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Lucy
Three hoursinto the trip and I’m already regretting my decision to come. It’s not that I don’t like camping. I love the woods and nature, the calming stillness of it all.
We turn off the main road onto a smaller, less traveled dirt road. Dust billows behind the Bronco. I watch it in the side mirror until we finally roll to a stop. Malcom climbs out the back, Elisa right behind him. When my feet hit the solid ground, I stretch and try to work out my tense muscles from the long drive.
Three hours of nothing but music playing on the stereo. It wouldn’t have been uncomfortable, but after last night, with the way Weston and I... It wasn’t like I could talk about it. Not with Malcom in the backseat, even if he was asleep most of the ride.
I went to Malcom’s room after the dip in the pool, and once I was alone again, all those pesky thoughts came racing back. I stood at the foot of the bed and watched Malcom sleep for a minute, and not once did I think about waking him. Ten minutes earlier, I was ready to jump his dad’s bones, but there with him... nothing.
The smart move would be to end it now.
“I’ll be right back. I want to show Elisa something I found last year.” Malcom takes off before I can open my mouth. It shouldn’t irritate me, but it does. Why couldn’t he show me too?
Reaching back into the Bronco, I grab my water bottle and phone. Weston pops the back of the truck open and starts pulling stuff out. I take a quick sip of water and check my messages, then toss them both back in the seat before peeking my head around the side.
“Need some help?”
“Sure. Grab that tent there.” He nods in the direction of a grey plastic covered bag.
I reach in and pull it free.
“We’ll set up and then unpack the rest so we have somewhere to put everything.”
“Makes sense.”
Another truck pulls in behind us, sliding across the gravel before coming to a full stop. A moment later, the driver is walking over. He’s easily six two, with curly blond hair and bright blue eyes. His shirt is stretched across his arms, and I eye it for a second, wondering if he’s really that buff or if he bought a smaller size to seem that way.
“Wes, please tell me you have an extra tent in there.”
“Forgot the most important thing, Carson?”
“Well, fuck no. It flew off the back on the highway. I thought I saw something but wasn’t sure until I got here.”
“I only brought two,” Weston says.
“What sizes?” he asks.
“Ten- to twelve-person, and a four- to six.”
“You think your bunch can squeeze in the bigger one for the weekend?” He turns, pleading. I almost snicker.
Weston glances over at me, and Carson follows his look.
“Yeah, we can manage. Lucy, toss that to him.”
I step forward, holding the tent out in front of me. “Lucy? I’m Carson. It’s nice to meet you. You wanna help me set this up?”
Weston growls in his direction. Literally growls out a warning. Carson steps back, holding his hands in the air. “Damn. Off limits. Got it.” Then he turns to me and whispers conspiratorially, “If you get tired of the broody one, you know where to find me.”
“I’m not... we’re not. It’s not...”
“Lucy is Malcom’s girlfriend.”
“Oh, yeah? Good for him. Where is the little squirt, anyway?”
I don’t stay to hear the rest of the conversation. Grabbing the other tent from the back, I walk to the place marked for setup and start pulling the pieces out of the bag and laying them in a row. When all the poles are inserted and it’s ready to be staked down, Weston appears. “Let’s point the door toward the lake.”
I grab the tent and start shifting it around. “Carson can be a little extreme. Just ignore him.”
