14. Nat
FOURTEEN
Nat
“So how are you doing?” Hazel’s voice was doing that worried thing it did sometimes.
Leo must have told her everything after our quick phone call, where he’d checked on me before jokingly asking if he had to rename the place Camp Natalie to prevent me from suing.
While her question was of concern and care, there was also a weariness in her tone that advised me against venting about the prospect of living with Jack.
Part of me wanted to let the dam break and tell her that Jack was becoming a little too distracting.
That I might be in trouble. But her voice was smaller than I’d ever heard it, and it was clear she was going through something much bigger than I was. So I gave her the sanitized answer.
“It’s a mess, but we’re handling it. Everyone banded together after it happened, and I got out, so it’s nothing to worry about.” I hoped she didn’t use her superpower to read between the lines. While everything I’d said was true, it was also… lacking.
Hazel hummed, letting the moment stretch out. It was one of her tactics that always worked on me, leaving me no choice but to fill the silence.
“It was a little bit scary.”
“I bet it was.” She let out a sigh, and I wondered how much she wished she were here. “You went to Alyse, right? What did she say?”
“She said I’m good. No stitches, just a little sore.”
It was obvious she wanted to focus this conversation on me, not her, and while it was a signature Hazel move, I needed to redirect the conversation. Take a page out of her book.
“Enough about me. What’s going on with you?” I asked.
Hazel sniffed hollowly. “There’s just a lot going on, and I’m not handling it as well as I would like.” There was a plea in her brittle tone confirming she was just barely keeping it together. So I didn’t press.
I expected an I’ve got to go. What I didn’t expect were the next words out of her mouth.
“Jack isn’t being mean, right? If he is, you’ll let me know?”
Mean definitely wasn’t the word I’d use. Challenging? Exhausting? Getting under my skin? Those all seemed much more fitting.
“No more than before.” And while I had my doubts about living with the man, I was also very resourceful. I already knew how I’d be dealing with him.
“Well, good. In that case, let’s call this penance for that double date.”
I barked out a laugh at her audacity. “For the last time, it wasn’t a double date.” I’d made my case before and lost this argument every time.
In her words, I’d tricked her into going on a double date with a guy whose hot roommate I wanted to hook up with.
It was more like a hangout where we were scoping out if he was decent or not.
It wasn’t my fault that his roommate talked Hazel’s ear off about Greek mythology for two hours while I flirted with the hot one.
Still, I played along for a moment before gently offering, “You know I’m here if you wanna talk some more. Whenever.”
“Thanks, babe. We will. But Leo’s here, and he brought soup.”
We all had our comfort foods. Hazel’s was any type of soup. No matter how hot it was outside.
It made me think of the comfort meal I’d had the morning after the storm.
My campers had brought me goodies from the mess hall and checked how I was doing with my injuries.
They’d left with quite the story to tell from their week at camp after being woken up and helping tarp my caved-in cabin while I was at the clinic.
By the time I made it back to the cabin to rest my aching feet, Jack had cleared the tools and random stuff off the bunk beds as promised.
Even though he was making an effort, his messier space was still throwing me off, but I didn’t complain because he was at least diligently working on my cabin repairs.
He’d gotten my busted laptop, my dead phone, and my meds from my nightstand.
What I didn’t expect him to bring back was my mini fridge, which was a little dinged up but completely functional.
I appreciated how considerate he was of my needs when I didn’t even ask him.
But I was still out of my comfort zone, which stressed me out.
My gaze shot between the bunk beds and Jack’s bed.
I hadn’t slept in a twin bed in ages, much less a bunk bed.
I would have preferred the top bunk—all the better to look down upon Jack.
However, it was only used as storage. I sure as hell couldn’t sleep in the bed directly across from that man again.
While the bed itself was comfortable enough, the problem was Jack.
The man’s e-reader brightened up the entire room.
And for some annoying reason, I wanted to know what he was reading.
I shouldn’t care, but I had seen the bluish glow highlighting his stupid grin, and it was enough to make anyone curious.
Not to mention it made me miss my own e-reader, probably buried in that pile of rubble.
I longed for the perfect distraction that only books could provide. Plus, the book I had been reading before the storm was just starting to get good. The mystery was unfolding perfectly, and the protagonist had finally learned they liked their quirky neighbor. They were going to kiss any page now.
Jack reacted to his book again, and I couldn’t help myself. “What are you reading?”
“It’s a sweet little story about a man who lives by himself in the forest and the woman who knocks on his door in the middle of the night.”
For some reason, I knew the plot wasn’t going to have a hot one-bed situation like one of my books would have.
“Jack, we’re literally at a cabin. In the woods. What are you thinking?”
“It soothes me. Plus, I’m getting some good ideas in case someone crosses me,” he deadpanned.
That pulled a laugh out of me that I didn’t expect. Actually, it sounded closer to a snort. “Aren’t you hilarious tonight?”
He looked pleased with my reaction and went on. “Did you know that more than four hundred people have gone missing on Mt. Rainier since it became a national park?”
“Isn’t that only a few hours away?”
“That number is pretty high. They say conditions make it nearly impossible to find people. Something about fog rolling in out of nowhere and hidden crevasses people just… fall into.”
I didn’t have many options, so I threw the closest thing I could find at him. His T-shirt hit him square in the face, and I reveled at my prowess. “I don’t want to know that! Now I’m not going to be able to sleep,” I screeched.
“I’m the one who’s reading it, princess.
I think you’ll be just fine.” He chuckled to himself, then stopped abruptly, holding the material in front of his face and staring at it a little too long.
I knew I was going to regret whatever he said next.
“Wait a second. Were you sleeping with my T-shirt?”
“No,” I lied.
“Then why was it in your bed?” The humor in his voice had my cheeks going so hot, I wondered if they were illuminating the room.
“You worry about things on your half of the room.”
I expected something cocky and annoying to follow that statement. Instead, he surprised me. “Speaking of worrying, did you change your bandage tonight?”
I wasn’t about to give in to some sweet response, so I went with the first thing I could. “Yes, Mom,” I joked.
“I only ask because Alyse scares me.”
I laughed at that one. Alyse was as scary as Leo. “So do horses, right?” I teased.
Jack’s face scrunched up adorably at the mention of the amazing animals. He set his e-reader down on his chest and let the darkness engulf us. “You remember that?”
My voice came out softer in the dark. “It’s easy to remember someone hating something you love.”
Jack’s voice had a smile in it. “You would love horses.”
“And you would love being a dick,” I bit back but regretted the harsh words. “What do you have against horses, anyway?” There had to be a reason behind his clear hatred toward the majestic animals.
“I didn’t grow up going to camps, like most everyone else here.
” His voice was quiet, and I waited with bated breath for him to continue.
“But I was a Boy Scout. Our troop went to a horse ranch, and it was stupid.” He emitted a soft sigh.
“A kid spooked the horse I was learning to ride, and it took off running. I clutched the reins, but I was thrown off anyway. I got a broken arm and a forced apology out of the ordeal when his mother found out what had happened. I swore I wouldn’t get back on one of those deathtraps if I could help it. ”
“That sounds awful.” My heart squeezed for him. I almost hadn’t expected him to answer, and now that he had, I oddly felt the need to keep this conversation alive. “Maybe the reason you can’t sleep is that you read scary books before bed,” I observed.
He lifted his screen back up, his face taking on that soft blue aura again as he turned back to his book. “It’s not. And sleep is overrated.”
I laughed, surprised. “Um, no, it’s one of the best things a human can do.”
“I wouldn’t know.” There was a wistfulness to his tone that I wasn’t used to from him.
“So this is normal for you? Up at all hours?”
“Insomnia is a bitch. But it means I’m up early for bird-watching. Or whatever I’m doing that day.”
I also remembered last year’s admission, when Jack commented about never sleeping more than four hours a night during a game of two truths and a lie. Back then, I’d thought it was an exaggeration, but now I figured that might actually be the case for him. “I’ve never been bird-watching.”
“It’s one of my favorite things to do. That, and yoga, help clear my head. You could probably use something like that,” he suggested.
It surprised me to hear that Jack did yoga when I saw him as more of a lumberjack, but the man clearly contained multitudes.
“I’ve tried meditation, but I couldn’t turn my brain off.” I thought about all the noise in my life and the things I was behind on. I’d never felt settled. There was always something I should be doing.