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The first few weeks were rough, learning how to navigate the million-plus acres of wilderness. No electricity. No running water. No motors. Just a canoe, a paddle, and a pack.
But I quickly learned how to master my surroundings, and I ended up loving it.
So, I kept going. And once a year, for three months, I’d escape the busy city life and live under the stars.
When I graduated, I stopped going north. Work and life got in the way and not too long after I forgot all about it.
I forgot how much I love being outside. How much I love inhaling that fresh forest air. How much I love being here, in Minnesota.
And dammit, now I owe my dad a thank you. He’s the reason I’m here in the first place. Apparently, he’s on the same bowling team as the Principal of Darling Elementary, and when the original Survival Guide canceled, my dad volunteered me in his place.
So as I secure the Ace Bandage around Elouise’s “cut” I send a silent thanks to Dad. Because if it weren’t for him roping me into this, I’m not sure I would’ve bumped into her at all. And flustering Elouise has become my new favorite hobby.
I give her arm a light squeeze. “Now that we’ve stopped the bleeding and dressed the wound, she’s stable enough for us to get her to a hospital.”
The laugh she lets out sounds a little strained, “My lucky day.”
“Not just your lucky day,” I hide my smirk and gesture down to the Emergency Kit by my feet. “Everyone here will get one of these Emergency Kits to take home,” most of the kids cheer, like they just won something way cooler than Band-Aids, “but you won’t get them until the last day.”
A sea of shoulders slump in defeat.
Sensing the opening, Mr. Olson gives a quick blow of his whistle and starts directing everyone on what’s next. My job is over for the day, so as I listen to him go over the dinner cook-out plans, I find my attention moving back to Elouise.
She’s still standing close to me and the fact that she hasn’t stepped away fills me with an odd sense of accomplishment. Like I’ve won something.
Her hand brushes against mine. “Um,” she whispers, “did you want to take this off me?”
My head turns so fast I startle her.
“What did you say?” I ask.
“I said, do you want to take this off…” her words trail off as her eyes widen, realizing what she’d said.
She looks like she might burst into flames, but instead she slaps a hand over her mouth, trying to muffle her laughter.
“Oh my god,” she shakes her head and holds up her bandaged arm. “I meant do you want this stuff back?”
I don’t hold my smirk back this time. “Are you sure it’s had enough time to heal?”
Elouise rolls her eyes, and I can feel her shyness fall away between us. But that barrier dropping only makes the tension between us feel more alive.
I want to reach out to see what happens when I touch her, so that’s exactly what I do.
