Part 24 (1/2)

”My parents. They're psychologists,” she said, flattening the word.

”And they sent you here?” It seemed like there were way better places they could send her. Way better places.

”When your kid won't talk and you make your living talking, I guess it freaks you out enough to get drastic.”

”Here is drastic,” I said.

”No-here,” she said, patting the ground below us, ”is drastic.”

”It's not so bad,” I said.

”You don't have to lie to me,” she said.

I knew she wouldn't believe me. I was learning that Troyer was wise in ways I hadn't yet realized. ”I know,” I said, ”I guess I'm kind of lying to myself.”

”When you're ready to tell me, you will,” she said. I could tell she was talking about more than me being out here alone. She was talking about everything.

If it was anyone else I would have scrunched up into an angry ball and told them I would never f.u.c.king be ready to tell them anything, but for some reason I couldn't say that to Troyer-having her offer to listen, I felt a wash of relief.

She stood up and grabbed something out of her pocket, putting it in my palm. ”Here,” she said.

It was a pack of matches: so small, so flammable, so my pilfered cigarettes' BFFs.

”Where did you get these?”

”It's better if you don't know,” Troyer said, standing. Then she sort of bowed and walked into the woods. I watched the back of her white-blond head moving back toward camp, a ghost floating in the trees.

I looked at the matches. I could smoke whenever I wanted. I could start a fire if I dared to. I could do anything. One thing I'd learned in my time here was that in the wilderness, fire was power.

But beyond that, Troyer would listen when I was ready. Even without the matches, she had given me power.

4 f.u.c.king Days Left I woke up to the sound of rustling leaves and cracking branches outside my tent.

Ben.

I didn't know what time it was, but the absence of light and the sound of only crickets and owls aside from Ben's boots let me know that as far as time was concerned, we had progressed past midnight and into the next day. I would take that. It meant I was hours away from not having to be by myself anymore.

I unzipped the tent and stepped into the night before Ben could say anything. I wondered why. It wasn't like me, and I felt like a total a.s.shole, but it's tough to play hard to get when you've been in solitary confinement for the last ten hours.

”You came back,” I said, my mouth, along with my body, doing stupid, girlie things that made me feel like an a.s.shole. Rawe was right: being in solitude was changing me. It was turning me into a total drooling dork.

”I told you I would,” he said, his flashlight buzzing past me and over the inside of the tent like an angry bee. ”Where's my pack?”

”It's inside,” I said, pointing behind me.

His flashlight finally landed on his pack and he reached around me to pick it up.

”Do you need to get back or something?” I asked. He seemed anxious, which was my only guess as to why, unless Nez had poisoned him with the terrible truth about me.

He reached inside his pack, like he was trying to make sure everything was there.

”I didn't steal anything, if that's what you're worried about,” I said. I thought about the note in his a.s.sessment Diary, I knew you liked me. It made me step back from him.

Maybe when he got here he was expecting me to jump into his arms and say, I do like you, I do. Maybe that's what he was all worked up about, but I didn't think any amount of solitude would bring me there, even if I was sort of thinking it.

Ben pulled out his notebook and shook it at me. ”Did you read this?”

”No,” I said, probably too quickly.

”I would have read yours,” he said, balancing the notebook in his hand, his lips turning up at the corners.

There was his smile.

”Well, I'm not you,” I said, not giving in that easily.

”You did,” he said, moving his face closer to mine. ”I can tell.”

”How?” I laughed. Having him that close made my neck feel hot. Made my hands feel cold. ”Did you memorize the way the pages were folded over?”

”No,” he said, ”it's the way you're looking at me. The way you acted when I first got here. You're being nice to me.” He tilted his head back like he'd figured something out, like he'd figured me out.

I felt my whole body tense. I had been nice to him. I had wanted to see him. ”Oh, so that's why you were acting like a d.i.c.k,” I said, hoping he didn't notice that I paused before I said it.

”I was acting like you usually do,” he said. ”So yeah.” He smiled. ”I guess that makes me a d.i.c.k.”

”Seriously, Ben, f.u.c.k you,” I said, keeping my arms tight at my sides, afraid if I moved them I might touch him. ”I'm not being nice to you.”

”You were. For you, that was nice,” he said.

He was right, but there was no way in h.e.l.l I was about to admit it. ”By the way, you didn't let me win anything. I beat you. I know it's hard for your macho brain to accept.”

He smirked; the realization that I had seen his note made him stand inches taller.

”Like it's hard for your macho brain to accept that you like me,” he said, stepping closer, so close that I could feel the heat off his skin. ”That I like you.”

Words caught in my throat. I looked out into the woods behind him. The trees were like black skeletons in the dark.

He was still so close to me. ”I think you owe me a secret.”

I looked at him. If Nez had gotten to him he already knew my secret-the only secret that mattered. There was nothing I could tell him that would surprise him, except maybe that I did like him. But considering he was within millimeters of me and still had both his b.a.l.l.s, that might not be a secret at all.

”I don't owe you s.h.i.+t,” I said, my lips tight.

”If you don't want to tell me, you can show me your notebook,” he said. He pointed at the tent. ”I know it's in there.”

”Forget it,” I said, strengthening my stance, letting him know the only way he was getting into my tent was in a body bag. There was no chance I would show him my notebook. I had been stupid and had put everything into it. Had vomited my words all over it, the things I wanted to keep from everyone and the one thing I was still denying to him. That I did like him. Even if he had all the evidence he needed that it was true.

”I can stay up all night,” he said, walking over and sitting against the tree we'd slept under the night before.

The tree. The place where I entertained visitors out here in the middle of nowhere.