"More than some, I'd guess." He studied me for a moment. "You're Rae’s sister, right? From the orphanage?"
"That’s me."
"She mentioned you. Said you'd be one to watch." He smiled slightly. "Didn't mention you'd try to kill your classmates on day one."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"Take it however you want. Just keep it under control."
He walked back to the group, leaving me with a water bottle and the uncomfortable realization that I'd been showing off without meaning to.
Or maybe I had meant to. Maybe I'd wanted James to see that I could handle this — that I didn't need anyone keeping up with me, matching my pace, looking at me like I was something worth chasing.
Stop it,I told myself.Focus.
I focused. It didn't help.
James stepped in beside me and before I could stop him, reaching for my pack like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“I’ve got it,” he said, already lifting.
The pack barely cleared the ground before it yanked his shoulder down. He staggered, boots scraping, and I caught the strap out of reflex before it could tip him backward.
He stared at it. Then at me.
“What do you have in here,” he asked, breathless, “boulders?”
I shrugged, slipping the pack back onto my shoulders like it hadn’t just tried to kill him. “Probably too much water.”
His mouth opened. Closed.
“You pack like you’re planning to get stranded.”
I’d been adding weight to my packs for years, training my body to expect thin air and long days.
I tightened the straps. “I pack like I don’t plan on needing help.”
We made camp as the sun started dropping, finding a sheltered spot in a grove of spruce where the wind couldn't reach us. Mr. Boone supervised while we set up tents.
Sandy and Leigh claimed the far tent immediately. I was left with the one closest to the fire pit, which meant I was also closest to the larger one James, Len and Charlie were sharing. Mr Boone and I had each carried our own one-man tent.
Dinner was freeze-dried camping food rehydrated with hot water. It tasted salty, but I ate it anyway. Calories were calories.
"So," Leigh said, settling cross-legged by the fire. "Anyone know any good stories?"
"I know a joke," Charlie offered. "Why don't scientists trust atoms?"
"If you say 'because they make up everything,' I'm pushing you in the fire," Sandy said.
Charlie closed his mouth.
"I know some stories," Mr. Boone said. He was sitting back from the flames, his face half in shadow. "Old ones. The kind they used to tell up here before the academy existed."
"Creepy ones?" Leigh asked hopefully.
"Some of them."
We all leaned in. Even Sandy, who’d been pretending to be bored all day, shifted closer to the fire.
