Studying me, Leisel’s head canted to one side. “Is that really how you see yourself? Because the person you project to the world is very different from the man you just described.”
Running my hands through my hair, I fought for calm. I was really out of practice when it came to social etiquette, that much I’d realized right off the bat. But my problems in camp weren’t simply faulty social skills. I wasn’t used to not being in charge; neither was I accustomed to dealing with anyone other than Lucas or Willow. And I definitely wasn’t used to being scolded and treated as if I were a misbehaving child.
“I get it,” I ground out. “I’m angry. But I don’t know what you expect me to do about it. I can’t just not be angry anymore; it’s not a faucet I can just turn off.”
“You don’t need to turn it off. Being angry isn’t the enemy—it’s where that anger goes when it’s of no more use to you. Or in your case, where it doesn’t go.”
“So what then? What the fuck am I supposed to do?”
Leisel shrugged. “Talk to someone. Tell someone how you’re feeling and why. It’s okay to be vulnerable sometimes, you know? It’s at least better than the alternative.”
“Which would be detonating,” I replied flatly.
“Precisely,” she replied, clasping her hands together. Turning to go, she paused. “Oh, and one more thing.
“There are no free rides here, Logan—everyone in camp has to contribute. It’s the only way this place works. If you and Willow are going to continue on with us, then you’re both going to have to start pulling your weight. I know Willow is still on the mend, but I think you’re more than capable of working, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yeah, definitely.” My hands were mostly healed; I was well fed and well rested and feeling healthier and stronger than I had in years. If staying here meant I’d have to work then I damn sure would be getting to work.
“Great—I’ll talk with Joshua and see where he wants you. Are you any good with tools?”
“I’m a fast learner,” I said. “Did some electrical and plumbing work growing up, some roofing too.”
“A jack-of-all-trades.”
“Not me,” I told her, shaking my head. “My dad—only he was usually too drunk to finish the job.”
Again, Leisel tilted her head to one side, studying me in a way that was starting to become very unnerving. And very fucking annoying.
“How old are you?” she finally asked.
The question caught me off guard. I opened my mouth to answer, only to close it when I realized I didn’t know the answer. “Do you know what year it is?”
Leisel told me the date and I quickly counted. “Twenty-five,” I replied slowly. “No, wait—I’m twenty-six. I turned twenty-six in… April.”
It felt strange to think about my age, and even stranger to think about the birthday that had passed by without any recognition, not even my own. Birthdays were among the long list of frivolous things I’d stopped concerning myself with many years ago.
“The beard makes you look older,” Leisel mused. “And what about Willow—how old is she?”
I sighed, “Twenty-three, almost twenty-four.”
“So you were just kids then.”
“When the world ended?” I snorted. “I guess so.”
She smiled faintly. “The world didn’t end.”
Cocking an eyebrow, I muttered, “You sure about that?”
Leisel turned to leave again, still smiling over her shoulder. “We’re still here, aren’t we?”
