Page 3 of Chosen By The Grizzly

“This is it?” I demand.

Uncertainty flickers in Lindsay’s eyes, but then she clasps her hands and exclaims in her loud, chipper voice, “isn’t thisgreat? Just me and my best girlfriends, out in nature.”

My frustration and exhaustion roll into a big ball of anger.

“Lindsay, we could’ve gotten the same effect if we’d camped right by the parking lot. What the hell are we doing out here?”

“Don’t be such a party-pooper, Callie. We’re getting back to basics.” She eases her backpack off her shoulders and it hits the ground with a thunk. “Disconnecting.” She pulls out her phone. “C’mon. Selfie.”

Instantly, the other three quit looking bedraggled, and they rush over to Lindsay, shoving their tits toward the camera and grinning like they’re having the best day of their entire lives.

Remember the mantra, I tell myself:In less than three days, this will all be over.

But, by the time I’ve joined then, Lindsay has already snapped the photo, and she’s shoving her phone back in her pocket.

“Don’t worry, Callz, there’ll be other opportunities later,” she tells me, in that patronizing tone of hers that makes me want to slap her.

Whatever.

“We’d better put the tents up before it gets dark,” I say. I pull my tent out of its bag and lay it on the ground. Earlier today, I downloaded some step-by-step instructions on how to put it up. Doesn’t look too hard. At least, it wouldn’t be if I wasn’t so darn tired right now.

“Wanna give me a hand, Madison?” I call, since she’s nearest. But she wanders away from me, occupied with something very important on her phone.

Okay. Like I always say, I’m not a team player. I work best by myself.

Ten minutes later,I’m… done. I stare at my tent in amazement. It’s perfectly upright. All the ropes are connected to all the pegs. When I give it a shove, it bounces right back. It looks like it might even survive some inclement weather. I walk around it slowly. Sothisis how camping works. It’s a portable little home, out in the wilderness. Kinda awesome. I feel a little bit proud of myself. With more enthusiasm than I’ve felt on the trip so far, I start hauling my stuff out of my backpack and arranging it inside the tent. I lay out my sleeping bag and inflatable pillow, then check my portable lantern is working. Honestly, it’s so darn cozy in here. I’ve got a bag of trail mix and a packet of deer jerky. I could just zip the flaps shut, have a little solo dinner, and fall asleep reading my Kindle—

“Argghh!” A high-pitched scream breaks through my reverie.

I burst out of the tent, eyes darting everywhere.

In the middle of the clearing, Ashley is doing a manic dance, skinny limbs thrashing while she shrieks and slaps herself all over.

“Is she having a seizure?” I yell, charging toward her, arms outstretched. I’m not sure what I’m planning to do. But I’ve gotta dosomething. Everyone else is just standing around, watching.

“Fucking mosquitoes!” Ashley squeals.

Ohh.I plant my hands on my hips and burst out laughing.

“It’s not funny, goddamnit. They’re eating me alive!”

I dart back to my tent, grab my can of Cutter Backwoods and start spraying. I’m barely done blasting Ashley, when Brittany grabs it out of my hand and douses her legs with it.

“You should wear long pants and a long-sleeved shirt in the evenings,” I say, eyeing four sets of bare, fake-tanned limbs. “This is when mosquitoes are most active.”

“Huh? Oh—” Madison looks down at her skimpy outfit, then curls her lip at me. “Well, I guess I didn’t bring anylong-sleeved shirts.” She imitates me in a tight-assed voice.

I shrug. “Get eaten alive then. See if I give a crap.”

I stalk over to Lindsay. She’s wrestling with the other tent. “Let me help,” I tell her. She steps back with a shrug, and I get to work.

In a few more minutes, I’m done. A large, yellow tent is standing on the opposite side of the clearing from mine.

“Thanks, sis,” she says in an artificially bright voice.

I slide her a suspicious glance. She’s definitely up to something. Every last one of them hates being here, but they still seem kinda pumped. They keep showing each other their phone screens and whispering excitably about some dude called Jason Trentino, whoever he is.

Whatever. As long as I’ve done my sisterly duty, I’m good.

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