Chapter 6 Eden #3
and drills first, and then you’ll be partnered off. You and your partner will find your way to the designated destination,
and once there, you will be provided a well-rounded lunch. You will then be tasked with making your way back to the starting
point.”
I glance over at the lake beside us. In the distance, tree-covered mountains loom. From this far away, it’s a pretty scene.
But I have no desire to explore.
“Anyone who can’t swim?” JJ asks.
No one raises their hand. For a moment, I worry JJ is going to make us get in the water, and I feel like an idiot for not
even thinking to wear a bathing suit.
Thankfully, JJ just tells us to split off in pairs and find our way back to the trailhead without using the path.
Without using the path? She wants us to literally weed-whack our way through the woods?
I’m going to die of tick bites or poison fill-in-the-blank (why do all the leaves just look the same to me?).
I’m going to pee my pants, too.
When will this nightmare end?
As soon as JJ tells us to find a partner, I look hopefully over at another girl who is standing near me, and wave awkwardly.
But just as I’m walking toward her, Leo intercepts us. “Hey. Eden. Be my partner!”
He says it like a command, and his tone clearly scares off the nice-seeming girl, who gloms on to someone else.
“What? Why do you want to be my partner?” I demand as Leo comes to a stop two feet in front of me.
He appraises me head to foot. “Well, for one thing, I need to know what you’re doing here! You’re not stalking me, are you?”
“What?!” I nearly scream. “This is the last place on earth I want to be right now, and you’re the last person I want to be here with!”
“Relax, jeez, I was kidding. I just . . . would never in a million years picture you doing Boundless Horizons.”
“Yeah, well, you and me both,” I mutter angrily, trudging ahead of him into the woods, determined to get back to that damn parking lot and call Georgia to pick me up.
Maybe if I beg, I can talk my parents out of making me do this.
Surely they don’t expect me to spend two whole weeks lost in the woods with
only a compass, a fishing rod, and a judgmental ex-boyfriend?
“Eden, wait, wait,” Leo says, and I hear him jog through the underbrush to catch up to me. Then I feel his hands land confidently
on my shoulders.
His touch sends a surprised buzz through me. He hasn’t touched me since . . . since we were going out, more than two years
ago. His hands seem bigger now, his voice deeper. His presence more commanding.
I spin around and he drops his hands to his sides. “What?”
“You’re going the wrong way. Here,” he says, nodding in the right direction. He holds up his compass with that smug grin of
his.
“Oh.” I follow him reluctantly.
The underbrush is dense and scratchy. I attempt to use my fishing pole to thwart the tangles, but it just gets caught in a
bush, and Leo has to wrestle it out for me, laughing.
“So glad to see one of us is having a great time out here,” I mutter.
“You need to loosen up, Eden,” he says. “It’s unsafe to let your emotions take over when you’re in the wilderness.”
I don’t even bother to suppress my eye roll. In fact, if I could remove my eyeballs and physically roll them past him to make
a point, I would.
“If you must know, I’m only here because my parents are making me. They think it’ll reform me or something.”
“Ah,” he says. “That makes sense.”
“What does? Me needing to be reformed?”
He holds his hands up in surrender. “Dude, no. I meant, it makes sense that you aren’t here of your own volition.”
Who ways the word volition? Ugh, I hate this guy. “Let’s just get back to the lot, okay? I have to use the bathroom,” I tell him.
To my annoyance, he laughs again. “There’s no bathroom at the trailhead.”
“What? There’s not? Where are we supposed to pee? What is this, torture?”
“Eden, you can pee in the woods.”
“What?!”
“Oh my god, calm down.”
“Pee in the woods?! Do I look like a total lunatic? Who does that?”
He laughs. “Literally everyone. It’s natural.”
“Natural? Sure,” I say. “Naturally disgusting.”
He shakes his head, still laughing. Actually, he’s not laughing so much as giggling. It’s been a while since I’ve heard it,
and I forgot how he laughs, in this very boyish, giggly way that I used to think was so cute. Now I’m finding it extremely
grating.
“Suit yourself,” he says with a shrug, and starts marching ahead of me, faster than we were walking before.
“Hey, wait,” I shout. Last thing I need is to get left alone to starve, get eaten by vultures, and piss myself to death.
“We’re only like five more minutes from the trailhead, right?” I ask. I seem to recall the path down to the water was pretty
short.
“Did you miss the lecture about time?” he asks, checking his watch. “The path took us twenty-three minutes. I calculate through
the woods at the pace we’re going, and uphill, it’s likely still half an hour.”
I let out a groan.
We grow silent as we walk, and I’m keenly aware of the tension between us. The only thing keeping the awkwardness from killing
me completely is my outrage. It’s impossible to be around Leo and not think about what a judgmental jerk he is. How cruelly
and humiliatingly he treated me. The anger propels me forward.
That and the fear of running into bears. I should have brought my stupid pepper spray! Mental note for next time.
But after about another ten minutes, I realize I’m really not going to make it. I curse the Diet Coke gods for doing this
to me. They’re usually so kind.
“Okay,” I say, breaking our heavy silence.
“Okay what?” he asks.
“Okay you-know-what,” I hiss.
“Do I? I’m not sure I do,” he says, his voice a little singsongy.
“Don’t mock me, I’m serious. I need you to stand guard, okay?”
Leo stops walking and turns to stare at me, a look of delight on his face. And then, like I did earlier, he salutes. “At your service,” he says.
Then he turns his back. Without looking over at me, he says, “Take about thirty paces, where you can still see me. Squat behind
a tree.”
I hate this so much. I hate Diet Coke, and I hate fate itself, but most of all, I hate how happy Leo Goldbaum is to be a part
of one of the most mortifying experiences of my life.
But nature—just like JJ said—is a powerful thing. And right now, I have no choice but to obey it.
I stomp toward a tree and glance around, desperate to make sure no one else is nearby. Then I pull my suspenders off my shoulders,
yank down my shorts, and squat.
Peeing in the woods is actually much harder than I expected, and I nearly fall onto my naked butt in the bushes. I also come
dangerously close to peeing on my own heels. Guys have it so much easier; they don’t even realize how good they have it. My
thighs are shaking from the effort of balancing when I finally finish and stand up.
I’m mortified, but at least I can think more clearly now. As I approach Leo, who is still dutifully facing the other way,
I hiss into his ear, “If this ever gets out, you’re dead.”
Then I shove past him and keep marching through the trees, half hoping we’re almost at the trailhead and half hoping I march
my way right off a cliff and never have to face Leo Goldbaum again.