She swats my arm playfully like she did earlier, when we were talking. I like it more than I should.
“Yesit fell on me, Thorn! Don’t laugh!” Despite her best efforts, my laughter is contagious, and now we’re both trying to stifle it. “I woke up thinking I was drowning—but it was just the tent on my face. I think the wind tore one of the pegs out of the ground, maybe?”
I bite back a smile. “Well, my first instinct was bears—”
“Bears?!” she practically shrieks, ripping through the silent night.
I hold up a finger to her lips.
Please, please, let the rest of the camp not wake up in a panic over the nonexistent bears.
“Bears?” Sadie repeats in a whisper-hiss. “I was under the impression that bears weren’t athinghere. The website explicitly said ‘lowest risk of bear encounters in all of the Sierras.’?”
“There’s always a risk of bears,” I whisper back, shrugging. “Low risk isn’tnorisk. But I haven’t seen one personally—and the people who have say they’re mostly interested in food, not people-as-food.”
“That is only mildly comforting, Thorn.”
“Try to forget about the bears,” I say. “Really, itshouldbe comforting since I’ve spent more nights out here than in my own bed at home over the last six years. If anyone would have seen one out here, it’s me. And I haven’t.”
This, I think, finally works.
I move over to inspect the fallen tent. She’s right about the peg being torn from the ground—it’s the one she was having trouble with before dinner. I should have checked it later, made sure it was secure. Given the high winds, it’s no wonder it ripped right out.
Unfortunately, that’s not all that ripped: the tent itself is torn clean through, a long gash in the fabric.
“What’s the damage?” Sadie asks.
“Definitely not salvageable tonight,” I reply. Possibly not at all.
I’ll have to remember to ask Danica to bring a new tent along with the fresh batch of food when we meet up for a restock later this week—but until then, one of us will have to go without.
I make a snap decision. “You should sleep in my tent tonight.”
She smirks. “Thanks for the invitation, but I’m not sure we know each other well enough yet forthat.”
“Wha—Oh.” I see, now, what I implied. “I was thinking you could take my tent and I could sleep out here.”
“With the bears?”
I laugh. “I thought I told you to forget about the bears.”
She sighs dramatically. “I tried. But yeah, no, that didn’t work.”
I bend down to examine the carcass of her tent. “Your stuff will be good in here until morning—just grab your pillow and sleeping bag and I’ll move mine out to make room.”
“You’re sure you don’t mind sleeping out in the open?”
I grin. “I’ve done it countless times before. It’ll be okay.”
“What about tomorrow night?”
I take a deep inhale. I’m quickly learning that Sadie loves a plan and hates not having all the answers at once.
“That’s for our tomorrow selves to worry about,” I reply with calm confidence. “Let’s get through tonight and go from there.”
She looks like she’s debating asking another question, but in the end, her trust in my answer wins out over her desire to know every single detail.
“Here,” she says. In one fluid motion, she pulls her eye mask off and offers it to me. “You’re going to need this more than I will when the sun comes up.”
