Chapter 42
-Nevaeh-
Monday, 5 PM
“We’ve been walking for five fucking hours and I haven’t seen a single fucking campsite!” Noah shouts, forcefully kicking a tree before hissing in pain and grabbing his foot.
“Pebble, don’t try to fight nature. You’ll get your ass kicked.” I retort, making him glare at me.
“Okay, so we may or may not be, kind of, a little bit…lost.” Max trails of quietly, scratching the back of his neck.
“Okay,
“Oh, no shit!” I retort.
“Look, forget the campsite, Max.” Dylan starts. “We’ll just keep walking and find a reasonable place to set up camp.”
“I agree with Dylan.” Megan pipes up. “I’m not about to walk another five hours trying to find a campsite.”
Max sighs. “Okay, we’ll find some flat ground and set up our tents there.”
Monday, 8 PM
“Fuck this! Fuck that! Fuck everything!” I kick one of the broken tent poles away and flop down on the shattered remains of mine and Megan’s tent
The boys‘ tent wasn’t looking any better. Almost all the poles had been snapped in half (courtesy of Noah and his fucking Hulk strength which I never knew he had), the pegs to hold the tent down had ended up in the lake a couple feet away from us because Dylan had been trying to throw them at Noah who was having a bitch fit right next to the lake. Noah had then proceeded to turn around and try to kill Dylan, so of course, Momma Max had to step in and try to save Dylan’s dumb ass.
And somehow, the actual tent itself had ended up in a tree.
Like, all the way at the top.
“We lose.” Dylan groans, leaning on a tree. “A damn tent kicked our asses.”
“And ours.” Megan huffs, plopping down on the ground and crossing her legs.
“Guys, we need somewhere to sleep tonight.” Max tells us as Noah comes over and flops down on my back.
“I don’t know, the ground is feeling pretty damn good, right about now.” My voice comes out muffled due to my face. being buried in the remains of the tent.
“Yeah, you say that now,” Max starts. “But what happens when a bear comes along in the middle of the night and
tries to eat us?”
“Are you implying that a tent will save us from a bear?” Noah questions, sitting up and pulling me up with him.
Chapter 42
“Because I hate to break it to you, mate, but it won’t.”
Max opens his mouth to speak but Megan cuts in.
“Guys, our best option right now, is to just get in our sleeping bags and sleep on the ground.” She tells us tiredly.
Monday, 9:30 PM
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, move!” I bump the boys out of the way from their crouching positions around the little fire pit they had made as they took turns trying to catch the sticks on fire using the flint.
I crouch down, pulling a lighter out my pocket and setting the sticks alight.
“You brought a lighter?” Dylan asks slowly.
“Of course I did.” I scoff. “You really think I’d take Max’s word when he said he knew how to use a flint?”
“Um, wow, okay.” Max throws me an offended look.
“You had a lighter this whole time, yet you just watched us trying to start a fire using a flint for an hour?” Noah growls, throwing his arms up in frustration.
“Well, yeah.” I shrug.
“Why?”
“It was amusing.”
Noah steps forward with a death glare on his face, no doubt ready to strangle me, but Max and Dylan quickly pull
him back.
“Okay, please don’t kill your soulmate.” Max pleads.
Monday,:45 PM
“Well, this is cozy.” Max grins as we all lie around the fire in our sleeping bags, in a circle, our feet towards the fire.
“Not bad at all.”
“I hate you, Max.” Noah, Dylan, Megan and I all grumble in unison.
“Love yo
you, too, guys.” Max doesn’t let his grin drop. “Goodnight, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite.”
“I hope the fucking bed bugs do bite you.” I say sharply, pulling my sleeping bag tighter around me.
Tuesday, 2 AM
“What the shit, guys, wake up!” Dylan’s voice cuts loudly through the air, making us groggily wake up..
“What oli fuck.” I curse, sinking further into my sleeping bag as small droplets of water fall on my face.
“What do we do?” Megan questions, also sinking further into her sleeping bag.
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Chapter 42
“I don’t know–grab the tent that isn’t up in the tree?” Max suggests.
“What the hell is that going to do?” Noah questions, his voice skeptical.
“We can huddle up, toss it over ourselves and use it as a tarp.” He explains.
“Fuck, fine.” Noah grumbles before standing up with his sleeping bag still around him. The rain had started falling harder now, feeling like mini–bullets against our sleeping bags. As soon as he takes a step, he slips and face plants on the muddy ground.
Everyone except him starts laughing their asses off.
“I fucking hate camping.”
Tuesday, 10 AM
“I vote we call this whole thing off.” I state from my sitting position on a large rock next to the lake with my legs crossed. “This is fucking ridiculous.”
