Page 56 of Past Tents

“I hear you, Cash, but this stuff is mandated by the district, so we have to do it,” I replied.

“I don’t want some dude catching me like a fainting princess or some shit.” Cassius looked at the other guys in an attempt at solidarity. There were some general mumbles of agreement.

“Language, Cash,” Ally reprimanded for the fifteenth time on this trip.

“Sorry.”

“I can make him do it,” Ally whispered to me. It was the closest she’d been all day, given that we were spread far apart during the hike. The small stolen glances would have to do for now.

“Hey, Cash, come here. You too, Miles.” Ally beckoned them with her index finger, pointing to a spot in front of her.

They looked at each other, shrugged, and sauntered over while the other students watched. The breeze made its way through the overhead branches and rippled the leaves on the white oak trees.

Ally inhaled a fortifying breath and turned back to the two rabble-rousers in our group. “Cash, if you were on the football field during an important play, you wouldn’t drop the ball, right?”

“’Course not.” He crossed his arms, seeming unsure where she was headed with this, but I already knew. She was brilliant with these kids, knew just how to handle their insecurities and attitudes.

Turning to Miles, she asked, “And if you were making a key tackle, you wouldn’t feel weird about touching a guy, correct?”

Both of their expressions shifted at the same time as they figured out her angle. “Fine,” Cash muttered.

“We’ll do the trust thing,” Miles agreed.

Ally had them go first, clearly knowing that if she put them in key positions as “leaders,” they’d eat it up. Inside of an hour, we had every kid falling backward into the arms of a fellow student. Trust achieved. Sharing a tent with Ally an hour nearer. Level unlocked.

All in all, it was one of my more successful senior retreats. Other than Jayne’s flu, we’d had no mishaps and I could tell the students were eating up the lessons learned in the wilderness. But man, if ever a person wanted to slow down the pace of time to a syrupy crawl, this was it—standing ten yards away from the woman I’d been dreaming about for half my life was making my body burn with need.

“How’s it going?” Ally delivered three students to where I was getting ready to build tonight’s campfire. “We have some willing fire builders.”

Our eyes only connected for seconds before one of the girls took over the conversation. “I saw an area at the end of our hike with big chunks of firewood. If we use those, we won’t have to collect as many logs.”

“I told her it might take longer to get the bigger pieces to ignite, but you’re the fire whisperer,” Ally said, moving off before she’d finished her sentence and causing a dull ache to lodge in my chest. “So you should take it from here.”

“So can we? Use the bigger logs?” the girl asked.

I tore my gaze away from Ally’s retreating form as I drew my attention back to the students. “Sure, let’s give it a go. I have a trick with kindling that will help.”

When I looked up again, Ally was over by the tents in the distance. I let my gaze linger on her for an extra moment before exhaling my surrender and bending down to collect more kindling.

Every time we got close enough to each other for me to graze her hand with my palm, there would be some new issue that needed our attention. It would have been comical if it wasn’t killing me slowly.

A couple hours later, after cooking dinner over a healthy-sized campfire, I looked around and saw that all the students were occupied making s’mores, so I sidled up to where Ally was stacking the clean camp dishes.

“I just want a moment alone with you. Is it me, or does it seem like the sun isn’t setting until midnight tonight?” I asked quietly, eyes on the students to make absolutely sure they weren’t looking. No one was paying any attention to us.

She laughed. That gorgeous uninhibited laugh that I could listen to for days. “We’re just talking. We’re allowed to talk without anyone thinking it’s weird.” All the same, her eyes scanned the students too.

With barely any motion, I reached for her hand, entangling our fingers. Just that small bit of contact would get me through the next few hours.

At the same time, we noticed Miles had lit a stick on fire and was holding it up like a torch. We both sprang to our feet. “Hey, not okay,” I said, Ally on my heels.

We spent the next twenty minutes lecturing everyone about fire safety. The feel of her hand in mine lost to our chaperoning duties. But every time I snuck a look in her direction, she seemed to sense it, glancing back my way if for only a moment.

“Okay, kids, time to wrap it up,” I said at ten on the dot. They’d spent an hour longer than I’d planned competing in a group sing down of songs that had to have the wordblackin the title. Then it switched tofire. They’d have gone on and on if I hadn’t forced them to go to the tents. And even that took an extra hour by the time everyone got their teeth brushed, and I still heard them squealing over pranks and talking over each other.

And just when I thought I could finally have a moment alone with Ally, she dashed over to check on Jayne. “My turn with her tonight. See you soon, roomie.” Then, she looked back at me and winked.

Who knew a wink was something I’d feel in my soul?

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