CHAPTER 3
My bladder aches as I roll over in my sleeping bag, wishing I didn’t have to pee this early in the morning.
As a Girl Scout, you’re taught to never go anywhere alone when camping, that even means the bathroom.
The other girls stayed up later than I did.
I was exhausted after driving that whole trip, but also from working on my essay.
The sound of chirping birds fills the tent, along with dim sunlight.
I dig under my pillow for my cell to check the time.
It’s only five in the morning. There’s no way in hell any of the others are up yet.
I guess I’m going to have to make this trip to the bathroom on my own.
I quickly shimmy out of my sleeping bag, wishing I hadn’t changed into shorts last night because the cold air hits me, making me have to pee even more.
The sound of the zipper on the tent slices through the campsite.
I glance around at the other tents hoping I didn’t startle anyone awake.
My bare toes curl into my flip-flops with each step I take on the gravel road.
I silently wish to myself that I had packed a pair of boots, and not just sandals and a pair of Converse.
My stomach heaves as I reach the bathroom, the smell catching me off guard. Normally by this time in the morning the bathrooms and showers are clean because of routine cleanings. I guess this place isn’t as strict in their cleaning schedule.
When I get back to the campsite, I look for more twigs to use as kindling and some paper, so I can start the fire and get warm. It may be seventy-five during the day, but right now it feels like it’s hardly fifty and my legs are covered in little goosebumps.
It's not long before I’m fanning the fire, praying to the fire gods that the larger log catches before all the smaller stuff burns, and I must start over. The log ignites slowly, drowning in an orange glow.
Thank goodness!
The rising sunlight glints off something through the woods. I squint because I haven’t put my contacts in yet. What in the world is that? My curiosity is piqued when I get a glimpse of what I believe is a truck I recognize. It can’t be… Can it?
I tiptoe behind my tent, sneaking through the tree line. If I were smart, I would go back to my fire and make myself a cup of coffee, but clearly, I have no sense of self-preservation.
Before I can cross the row of trees, the camper door swings open.
I dart back to my site, not giving a shit if I sound like a bear fumbling through the branches.
My mind races as I fumble my way back to the campfire, hoping I wasn’t too loud.
Hopefully I didn’t draw unwanted attention to myself.
I never said I was stealthy or all that coordinated.
Was I seeing things? Was that his truck? No way. We’re literally twelve hours away from home. I’m on autopilot as I dig through a plastic tote for the water kettle. I need coffee to calm down and focus on what’s important, and not my depraved fantasies.
A shuffling sound startles me, but I quickly realize it’s Annie rustling her tent zipper, trying to get it open. Her head pops out, showing me a mess of brown curls and rosy cheeks.
“Good morning, Sunshine,” she lets out a low grumble as she trips on the flap of the tent, nearly falling right on her face.
“There’s a step up there...” I start to say.
Her stare is icy as she kneels on one knee to get her sneaker on properly.
“Stop being a pain in my ass and walk with me to the bathroom. Then, I’ll help make your precious coffee.”
We walk silently to the bathroom without running into anyone else.
“Did you see who was camping next to us in the camper?” I ask her while kicking a pebble next to my foot.
“No, it was too dark by the time we got the camp set up. Why?” she sounds confused, and deservedly so. “Hold that thought, I’ll be right back.”
She takes off, speed-walking down the road like she can’t wait to relieve herself. My eyes flash to her perfectly round ass as she scampers off.
My cell phone rings, no doubt waking up anyone who’s asleep. Who’s calling me this early? I fish it out of my hoodie pocket when ‘Mom’ flashes across the screen.
“Hello?”
“Thank God you’re okay. I tried calling and texting you last night, but you never answered. Are you trying to give your mother and father a heart attack?”
Crap. I forgot to charge my phone yesterday in the Jeep on the way down here. Last night I put it on a rechargeable portable battery bank, letting it charge while I slept.
“I’m sorry, Mom. We’re fine, I promise. Now go back to sleep, it’s the ass crack of dawn.”
There’s a long pause before she lets out a huff into the phone.
“Your father was ready to drive down and find you, Scarlett. You promised to keep in touch the whole time.”
I want to tell her I’m eighteen and she really can’t make me do anything, but it would be pointless and honestly a giant waste of breath. Neither of them can be reasoned with when they get like this.
“I can still do it,” I hear my dad mumble in the background.
“I promise we’re fine, and I’ll call you later. Love ya both.”
I hang up, hoping to whatever kind of God there is out there, that he doesn’t follow through with his threats. I’m just going to have to make sure I text them every twelve hours or so, for proof of life.
“Mom?” Annie asks as she steps out into the now-warming air.
“Yeah, you know how parents can be.”
She nods, but I quickly regret my words when she goes quiet next to me. My guess is because she doesn’t really know how that is since she comes from a home that doesn’t give a shit if she’s there or not.
But I care… Is that enough?