26
After stopping off for more food on our way back to the Yellow Camp (pizza for Elliot, noodles for me) we finally reach the path that leads to my tent.
Hennie has also been alerted about our current whereabouts, and that we are planning to sleep in my tent together. Her replies come in rapid succession:
in your tiny tent??WEEEEEEE ok ok I hear ya
wow wowowow what a NIGHT
ok/
I will stomp home and check on you
if he takes advantage I will kill him
tell him that
!!!!!
And after a pause:
have you told him????
I chuckle at her garbled words. She must be more drunk than I am. In return I demand that she keeps me updated on her well-being, and I tell Elliot to ask the boys to chaperone her back to her tent safely.
Facing rows and rows of mismatched tents and gazebos, I realise that I’ve not yet been faced with the challenge of finding my tent in the dark without Hennie’s assistance. My sense of direction isn’t exactly my greatest asset, and unfortunately memorising a festival map on an iPhone app did not help me with this problem.
I hum thoughtfully to myself, considering where we should enter the endless sea of tents.
‘Please tell me you know where your tent is,’ Elliot drawls.
‘Of course I know where it is,’ I snap, confidently stepping forward to make my way around an enormous green tent that I feel like I recognise.
I lead the way for us both, darting around tent pegs and strings that threaten to topple me over for a second time. It feels like a bad decision partaking in what feels like a specific kind of night-time obstacle course after drinking. I’ve only had a few drinks this evening, but it’s still enough to make my limbs feel a little heavier and my brain power considerably slower.
We pass under another marquee crammed with camping chairs dispersed underneath it. Shit. Haven’t we already been here? My gaze darts back up to the hundreds of colourful tent tops finely dusted in moonlight. They are never-ending.
‘Are we lost, Nora?’ Elliot asks, sounding very amused.
‘Shut up, we’re notlost,’ I whisper back fiercely.
I glance at the tents around me, willing for any to strike me as familiar. With no luck, I veer to the left and hope for the best.
I hear Elliot pipe up behind me again. ‘Alright, if we’re still wandering aimlessly around at midnight, we’re going back to my tent.’
‘It’s just around here, stopfretting.’
To my astonishment, at that moment I see a striped tent that I definitelydorecognise. After turning a few corners and hopping over a cluster of camping chairs, I finally spot my dark blue tent tucked next to Hennie’s red one.
‘See? Here we go, all fine,’ I say proudly as we approach the entrance of my tent. It looks even smaller than I remembered.
I unzip it as quietly as I can before crawling inside and scanning the area for any mess I need to clear away for my unexpected guest.
Elliot’s head pops through the opening, his eyes wide. ‘You’re kidding. This is a two-man tent? As in… for twofully-grown people?’
‘Yes, I seem to remember warning you,’ I huff. ‘Or do you not recall? Have you suffered a blow to the head in the last hour?’
‘Someone’s quite snappy this evening,’ Elliot notes, warmth creeping into his voice.
