What the hell am I supposed to say to that?
“Oh, um, sorry to hear that,” I glance around, hoping for a rescue.
“No need, it was for the best,” the smile hasn’t left his face and it’s making me feel all sorts of weird.
“Okay, well…” I plaster on my best smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow!”
My exit is awkward as fuck, but I’m not in the right head space right now to talk to some guy about his divorce.
Not waiting for a reply, I turn and head to the path that leads to the bathrooms. I don’t really need to go, but I did need to get away from whatever-the-hell that was.
I’m stopped by three more people before I make it out of the camp site. Then Imake a quick stop back at my tent to grab my toothbrush and run through my ablutions as quickly as possible.
Thankfully, by the time I find myself zipped into my tent, I’m yawning and ready to pass out. I don’t typically have trouble sleeping, but I was worried that the drastic change in setting would keep me wide awake.
I haven’t seen Rebecca since Mr. Olson called us all together, but she definitely made a pit-stop here because she left a battery-operated lantern on, filling the tent with light.
It’s a little weird not having a way to lock the entrance flap, but the thin tent walls make it easy to hear if anyone is approaching. Not hearing any footsteps nearby, I quickly strip down and change into my sweatpants, fuzzy socks, and a soft cotton long-sleeved shirt that’ll be serving as my pajamas for the next few nights.
Once I’ve shimmied myself into my sleeping bag, I reach out and turn off the lamp.
Darkness consumes the space around me.
Blinking into the dark, I force my body to relax.
Ten minutes later, I pry an arm free from my too small sleeping bag and reach across the tent for Rebecca’s furry throw blanket.
With as few movements as possible, I get it laid out over me. The extra layer immediately adds a little warmth and I already don’t want to give it back.
I try to roll my shoulders. My sad little blanket mattress does nothing to soften the nearly frozen ground beneath me.
Okay, go to sleep.
I close my eyes and focus on my breathing.
An hour of shivering later, when it’s clear that Rebecca’s spending the night elsewhere, I snag her empty sleeping bag, unzip it and drape it over my prone form, pulling the edge all the way up and over my nose.
I wait for two seconds, then I slip my arm out from under the pile, dig my bottle of vodka out of my bag, and sit up just enough to take the world’s quickest drink.
Grimacing, I screw the top back on, shove it back in the bag, then pull the blankets back up to my face.
Fuck this hard ground.
Fuck this cold.
Fuck everything about this trip.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I will myself to sleep