11. Grant
ELEVEN
GRANT
I know this isn’t my fault, but staring at the carnage that’s descended at camp, I can’t help but feel like I’ve jinxed Lila.
We hiked across an open meadow and over another stretch of lava rock on our last full day in the national forest. Around one, we set up camp, had lunch, and left our things behind for a short hike to a viewpoint. There, volcanic ridges covered in green pines stretched away in front of us, leading to three different mountain peaks from the ones we’ve seen at other points on the trek. It’s a mountain lover’s paradise out here.
But as soon as we returned to camp, evidence it had been ransacked while we were out greeted us. A scrap of blue fabric. A piece of red canvas. Lots and lots of scat.
“This is new.” Mitchell tugs gently at the ground-level hole in Lila’s tent. A six-inch tear has been chewed into it, and I think I can guess the guilty culprit.
Marmots. I’ve seen their work before. I’m not superstitious, but maybe it was bad luck to tell that particular story.
“We haven’t had anything like this happen out here.” Deena holds the piece of blue fabric.
I’ve memorized the shirt it came from .
Lila’s face is as pale as it was when she caught the fish. “Do you think it’s still in there?”
“Nah. There’s an exit hole on this side.” Scott’s on the opposite end of her tent, looking at the damage like it’s all part of the fun.
“There’s one over here, too,” Cindy adds from the back wall.
“Maybe there was more than one.”
“More than one would explain all the poop.”
Lila swats the side of the tent, watching the nearest rip in the fabric as though she expects several marmots to run out squealing. Nothing happens. She crouches to unzip the door, holding the zipper between her thumb and forefinger like it might bite. When she finally kneels inside, a sad little sound of dismay fills the air.
“My shirt…my extra socks…my leggings…”
“Did she keep any food in there?” Mitchell asks me.
“I don’t think so.” My thoughts head straight for the granola bar wrapper. I have no idea if she ever put it in one of the odor-proof bags. Judging by her wrecked tent, I have a sinking feeling she didn’t.
Lila stands, shaking her head as though the scene is too unbelievable to accept. She puts her face in her hands, and her shoulders shudder. It’s an unfortunate way to end her first hiking trip, but I hate to see her like this.
I move closer and slip a hand onto her back. I trace over her skin as though I can smooth out her sobs. “Hey. It’s okay. It’s just stuff. It can all be replaced. The important thing is, you’re safe.”
Not that marmots would have attacked her, but I can think of about a hundred ways this trip could have ended worse for her.
She pulls her fingers away from her eyes. Tears shine there, but…she’s la ughing?
“I’m cursed, aren’t I?”
Her giggles make my heart lighter, easing away some of the guilt. “I wouldn’t say cursed .”
No better explanation comes to mind, though.
“I’m not meant to be a camper. Or a backpacker. Or a lake swimmer.” She swats at the tears rolling down her cheeks, but she keeps on laughing. “I’m just a girl who likes to stay inside my cozy home and sip drinks while I read books. I want to move from one temperature-controlled room to another. I’m just not outdoorsy. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m not.”
Her wry expression gets lost in a fit of giggles. “There’s so much poop in there. More than I think a marmot even weighs.”
“They’re magical creatures.”
That sends her into another round of laughter.
“Let’s air out your sleeping bag.” Deena stoops to pull it from the tent, shaking marmot scat as she goes. Mitchell does the same with the sleeping mat.
As the tent flap flutters behind them, I catch a glimpse of Lila’s clothes strewn around the floor. That marmot must have taste-tested everything in its effort to get to the wrapper.
“I checked the other tents,” Shannon says. “No sign of any damage.”
“Congratulations.” Brian reaches across me to shake Lila’s hand. “This is a badge of honor.”
“An honor? Really?” She sounds like she’s ready to collapse into laughter all over again, but she shakes his hand.
“Next time you’re sitting around a campfire and somebody starts complaining about worst hikes, nobody’s going to be able to top this story.”
“I guess it’s good to have bragging rights. Kind of.”
“Only a small nibble in the sleeping bag,” Deena says as she and Mitchell join the rest of us circled around Lila’s tent. “I can patch it up when we get back.”
“At least it happened on the last day,” Mitchell adds.
“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I think it was after the granola bar wrapper I had in my pocket.”
“I saw the shredded foil. It’s all right. Things happen. We’re just glad nobody got hurt.”
“But we do need to talk about where you’re going to sleep tonight,” Mitchell says. “The sleeping bag will be fine, but the tent won’t keep out the cold very well like this.”
Lila frowns down at the open tent. “I didn’t think about that.”
“Grant has space in his tent.” He sends a careful look my way. He’s not quite offering, but it’s clear he thinks someone should.
Lila’s eyes also shoot to mine, brimming with questions.
“Of course you can share my tent.” I’ve slept in two-person tents with strangers on trips like this before. This wouldn’t be any different.
Except Lila’s not a stranger. And I haven’t been able to get her out of my head for four days. And having her so close just might kill me in all the best possible ways.
But I can set that aside so she can sleep in comfort tonight. Well—relative comfort.
“We would divide up so Mitchell can share with Grant, except we sleep in a two-person sleeping bag.” Deena looks to the other couples, silently testing if either of them are willing to split up.
Cindy smiles but shakes her head. “I’m a really light sleeper. I don’t think I would be able to sleep if I wasn’t with Brian. Sorry.”
“And Scott snores like a freight train,” Shannon says with a laugh. “Unless Grant has heavy-duty earplugs like I do, he wouldn’t sleep a wink if they paired up. I’m sorry, Lila. I think you’ll have to go with Grant.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time she’s been in his tent.” Scott lifts his eyebrows, but looks away as though claiming innocence of what he just said.
I figured they’d noticed as much—there are no secrets on a trip like this—but I didn’t think anyone would bring it up to our faces. Apparently, I gave them too much credit.
“We’ve been reading together.” I read more Color of Magic last night until Lila could barely keep her eyes open, and she ducked out of my tent with a huge yawn.
He elbows his wife in the side. “I remember when we used to read in our tent.”
I ignore his insinuations, and turn to Lila. “I don’t mind sharing.”
She drops her mouth open but snaps it shut again, like she’s torn between two answers. Given the circumstances, there’s only one feasible option.
“Okay. Thank you.”
I’m not sure she’s as comfortable as she’s pretending to be, but I’ll do whatever it takes to put her at ease. This is only about keeping her warm.
Even if I spend the whole night trying not to think about all the other ways I could do just that.
After dinner, Lila appears at my tent, toting her sleeping mat.
“I figured we should get everything set up before the sun goes down. We don’t want to have to fumble around in there in the dark.” She closes her eyes slowly and doesn’t look at me when she opens them again. “You know what I mean.”
“Go ahead.” I unzip the door and hold it aside for her. I’d already slid my mat and bag as close to the door as possible. There’s enough room for her, but only just.
She crawls inside and arranges her mat. No matter how she pokes and prods, there’s no space between them. “I’ll go get the sleeping bag.”
I stare down at the practically overlapping sleeping mats, trying to erase every single thought that crops up in response. I need to treat this like an emergency situation. I just can’t think of what the protocol should be.
A minute later, she returns, bulky bag in her arms like a limp bride. “I’m so sorry. It still smells a bit like marmot.”
“It’s my fault. I should have taken the possibility more seriously.”
“Yeah, but I still had the granola bar wrapper in my pants like a dummy.”
“Who gave it to you in the first place?”
She rolls her eyes. “You saved everyone from a wretched case of the hangries. It was very noble of you.”
It doesn’t feel very noble now that it’s led us to sleeping in the same tent. Not my end game, but I can’t pretend I’m disappointed.
Before she can duck through the door, I stop her. “I don’t mind sleeping in your tent tonight.”
“What? No, it’s ruined. You’d be too cold.”
“That doesn’t matter if you’re uncomfortable with this. I can sleep in extra layers. Say the word, and I’ll move my things.”
“No.” She stands straighter. “We’re grownups. This is no big deal. We’re just doing this to share warmth. Wait—” She slashes a hand through the air. “Pretend I didn’t say it that way.”
“I know what you meant.”
She lays out the sleeping bag. I catch her trying to create any kind of space between them, but they touch.
It’s going to be a long night.