3
ERICA
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I make several trips back and forth, bakery in the cafeteria to different activity spots around the youth camp, then back to the bakery again. Back and forth, back and forth. The tediousness of it is just whatever. All day my mind keeps drifting to King and this morning.
King made me feel like a fool.
It’s not my fault he kissed me on Christmas.
But then for him to do something like that and act completely cold toward me afterward was just wrong.
I was out there in my parents’ backyard by myself, and he came and followed me out there and did all of that.
Granted, it was really hot. It was sexy, not going to lie, and honestly felt like it came out of nowhere.
Clearly when King has alcohol in him, he’s a little bit more…
well… almost normal in a rough, forward kind of way.
But then the dude gives off mixed signals like crazy, probably because he’s trying to be the good choir boy even though he’s not in a choir but still.
He’s done everything to go out of his way to avoid me, not answering my texts, just being real stink. Then he comes in this morning and has the nerve to try and tell me good morning. Get the fuck out of here.
A little later, Zosha and I catch up some more.
Caleb tries to interject now and again, and every time he does, it’s like he purposely goes out of his way to start a fight with her.
Zosha is usually very nice and easy-going, but with Caleb it’s like she reserves all of her fiery attitude for him.
It’s honestly kind of amusing. Half the time the both of them are bantering back and forth, they don’t even realize how much chemistry they have. It’s crazy and amusing.
Then when Zosha catches me laughing, she always yells at me, “What’s so funny? Glad you’re over there having a grand old time instead of defending me.”
“Look, I have nothing to do with the both of you,” I tell her.
I finish up in the cafeteria, helping Zosha clean. Then she stays back, talking to some of the other bakers and a few counselors she’s made friends with. It’s good that she’s making friends.
She’s still the same person, but Poland definitely did some good for her; getting away, probably helping her bond with family and grieve over her father with them.
As I’m heading to my cabin, I see Jun.
“What’s up, Korean Rambo?” I ask cheekily.
“How was your Christmas?” he asks.
“Do you really care?” I reply.
He shrugs and tells me a story. “I got drunk and started a fight with my father. Cussed him out.”
“Why did you do that?” I ask.
“I have a little bit more privileges and the right to do certain things if I’m paying for my parents’ houses,” he says.
“Houses? Why did the parents have two?” I ask.
“They’re divorced, even though they spend time at each other’s houses quite a lot. So I think I’m allowed to have a little bit of say.”
As we’re walking toward my cabin, I ask, “What was the fight about?”
“I was having a little party, celebrating, Christmas party or whatever, and my father had a problem with the drinking and whatnot. Which is so stupid because I have my own house, and it’s not as though he had to live in the house that I bought.”
“Where is the house? Where is your parents’ house?” I ask.
“Based on the lot that I have, it’s like a minute drive away. You know, they’ve got enough space.”
“Does your father not deserve some kind of comfort?”
“I gave him that, and I’m allowed a little bit of celebration. I swear to God , you give your parents everything and they still try to treat you like you’re six years old and they own your life.”
“Because to them we never stop being their baby,” I say.
We reach my cabin. I go inside, and he follows me in, closing the door.
“There’s something to be grateful for,” I tell him. “Just to even have this rinky cabin with cold water.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that,” he says. “It wasn’t necessary, honestly.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I’m just saying, if it had been me there, we wouldn’t have been stranded that long, if at all.”
I turn to face him, leaning on the pillar of my cabin. “Why are you always trying to tear down King?”
“The dude is already torn down. He’s a walking useless person.”
“Well, we were stranded there, and it’s what happened.”
“I understand that, and all I’m saying is if I was there—”
“But you weren’t there,” I cut him off. “King is the one who came up to get me on the trail after that whole shit went down at the cafeteria, and I’m grateful for that.
Did you spend over two weeks stranded out there in the wilderness?
Have you ever, without your cameras and your hotels and your money and your satellite phone and things at the ready, Jun? ”
Before he can answer, I keep going. “No. You got attacked and thankfully survived, and then rushed back immediately to get help, or people found you. We didn’t know if we’d ever be found.”
Jun holds up his hands in defeat with a smirk. “Fair enough. That was pretty badass, I gotta admit.”
“Everyone knows what they’re going to do until they’re in the situation,” I say. “And these situations… no matter how book smart you think you are and how prepared you think you are, when you’re in them it’s a completely different thing.”
“That’s true,” he says.
He smiles. “That’s why you’re my cougar.”
I push him back with one finger. “Go find your other cougar. We’re not doing that.”
“Really? Why not?”
“I don’t know. I’m just not feeling you anymore.”
Jun looks at me. “Your loss,” he says as he starts to head for the front door of my cabin.
“No, not really,” I say. “If I had to choose someone to be in the forest with, it would be King.”
Jun looks back. “But let me guess, he doesn’t want you either because you’re not his first choice. That must suck.” And he leaves.
I walk out the door, standing on the porch of my cabin. “Was that supposed to hurt me? I’m the one who doesn’t want him. Stuck-up Bible thumpers who live, eat, sleep, and shit church are not my thing. I’m not that desperate.”
There’s movement to my left. I look over and see King standing there by my porch.
Still walking away, Jun looks over his shoulder and smiles, clearly having seen King when he walked out of my cabin.
Oh no.
Why the hell is King just standing out here?
Just looking at his face, I can tell I’ve hurt his feelings. And I hate that.
But I don’t want to give in to him.
Maybe that was a bit harsh, but he’s also been cold to me, so whatever.
I fold my arms. “Did you need something?”
King glares. “Never mind,” he says. Then he walks away, back toward his cabin.
The pain of not only embarrassment but shame of what I said seems to tackle me into a pit of despair.
Just moments ago I was defending King. Why did I say those things?