Page 126 of The Glass Girl

Suddenly Brandy calls out, “UNFAIR,” pointing to two huge, real tents on the edge of our campsite.

Phil and Tracy look at us likeSo what?,smiling away.

“Well,” Phil says, laughing. “I mean, if something does happen during the night to one of your fine homemade establishments, you can seek shelter with us. And you do have your own little tents, just in case.”

“I’m sure Bella will bunk with Josh if things get rough,” Charlotte chortles. “Or maybe even if they don’t.”

“Oh my god,” I say. “Shutup.”

Charlotte sticks out her tongue at me.

I don’t even want to look at Josh, because I’m a little ashamed that while we were hiking here, I did have some thoughts likeOh look a starry night in the wilderness what if we kissed,that sort of thing. Not gropey, just kind of soft and fantastic stuff.

“Sorry.” I finally look at him. “I’m sorry she’s a jerk sometimes.”

But he doesn’t look mad or embarrassed.

In fact, he has a weird expression on his face.

Like maybe he was thinking the same thing about me when we were walking.

I mean, it’s not going to happen, because if we got caught, we’d get in trouble.

I turn back to threading my mesquite rope.

And also…I don’t even know how to kiss anyone when I’m sober, because Dylan was my first kiss and I was buzzed when it happened then and most of the times after. What’s it like to kiss someone when you’re sober? How much did my buzz contribute to how great I thought our kisses were? Maybe they weren’t great after all.

I would, though, kind of like to find out if they would be.

What it’s like.

Without being drunk.

“Bella.” Tracy’s voice snaps me out of my reverie. I can feel a blush creeping across my face. Can she tell what I was thinking?

“Let’s get started on your fire, okay?” She pauses. “Are you all right? You look a little flushed.”

“I’m fine,” I say. “Totally fine. Ready for fire.”

—

Phil gathers us in a circle. He shows us how to use our knives to carve a V-shaped notch in the center of one branch and to cut a second small branch in a certain way to make something called a spindle. Then he says we need to find tinder, which is like tiny leaves, dried grass, and twigs, and shape it into something that looks like a small bird’s nest or bundle. He moves quickly, and it’s hard for me to follow. I wish I had something to take notes with, but I do the best I can.

It’s pretty hard to cut that V-shaped notch, which is small, with gloves on, so I take mine off, even though the temperature is dropping at a pretty speedy rate. I’m much better at finding the little things for the bundle. I’m pretty proud of my bundle.

And then it gets hard.

I hate this spindle. I’m trying to stick it into the notch in my wood, which is not a very good V, and I can’t get a good latch. It takes me several tries. I finally do, and then I start rubbing the spindle back and forth, over and over and over, between my hands.

Like,over and over and over.

Like, for years.

I cannot get a spark, and you need a spark to blow on so you can add a small dry piece of bark to catch fire and then transfer that shit to your little tinder bundle and hope like hell the flames catch and you have a tiny fire that you can make into a big fire with more branches and keep going for god knows how long.

That’s the plan, as far as I can tell, but it is not working forme.

My wrists are starting to ache from twisting this spindle.

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