
There was a lot of freedom in not having to watch every word I said, worried I might trigger Greg’s anger.
Ugh, at some point, I was going to have to stop comparing every interaction I had with Ben to Greg.
They were not, and never had been, the same type of person. But my instincts ran deep.
“What alternatives do I have?” He started walking, and I followed him into the wooded area away from the waterline to scout out a good place for shelter. “Pal?”
“Veto.”
“Scout?”
“Maybe if I was five.”
“I mean …” He shrugged. “You are quite a bit younger than me.”
“Six years,” I said, poking him in the arm. “Don’t act like you changed my diapers.”
“Buzz, then?”
“That’s not even a real pet name.” But I laughed at his ridiculousness.
Most of my shock at actually being dropped here was wearing off, which meant I could finally think with a clear mind and recall our training.
It rained a lot here, so we needed to find higher ground to avoid getting flooded out.
But we didn’t want to get too far from our water source either.
“Bub. Tiger. Goob.”
“If you call me goob for any reason whatsoever, plan on sleeping with both eyes open.”
“One eye open wouldn’t be enough?”
I shook my head ominously. I stopped at a small clearing that looked perfect for setting up our tarp. We’d eventually want to build a more permanent shelter, but for now, tying our tarp between a couple of trees would be sufficient.
“Why do you need to call me anything?” I asked.
“Pet names are fun.” He grinned. “You can pick one for me.”
“I feel like they need to come naturally, not as something to just pick.”
“What did Greg call you?” He started to clear the ground of rocks and other debris while I moved the portable camera on the tripod to capture our new location and unpacked the rope.
“Charlotte,” I said. He said he couldn’t see himself marrying a Charlie.
“That’s not really a pet name.”
“Does Greg seem like a pet name kind of guy to you?” I asked, and then I immediately felt guilty, like I was being disloyal to him. I shot a glance at the camera, hoping that didn’t make the editing cut.
Bennett snorted but thankfully didn’t respond. We worked side by side quietly, my mind caught up in the work. As the sky grew darker, we picked up our pace.
I threw a rope over a branch and tied it securely. “Hey, sweetie, can you grab the other side of the rope?”
He was bent over digging a huge boulder out of the ground. He stood slowly and turned to me, one eyebrow lifted. “Sure, pookie.”
I barked out a laugh, and we finished securing the tarp and staked down the edge. It hung like a triangle, which left us open to the elements at the front or back, but at least the sides gave us some protection.
I raced around to grab kindling and logs to make a fire before everything got too wet, while Bennett lugged our belongings into our makeshift shelter. And just in the nick of time. I ducked under with an armful of sticks as the sky let loose with a torrent of rain.
“Ready to dance?” Bennett asked with waggling brows as a gust of wind blew through our tarp, bringing with it a spray of raindrops.
The temperature must have dropped at least ten degrees since we got here.
Wild had warned us about the unpredictable swings in weather, and how it would be one of the hardest things to deal with out here.
“I’m ready to make a fire and curl up in my sleeping bag.” All the adrenaline was wearing off, and exhaustion was starting to weigh me down. “I was only joking about running in the rain.”
“Your face lit up when you talked about it.” He whipped his shirt off. I blinked at the tan expanse of skin only inches from my face, suddenly not as cold as before. The least he could do was warn a gal before he stripped. “I think we should do one quick run.”
“Naked?” My voice squeaked.
“If you want.” He slipped his boots off, then his socks. “I don’t want to get my clothes all wet.”
I hurriedly looked away as his fingers linked in the elastic waistband of his pants.
But I could still see him out of the corner of my eye as he paused and then leaned out to stare at the lashing rain. “Think I’ll keep these on so Savannah doesn’t have to blur out my bits. Retain the mystery.”
“So good of you,” I tried to joke, but it was a little breathy. I was both cold and hot. A furnace inside a freezer.
“I try. Coming?” He looked toward the camera, then at me again as he held out his hand.
Right. The cameras. We needed to play off that we were the madly in love newlywed couple without inhibitions.
And it did sound fun. I was used to my ideas being shot down, told how irresponsible or immature they were.
Bennett was embracing this—even if it really was so dumb to be going out in the rain on our first day here.
But maybe being mature and smart and responsible all the time was overrated.
I hurriedly undressed down to my dark gray tank top and bike shorts and followed him outside. Not quite naked—I wore less when I went swimming—but still freeing to not have so many layers separating me from the elements.
The rain hit my skin like pebbled ice, but the fresh scent of pine and mountain air was unbelievable. I’d stepped into my own dream world, and it was hard to believe this was real. I tilted my head upward, letting the water run over my skin.
Bennett’s hand went around mine, and I let him tug me faster and faster around the beach, running and screaming in delight. I jumped onto his back at one point, and he carried me around, spinning until we both fell onto the sand laughing.
My heart raced with joy as Bennett turned his head to face me. “Thank you,” I said.
He brought my cold fingers to his mouth and kissed them, sending my already racing heart rate skyrocketing.
Lightning struck right over our heads, and I squealed as we raced back to the tarp and slid inside, both of us shivering and shaking now that we were done playing.
We shouldn’t waste energy like this. We’d need every spare calorie while we searched for food, and running around and fighting the cold were squandering that away.
But I couldn’t regret it. Not with how light and happy I felt—more than I had in as long as I could remember.
“I’ll start the fire, if you want to get the sleeping bags unrolled,” I said.
Bennett nodded, and we got to work. I squatted in front of my little teepee of kindling and sticks and huffed as the first spark didn’t take.
Or the next one. I kept trying, rearranging the kindling and hitting my flint again, blowing steadily, but no luck.
I imagined warmth filling our small space and how cozy this was going to be, trying to manifest it.
“You’ve got this,” I whispered, but the potential fire wasn’t listening.
From behind me, Bennett let out a frustrated growl. “Hey, Chucky?”
“Yeah?” I turned to find him holding up a sleeping bag, a frown crossing his face.
“We may have a problem.”