I head inside the tent, signaling to Jasper that I’ll grab some food then join him. Once again I load my plate with the most ridiculously delicious-smelling food—today it’s pork chops, coleslaw, green beans, and mash—then plonk myself down across from Jasp.
“Hey,” I say when he doesn’t greet me but instead stares at me like there’s something on my face.
“Hey,” he grunts.
“Still no info about your mom?” I ask, assuming that’s the reason he’s in a sulky mood.
“Tomas wasn’t even at the school today. Good news is the roof is up. Should just be a day or two more until the whole thing is finished.”
“At least you can say you’ve accomplished something while you’ve been here.”
His expression softens a little. “Still no luck accessing your blood-wolf powers?”
“Nada.”
“That sucks.”
For a moment we sit quietly, neither of us touching the piles of food in front of us.
“Maybe they overestimated—”
“I don’t want to leave yet,” I interject before he can finish his sentence. “Yoki is going to figure out what’s blocking me and then—”
“What if nothing is blocking you?” he asks, sounding more irritated than I’d like. “What if they’re just saying that to keep us here.”
“Jasper, do you really think that’s what they’re up to? If they wanted to hold us prisoner they would just lock us up. They’re trying to help.”
“And Omar? Is he just trying to help?”
I reel back, pressing my shoulder blades into the chair behind me. He can’t be serious.
“Omar is Yoki’s apprentice. He’s learning how to be in touch with his spiritual self. What’s your problem with him?”
Jasper doesn’t say anything. He shoots me a glare then picks up his fork and moves the unwanted salad around on his plate.
“Jasper, don’t you trust me?” I ask, keeping my voice low so the tables around us can’t hear. “After all this time. Everything we’ve been through. Don’t you…?”
He drops his fork and sighs. “Of course I trust you, Max. It’s not that. It’s…” He looks around and I realize what the issue is.
“It’s them. You don’t trust them.”
“I don’t trust him,” Jasper says, all too petulantly.
“Omar is helping me.” I reach out and place my hand on top of Jasper’s. “That’s all.”
“We’ll see.”
I pull my hand back and stare at Jasper, who’s biting his lip and scowling.
“You know what? I’m not hungry anymore.”
Before he can say anything else, I’m shoving my chair back and stomping from the lunch tent.
A couple of hours later I’m sitting on the rug in our tent, legs crossed beneath me, trying to meditate. My hands are resting on my knees, palms open to the pointed ceiling, my eyes squeezed shut. I keep trying to accept the intrusive thoughts darting into my mind, to acknowledge them and let them pass the way Yoki showed me. But I can’t. They keep coming in an angry swirl and I find myself only getting more riled up.
Why is Jasper so incapable of trusting? Why is he determined to hate the rogues when they’ve done nothing to hurt him? Why can’t he let go of the past and accept the moment he’s in? Why can’t I?
“Hey,” Jasper says, his voice piercing through and breaking the negative spiral. “You mind if I come in?”
