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“Oh, he didn’t bother me.”
“Good.”
We finish setting up and then unload the rest of the supplies. An hour later, Malcom still isn’t back, and I’m beyond irritated now. “I’m going to put this stuff down by the pier.”
I nod, lost in thought. And then I’m alone.
Utterly alone.
The silence is starting to become more of an enemy than a friend.
To be fair, I’m partially responsible for my gloomy mood. I built up this wonderful idea in my head, created so many romantic ideas of what this weekend would entail. Even if Malcom isn’t the man I really wanted to spend it with. It was better than the backseat of a car or behind the bleachers at a football game like Becca.
I even went as far as imagining how that moment would go. Hell, I’ve been imagining that moment the way some girls picture their weddings.
You know...themoment.
This is the weekend I planned to give up my V-card. I even started birth control a couple of months ago so there wouldn’t be anysurpriseslater.
My mother didn’t want me to end up like her, pregnant at sixteen without the means to take care of a baby. As soon as I was old enough to understand about the birds and the bees, she sat me down and made me promise to wait until I finished high school to have sex. That promise has now been fulfilled.
Not that it was hard or anything. Malcom was my first real boyfriend. Before him, I never really had any interest in dating. Something else my mom bestowed in me—a strong distrust in men.
Actually, I think my dad had a hand in that one too.
He left before I was born. Met the bastard once, when I was around eleven. He was between stints in jail, pretending he was going to do better. Be better. That lasted all of two weeks.
He robbed some old lady the day after we met and was quickly shipped back off to prison.
Good riddance.
Malcom has always been unique, though—kind and caring. At least he used to be. Lately, he’s been different. Hell, maybe that’s my fault too. I’ve been so on the fence about us that he could have sensed something was wrong.
That’s why I originally wanted to come on this trip, why I was so sure he was the right person to take that step with even if there was no passion, no overbearing desire to be with him. But so far, this weekend is nothing like I was expecting. I damn sure didn’t anticipate being abandoned the moment we pulled into the campsite and unloaded. I mean, who would? And yet, that’s exactly what Malcom did.
Fed up with sitting here by myself, I peer around the campsite and listen for Malcom. Birds chirp overhead, the trees rustle in the breeze, but there’s still no sign of my boyfriend.
Fuck this.
I duck back into the tent and swap my worn Birkenstocks for Doc Martens, rubbing some homemade tea tree oil bug repellant on. When Malcom still hasn’t returned after another five minutes, I take off through the woods in the direction he headed earlier.
