Libby saw something move out of the corner of her eye.
“Ouch! Crap.”
They looked up just in time to see Peter’s brother, Adam, slip down the side of the boulder, dropping his expensive-looking camera in the process.
“What the . . . ?” Peter exclaimed.
They jumped away from each other as if guilty. Adam crouched at the bottom of the large boulder, checking his camera for damage.
“Adam, what the hell are you doing?” Peter yelled, their moment shattered.
“Looking for you, nimrod. Dad’s really pissed. You were supposed to be back an hour ago.”
“Damn,” Peter said under his breath.
Adam resumed his picture-taking, focusing on Libby and Peter.
“Stop it.” Peter reached for the camera. “Don’t make me break that thing.”
“Hey, I’ve got some great stuff here. This new lens is amazing. I’ve heard the paparazzi use this type, too. I got it all, Peter, including your nose hairs. You should really trim them.” Adam ducked out of Peter’s reach before he could get smacked.
“Libby, please excuse my ‘little’ brother. As you can see, he is an idiot.”
“Hi,” Libby said, mortified. Adam flashed her a huge grin.
“Adam here is going to hightail it back to the bus and tell them I’m on my way. That way, I won’t have to break his fingers. Right?” Peter stood and glared at his brother.
“Dad would be pretty ticked if you did that. Plus, who’d play lead for you, so you don’t go off-key all the time?”
“Libby, can you find me a rock? I need to throw it at Adam.”
“Jeez, you really know how to spoil a party,” Adam complained.
Peter faked a throw.
“I’m going, I’m going.” Adam turned and hurried down the trail, jumping from one large rock to another, occasionally looking back toward them and snapping another picture.
Peter turned to her. “I’m so sorry. My family is the worst. They drive me nuts.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” Libby smiled. She would give anything to have a family again. Especially one like his.
“We better get going. My dad hates to be kept waiting.”
They rushed back, covering the ground in a fraction of the time it took to get there. Peter took her hand often to help her over large boulders that blocked the path.
When they arrived at the break in the woods, the engine of the grand tour bus rumbled impatiently.
“This was great,” Libby said to Peter. She hated to see it end.
“Hey, we head back down to Chicago on Saturday. I can’t promise anything, but I bet I can talk my mom into a stop here. Any chance you could meet me? Can I call you?”
First excitement, then panic hit. Visions of Aunt Marge answering the phone filled her mind. “No, youcan’t call. I’m sorry.” She softened. “But I can be here. I’ll wait for you.”
“No phone, either, huh?” He winked. “It’ll probably be around lunchtime. I’m sorry I can’t give you an exact time.” He spoke fast, looking to the bus every few seconds. “I’ll meet you at that flat rock outcropping where I found you today.”
“I’ll be there.” She would wait all day if need be.
Anything for another chance to see Peter. “I’ve gotta run. Bye.”