I’ve already felt plenty of critters making their way over my body under the tree, and I had to take deep breaths and hope none of them would bite, and that, if they did, it wouldn’t bethatvenomous.
My eyes are still shut when a shadow falls over my face, mercifully shading me from the sun, and I realize that no matter what it is, the time is up for me to think it through.
“Rowan.”
And then I open my eyes and see my sister there, standing over me. Her cheeks are flushed, her golden-brown hair tied up into a stub of a ponytail. Sweat rolls over her forehead, and she looks exactly like she always does — pissed at me.
“Oh,” I say, blinking. “I’m dead.”
“You’d better not be,” she mutters, shaking her head and moving so the sun shines right in my eyes again. I wince and raise my left hand over my eyes, listening to the crunch of her feet as she moves around the tree.
“I have to be dead,” I reason, with the apparition that definitely isn’t my sister, but probably some sort of figment of my imagination. “Because it would make no sense for you to be here.”
“Oh, really? You think you’re going to move within an hour of my town and I’m not going to figure it out. I saw Pete at the gas station, Rowan.”
“That bastard.”
“No,you’rethe bastard. Telling him he can’t stop to go pee?”
“Well, I was right, wasn’t I? See what happened?”
“You were making him wear a wig? And you really thought that was going to keep anyone from recognizing him?”
“He never puts it on right,” I argue, vaguely hearing the crunch of her shoes. Now, I’m not so sure whether or not she’s real. Sheseemsreal.
And I would very much like not to be dead.
“I’m pissed at you, just so you know,” she says, appearing again in my eyesight for just a moment, before disappearing once more. “I should leave you here, stuck, as a punishment fordisappearing off the face of the earth. You bitch.”
“Hey.” I cough, shaking my head. “That’s not very nice. I could be dead.”
“You’re not dead,” she says, and I can make out the rough sound of her heaving, moving something heavy. “Are you in pain?”
“No.”
“Can you wiggle your hands and toes?”
“Yeah,” I say, which I know because it’s basically all I’ve been doing since the thing fell on top of me, just to make sure I still could.
“Then you’re fine. And I’m mad at you. So, so mad at you, because you know what, Rowan? Youcouldbe dead! If this tree fell a bit to one side or the other?” She pauses, grunting with effort, and when I lift my head, I see her appear on the other side of the trunk, where she starts the work of wedging a smaller rock in and under it.
When I feel some of the pressure lift off my arm, I sigh in relief. I never fully lost feeling, but it was like a hug that’s a little too tight. Constrictive and uncomfortable, but not causing bodily harm. Yet.
Belle returns, helping me to wriggle out of my little hole. I’m covered in dirt and sap, pine needles. When I turn around, Belle is standing there, glaring at me.
“You—” she starts, but I step forward, throwing my arms around her, breathing her in. She’s right. That could have been a lot worse than it was.
For a second, she stiffens, seeming to want to hold onto her rage, but then she loosens up and puts her arms around me, giving in. It seems to hit her at this moment that this whole situation could have beenreallybad — maybe she had been running on adrenaline to get me out quickly.
“Okay, okay,” she says, clearing her throat, rubbing at her face. “Now, we need to get home. Cheese is starving, and I couldn’t find her food.”
I came out early this morning, and the sun is only setting now. Some people have gone through things much worse than this — been stuck for much longer — but I feel like something has shifted inside me.
We start walking in the direction of my cabin, and I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if Belle hadn’t come across me; if she hadn’t seen Pete and beaten the truth out of him.
Honestly, I don’t even blame him. My sister is terrifying when she’s mad, which is evident in the way she so quickly figured out how to get me un-trapped.
Cheese is all over me, frantic and licking, when we open the door. I head off to the bathroom, stepping into the shower, where the hot water does little to ease the tension from my muscles. By the time I get out, wearing a fresh pair of sweatpants and a clean T-shirt, I’m feeling more like my old self.
