Page 47 of Past Tents

I got up from the rock where I’d been perched for the past hour and stretched my legs. They felt creaky and hike-weary. Normally, sleeping on the ground after a good hike was my favorite thing in the world. Tonight, I was riddled with anxiety.

I felt my heart hammering in my chest, and I knew it wasn’t in delighted anticipation of inhaling the mountain air as I slept. It was in nervous anticipation of inhaling Ally’s citrus shampoo in close quarters and pretending it didn’t affect me.

Shuffling over to an area where I’d piled up some loose dirt, I scooped a handful and brought it back to the fire. Before I could dump it on the flames, Ally stopped me. “Do you have to put it out? Can I sit a while?”

“Oh. Sure. I figured you were tired.”

She shrugged. “A little tired, but it’s only ten, so I doubt I’ll fall asleep. I’d rather hang out here a bit longer.” In the darkness, I couldn’t see her face well enough to notice a crease in her brow or other signs that would show she felt a similar trepidation about sharing a tent.

She probably didn’t. She was a mature adult who knew that two colleagues could take one for the team and sleep in close quarters without it being a big deal. I needed to get out of my head.

I let the dirt sift through my fingers onto the ground and sat back on my rock across from her. It took every bit of self-control not to edge closer, and I mentally berated myself for not taking better advantage of this same situation a week earlier when we didn’t have twenty teenagers roaming around aware of our every move.

It didn’t take a crack detective to pick up on the gossip that roamed the halls at school. If students so much as saw a pair of teachers showing anything other than purely professional affection, the rumor mill blazed to life.

Last year, Witty had the poor judgement to stand in the lunchroom line behind Rosalie and use a plastic fork to comb her hair. Instead of swatting him away, Rosalie laughed, and by the end of the day, half the student body was convinced they were having a fling. Episodes like that taught me long ago to keep my hands—and my forks—to myself or risk a public outing of feelings I didn’t know I had.

Except now, the feelings were real and I’d spent much of the day avoiding being too close to Ally for fear of exposing myself.

The flames licked at the remains of the logs and lit up her face in pinks and oranges.

“Today was a good day, don’t you think?” She leaned forward to warm her hands, holding them open in front of the flames.

“I’m just happy you’re not miserable. There’s a big difference between camping in my yard and coming up here.”

“Yeah, two dozen teenagers. How do you ever get them to quiet down and go to sleep?”

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves on the trees and blew a few strands of Ally’s hair loose. She swatted at them to tame them. I ached to scoot closer to her and tuck the strands behind her ear. But I did nothing except watch her in the dim light, hoping the darkness would hide the evidence of my thoughts.

“They’re more tired than they realize. They’ll have fun making a commotion in the tents for a while, but eventually, they’ll drop.Just wait. Something happens after an hour or two and suddenly it’s dead silent.”

She cupped a hand around her ear and listened. “Yeah, not yet. Not at all.”

“Patience, grasshopper.”

I should have been telling myself the same thing. Tonight would be fine. I needed to relax and stop worrying about the future.

“So tell me more about Jayne,” I said quietly, glancing behind me to make sure we were really alone. “I didn’t get a heads-up from the school counselor about depression. Is it a new issue for her?”

“Oh, I don’t think it’s new. She’s been struggling with it for a while, but she manages it with meds.”

She didn’t look pointedly at me when she said it, and I almost wondered if she’d forgotten what I’d told her after she’d crashed on the track. Shehadhit her head.

“How’s it going for you?” she asked with quiet concern, like a friend. Like it wasn’t a source of constant anguish for me as I resisted my doctor’s advice to up my meds.

“It’s going okay, thanks.”

I’d looked away, so I didn’t notice that she’d moved closer until she bumped my hip with hers. “Hey, no pat answers. I’m asking for real.”

Exhaling a lungful of mountain air, I realized how few people cared enough to ask, and that was my fault for not letting people in. “It’s been up and down since my grandmother died. Lately, I’ve...struggled a bit more.”

“She was your person in this, huh?”

I nodded. “She understood. I guess I haven’t looked to find someone else who does. My fault.”

“I could be that person, you know. I am your friend and I’m here. So just, you know, talk when you want to talk.”

Even if I’d wanted to talk, I couldn’t have, due to the sudden lump in my throat. Barely able to swallow over it, I simply nodded.

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