Page 29 of Sass in the Grass

“I guessed that.”

“I’ve still got water, if you need it.”

He had thrown the apple core into the weeds, and his thirst sated for the moment. “I’m okay right now.”

“Cool. Listen, I’m going to get more firewood and look a little more. Can you keep the fire going?”

“How do I do that?”

Staring at him like he’d grown another head, Alan asked, “Did you hear anything Coach said?”

“No, okay! I didn’t!”

After holding up both hands to him, Alan said, “Okay, don’t get mad.”

“Sorry. I’m…I’ve felt attacked since I got to camp.”

“Really? Everyone is so nice.”

Scoffing, Jovian said, “To you, maybe. No one is every very nice to me.”

Alan sat on the log he’d pulled near the fire and asked cautiously, “Jovian, now, don’t take this wrong, but are people mean to you because you’re not all that friendly with them?”

After a shrug, he asked, “Why should I be? I will not be nice to people that aren’t nice to me. They’re all jealous of me.”

Alan nodded a little as he sighed. “Right. Well, maybe just try to be…a little nicer. See if maybe, just maybe, people will take kindlier to you.”

“Take kindly? What are you from the eighteenth century?”

“That saying is more nineteenth century, but there is a perfect example. Did you have to say that, and in the tone you said it?”

Not seeing a thing wrong with what he’d said, Jovian asked, “What tone?”

“Never mind. I’m gonna head to get more wood. All you have to do is set more wood on the fire to keep it going. Not a lot. We don’t want to use all our wood before tonight, when we really need it.”

“I think I can handle it,” Jovian replied snidely, and watched Alan walk off, flipping him the bird as soon as he was gone.

“These people think they’re so good and kind. Well, so what?”

The bottle of water that Alan had offered sat on the rock near Alan’s backpack. He’d drank all his like he’d have a ton more, but there weren’t white bags behind every stone.

The faces of those people, all the people at the camp, every single time he was being himself…

A rogue tear escaped his eye and trickled down his face, letting him know things were not fine. As much as he tried to convince himself they were. The people at the camp were nice to him. And he’d…said mean things, ignored them, tried to get someone to fuck him, when all Dixon wanted was to teach him how to survive.

More tears came as he slapped at them, and he pulled Alan’s backpack over, ready to toss it in the fire, knowing the only way to stop hurting was to hurt someone else. Ci had taught him that long ago. If a guy dumps you, jump on the next one fast to get over the asshole. If someone hurt you, hurt them back harder. Well, taking his blanket and whatever small bit of food he had been given, that would hurt him.

But Alan hadn’t really hurt him. Alan had been nothing but nice to him.

The tears kept coming, but they stopped completely when the backpack was yanked from his grasp and a raspy, deep voice accused, “You’re not stealing his stuff on my watch.”

Chapter Nine

“I…Iwasn’t!”

Dixon’s face was red with anger, and he slid the backpack over his shoulder. “No? What were you doing with it?”

There was no good explanation, so he stayed silent, which wasn’t a great idea.

---