Clara paused. Was it really love? The higher she flew, the harder she’d crash if it wasn’t. Hank was as much an enigma as her emotions were. She knew nothing of him, other than his name and class. They’d met face-to-face only a few times. Infatuation, a crush, lust: they were all the same yet different. How did anyone make sense of it all? She certainly couldn’t.
Fingers tapped against the table. Hank was a hunk, but he was also late. The longer she waited the more she rationalized. Being apart wasn’t a good enough reason to change one’s mind about matters of the heart. Hormones had more sway over her control than she’d been willing to admit. Realizing the problem and stopping it were two different things, though. She couldn’t turn off emotions. The moment Hank showed up, she’d forget all about her doubts.
“Hey,” Hank said on cue. “Have you been waiting long?” He slid into the seat opposite her, grabbing her drink to take a sip.
“You’re late,” Clara pouted. “I have to go.”
Hank grabbed her arm, pulling her back to her seat. “Hang on,” he smirked. “I’m sorry. I was detained. I’m here now.”
He commanded. She answered. That wasn’t the best way to start a relationship. Clara’s face flushed red at the thought. Before that moment she’d all mental images of him had been in purely one-sided terms. “What do you want?” Her voice trembled.
“To talk,” Hank replied, releasing his grip on her arm. He fired off a wink capable of melting the rest of the ice cubes.
“About what?” Clara gazed down, unable to meet the intensity of his stare. “We could have chatted at school. It would have saved us both time.”
“Don’t be silly,” Hank chuckled. “This is where we all meet to hang out. Coming here will be second nature to you in no time.”
Her brain fogged, thoughts swirling. She’d been accepted as one of them even without the odd initiation. Maybe things would work out...
“We’ve planned the camping trip for Friday night,” Hank said, popping a stick of gum into his mouth. Even chewing made him look good.
“My parents...”
“No worries,” Hank interrupted. “Beth and Deb have you covered. By the time you go home, you’re parents will be begging you to accept the invitation for a sleepover. It’s all set. We have the gear and tents, too.”
“You’ll be coming?” Clara questioned, brow raised. “I thought this was some sort of bravery test.”
“We aren’t going to leave you defenceless in the woods,” Hank chuckled. “We’ll be nearby, just in case anything happens. I told you: we have all the bases covered. This isn’t my first rodeo.”
Outside the window, a squirrel frolicked in the sun, unaware of what was happening only feet away. If danger came—a hawk, a predator—there’d be enough time for her to chase it away. She’d be the same in the forest. For the first time ever, she wasn’t alone, someone else was looking out for her as well. All that concern and worry had been for no reason. The others weren’t going to let any harm befall her. She was safe.
Chapter 16
Hank wasn’t lying when he said Beth and Deb had everything under control. True to his word, the girls came up with an alibi worthy of fooling even her parents. The pair was rather ecstatic their little girl was invited to a sleepover—a wholesome bonding between females. It was odd for them to accept blindly what others said. Things would blow up quickly if they found out the truth. Of course, the odds of that happening were slim to none. Deb stayed home to make sure the evening ran smoothly. Luckily, she was the only one who wasn’t there.
Roughing it took coordination. She knew how to handle situations in her mind. She could visualize exactly the way she wanted to do things. Carrying out those plans was a different story, though. In reality, she had two left feet. Her mother claimed she grow out of it, the same way other parents’ treated baby fat. Unfortunately, that never happened. She was in high school so odds were it wasn’t going to. At least she’d been blessed with an analytical mind. That was more than others could say.
The instructions for putting up a tent might as well have been in the same language as her parents’ notes. Not a single word or picture made sense, any way she turned the paper. That alone wasn’t enough to stop her from trying. How hard could it be? The pegs lined up forming an even row on the ground, tent material lying flat. She eyed the long bendable rods, visualizing where each belonged.
“I figured you’d need some help,” Hank chuckled, leaning against the white bark of a poplar tree.
“What gave it away?” Clara asked, expressions fighting for territory on her face: happy, sad, frustrated, excited—she was feeling them all.
“I had a hunch,” Hank replied. “Being from a larger city, there probably weren’t many spots for camping. Here.” He took the pieces in her hands. “It’s simple, really. The rods hold it up. The pegs tie it down.”
Clara’s gaze alternated between the instructional diagrams and the finished product. In minutes, Hank managed to build something without so much as glimpsing at the directions. That was skill.
“You should be good to go,” Hank said, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Keep all the food in the cooler. You don’t want any stray critters sniffing about. It might not be meat, but animals are just as happy with chips. A fire might help, too. You can use some rocks to make a pit.”
“Are you leaving?”
“I’ll be back
