I have to fix this. The chasm of space that’s formed between us breaks a small part in me. I thought I was really getting through to him, getting close, and then I’m thrown back to the beginning.
How can I make this better? A distraction of some sort. That should allow the rising tide of emotions to ebb away into oblivion.
“My little group of college friends and I were all pretty close,” I start, staring up at the starry night sky for strength.
Thinking back to the time before my accident always makes my throat get a little tight. But what better way to break the tension and distract him from his own pain than to tell him a story?
“During breaks, we’d frequently travel to camp in off the grid locations. It was always a lot of fun. Eugene was always getting up to some sort of shenanigans on the trips, and half the fun was trying to figure out what it was. One trip to the Blue Ridge Mountain area, he got his hands on ‘the strongest weed his cousin had ever heard of.’” I use finger quotes on Eugene’s words.
I can’t help chuckling thinking of some of the stuff he got up to. Probably shouldn’t mention the time Eugene dropped acid and then woke me up with my dick in his mouth. He didn’t have an ounce of shame about it, either. Seeing as he was supposedly a straight man, I expected a lot more freaking out, but he just shrugged it off. He was good like that. Never let anything keep him down for too long.
Fuck, I miss those guys.
Clearing my throat, I remember I was mid-story with Adriel and totally lost track of time.
“You don’t have to share your story if it brings you pain,” Adriel says sweetly.
“It’s not that,” I say, shaking my head. “I haven’t seen them since…” my voice trails off and my fingers absently run along the scars on my wrist. “It’s been a while.”
Adriel nods like he understands completely. Of course he would. He’s trapped here in the woods, cursed. And, here I am, complaining about missing my friends who are only a phone call away.
“Anyway,” I continue, trying to get back on track. “We were in the middle of the woods, and Eugene started rolling the joint badly, so my other friend, Sera, took his stash and rolled them. He then whined that we were no fun when none of us wanted to join him. So we just ignored him, focusing on roasting our marshmallows and talking about nothing particular around the fire.
“What are marshmallows? And I assume weed is a drug?” Adriel asks.
I nod. “Yeah, weed is a drug also known as marijuana or cannabis.”
“Ah, yes. I’ve heard of cannabis, but it was used for its healing properties. The calming effects were more of a side effect.” Adriel’s face softens and brightens as he explains it and it’s cute how excited he is about it.
“Oh, and a marshmallow is like a fluffy, sticky, sugar confection thing,” I attempt.
Adriel raises a brow and stares off at nothing, likely trying to picture it.
“That’s a terrible description, but they’re quite yummy and addictive. Especially when cooked over a campfire.”
I make a mental note to bring a bag with me for him to try.
“So, Eugene was high as a fucking kite. He started running around our campsite, flapping his arms like a bird and cawing at the top of his lungs. Thankfully, we were the only ones within several miles so there wasn’t anyone else to annoy. We just laughed, and he changed up which bird he was from time to time, always keeping us on our toes.”
Laughing again, I shake my head. I can still picture Eugene. My side was killing me by the end of the night. My phone burns a hole in my pocket, encouraging me to call them again, but it’s been so long I doubt they even remember me. Everyone has moved on. Everyone but me.
“After about an hour, he’d decided that just flapping around as one on the ground wasn’t enough. He climbed up a nearby rock face and shouted at the top of his lungs, ‘I can fly!’ We all tried to talk him down, but he wasn’t having it. So, I climbed up and tackled him to the ground. It took all of us to get him back down and we taped him to a nearby tree.
“Come morning, he was still taped there and very apologetic. He cursed his cousin and buried that shit somewhere in the woods. The rest of the camping trip, he was quite cuddly.”
Adriel takes a few deep breaths and settles himself nearby on the ground. Our feet are mere centimeters from touching, and I can’t fight the thrill that bubbles up in my chest. Proof that he trusts me; or is at least starting to trust me.
“These sound like fond memories,” Adriel says quietly, leaning back to stare up at the night sky.
We continue the rest of the evening like that, me telling stories about nothing important and Adriel only pausing me to ask the occasional question. Every second feels like a lifetime I never want to end.
The last thing I remember is a jaw-popping yawn before the night fades from memory. Including the part where I fall asleep. The next thing I know, I’m being woken up by the sun peeking through the trees.
Lifting my hands in front of my face, I wordlessly grumble my displeasure and beg for a few more hours. A twinge in my lower back makes me jerk fully awake, realising I’m not in my bed in Grandma Julia’s house.
The thin, scratchy blanket I know to be Adriel’s slips from my lap. Jumping up as ungracefully as I possibly can, my not fully healed ankle buckles beneath me, and I have to catch myself before I tumble completely.
“Adriel?” I call out to the too-quiet forest around me, peeling the dried herbs from my injured ankle. But there’s no answer. I quickly slip on my sock and boot.
