“We don’t know,” she says from inside. “That’s the truth, right? We don’t know if he’s coming back. Or if this is some kind of a test. So what can we do?”
Troy starts to sniffle.
“Oh Jesus,” says Will. “Pull it together.”
You expect Troy to wander away, or suffer in silence. But instead, he gets up and walks right over to Will, his skinny soaked frame only inches from Will’s muscular chest. He just kind of breathes in Will’s face for a moment, and Will tries not to look weirded out, but an uncomfortable smile betrays his true feelings.
“I’m just going to say this once to you,” says Troy.
Will blinks.
“Wake up.”
“Dude, seriously, if you don’t…”
“This is all really happening,” says Troy. “And you need. To. Wake. Up.”
Will steps slightly closer to him, and all of you are just waiting for this to jump the rails. It wouldn’t surprise you in the least if they fell on each other, screaming and flailing. Your money is on Will, but there’s a look in Troy’s eye that makes you wonder. For someone who needs a support animal, he doesn’t seem very scared right now.
You take advantage of the brief pause in their standoff to walk toward them. You put a hand on both of their shoulders. You’re hoping to ground them, but the contact doesn’t have the intended effect, and both of them try to jostle you out of the way at the same time. First Troy knocks into you with his shoulder, which sends you bumping into Will. Will bounces you back, and you trip, somehow sending all three of you to the ground. The back of your head glances off a rock, and when you put your hand over the spot, you feel the contours of a small cut.
“What the hell, guys?” you say.
“Hey!” says Diana.
“Nice going, Will!” says Troy. “Maybe you can help our situation with pure bro anger.”
“Guys…,” says Diana.
“You push like a NARP,” says Will. “Do you know that? That was the NARPiest push I’ve ever seen.”
“I think my head is bleeding,” you say.
“GUYS!” yells Diana, now right behind you. “SHUT UP AND GET IN THE TENT RIGHT NOW!”
Nobody moves until a flash of lightning forks through the sky above you, seemingly inches from the tops of the pines. It’s followed by the loudest thunder clap you’ve ever heard in your life. It sounds as if the sky itself is calving like a glacier. When you look up, a pitch-black cloud is moving toward you, casting a darkness the way a giant spaceship does in a UFO movie.
Within moments, you’re all in the tent, packed together, breathing one another’s morning breath and trying to zip the flap closed, like somehow, this little nylon pod in the middle of nowhere can keep you safe from whatever Mother Nature is about to unleash.
THIRTEEN
The rain picks up first. It pounds the tent in a flurry of punches, one blow after the next. Then the wind kicks in, screaming through the trees and sending the tent fluttering like a broken kite. If there weren’t five of you sitting on its floor, your flimsy shelter would be twenty feet up a tree right now. The lightning too is like nothing you’ve ever seen. It strobes in extended flashes, making any movements inside look like stop-motion animation. In the midst of everything, you are all speechless. There is no time to argue anymore; only time to huddle together and try not to die.
It seems so easy, all of a sudden, to be killed by an indifferent world. And in this moment, you wonder howanyoneis still alive. Outside, you hear the cracking of what sounds like a tree limb, and you brace for the impact you’re sure is coming. “Teen’s Head Crushed by an Enormous Branch,” the headline will read. “He Tried to Get Better at Life, and Life Destroyed Him with a Falling Tree.” You hear it crash to the ground somewhere else that’s not your body.
You close your eyes then, and you try your best to disappear.
And you keep your eyes closed. You’re not sure how long. Somebody is yelling. Someone else is crying. You can’t tell the voices apart. You only know that when the rain finally starts to ease up, your face is hot and covered in sweat. And you feelsomeone’s fingers gently pushing your hair around on the back of your head.
“I think it’s okay,” says Diana. “Not so bad, actually.”
Her voice is soft. You turn around, and her face is close to yours.
“What are you talking about?” you ask.
Your body is pulsing with adrenaline.
“Your cut.”
