Josh sees Pen’s car and pulls Eitan toward it, presumably so they can unload.
I scramble out of the car and try to grab my bag before anyone else can—and thus avoid any awkward, unnecessary interactions—but the trunk is locked.
While I wait for Pen to open it, I’m smack dab in Eitan’s path.
I examine my thumbnails, trying to look busy. Nonchalant. Effervescent.
Someone clears their throat. “It will be easier to unload the car if you’re not standing in the way,” Eitan says. His first words to me in two weeks.
“I can get my own bag.”
“It’s no problem,” he says, stiff but polite. He reaches around me and begins unloading bags.
I step back and try to calm my heart down. Frustration swells in my throat. It’s not upsetting, I inform myself, because there was nothing between us to ruin. We shared a few moments and one kiss. That’s all. If there was a friendship that spoiled, it wasshort-lived anyway. Why would someone like Eitan want to be friends with a stormcloud in the shape of a girl?
Nothing gained, nothing lost.
A white van with a large logo of a map and thick letters spellingOUTVENTURESpulls into the campsite, honking like it’s in a one-car parade.
The driver door bursts open, and a tall, skinny, scraggly man hops out in a green flannel, Oakleys, and a buff.
“Howdy!” The man jogs toward us. “The name’s Randy. But everyone calls me Skip. I’m your Outventures trip leader.” He jerks a proud thumb at his chest. Randy/Skip appears to be mid-forties, and looks way too eager to be in the woods. He shakes every single person’s hand and tries to remember names.
“If I begin calling him Skip, it’s a cry for help,” I mutter to Eitan. I don’t even get a whisper of a chuckle.
Andres and Deep catch sight of me and give a polite wave. Once Pen’s trunk is unloaded, and the bags are deposited in the same pile as everyone else’s luggage, Eitan walks away.
With Eitan successfully avoided, I have to come to terms with the fact that for all the work that’s gone into the wedding, the original goal of getting closer with this group has been largely stagnant. Loneliness tingles in my joints.
Suppose it’s not that different from how it feels when I’m home.
Except, here, I can have a breakdown in the woods. I walk to the edge of the trees that line the campsite, stretching my arms above my head. The oxygen content in the air feels like double what it is in the city. Instead of the heady aroma of exhaust and pee and trash, it smells like pine and wet earth. Fluffy blankets of clouds roll and unfurl overhead, and leaves crinkle in a breeze, a few detaching from their branches. They flash sunshine yellow and bright crimson, the colors truer than the concrete-shrouded city trees. The birds and insects and forest creatures rustle andhum and scuttle in the background. Being alone out here feels less lonely.
“Hey, Ruby!” Pen calls me, her silver metallic nails flashing as she waves. “C’mere.” She’s on the other end of the campsite, the one that borders the river. I trudge toward her, taking my time, wanting to make her wait.
When I get closer, she uncaps a fat marker between us. “I want to write something inspirational on our backs and take a topless photo.”
My hands curl around my shirt. “I’m not really?—”
“You know, something like ‘Check your boobs,’ or ‘Mammogram Life.’”
“I don’t get mammograms.” I frown. “I don’t have boobs anymore.”
“Come on. I’ll tag you and you’ll probably getloadsof follows.” Penelope grabs my shirt and begins lifting it. Suddenly, a sweat is breaking out on my skin.
“I—don’t?—”
“It will be so cool! It’s for breast cancer awareness. Don’t you care about that?”
“Yes, of course I do?—”
“It’s not the same if it’s justmedoing it—” She’s still holding my shirt edge, and I realize I’m not wearing a bra. If she actually manages to lift my shirt, she’ll see my chest. No one’s seen it since my surgery besides Grant and my mom, and only one of those people was genetically obligated to still love me after.
When my chest is hidden beneath my clothing, it’s easy to pretend it doesn’t exist.
“I’m not—that’s not something I?—”
“What’s going on?” Eitan stomps toward us. I use the distraction to step away from Penelope.
