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“Laine, we have to get to the bottom,” I whisper, but she looks to be completely in shock.

“Do yous pretty girls want a turn?” The man catches up to us and stands too close for comfort.

I grab Laine’s arm and pull her to the side of the trail. Putting a hand on her shoulder, I look into her eyes, trying to get throughto her. Despite my efforts, her face remains sheet white and her eyes look empty.

“Laine, please,” I whisper, moving my hand up to the back of her neck, contemplating shaking her awake from this trance she looks to be in.

“HEY! GET AWAY FROM THEM.” A familiar voice calls out from behind him. I don’t think I’ve ever been more grateful to see my mom than in this moment.

“You can join if you want to, ma’am.” The man turns to our moms.

“¡AY VETE! GO!” Marissa charges at him with her water bottle, and he scurries, arms flailing idiotically as he runs.

My chest is pounding as I turn back to Laine, and I notice she’s breathing heavily, but breathing nonetheless, which she didn’t seem to be doing before.

“Hija, are you okay?” Marissa comes rushing over to Laine, grabbing her daughter’s face in her hands.

Laine nods.

“What happened?” My mom hugs me, and I can feel her heart beating against my chest.

“He just started talking to us. Saying stuff about how he molested younger girls and bragging about being an escaped felon.”

Marissa’s head jerks my way as I say this, and her eyes widen. I can tell Laine and her mom are especially shaken up by this interaction, so I don’t bother telling Marissa how long he followed us before they got here.

“I’m glad we came when we did,” Mom says as she pulls away and turns toward the trail again. “Let’s head down to the car and get out of this area. We can have a chill evening for the rest of tonight at the cabin.”

Nobody says anything as we make our way down the rest of the trail and to the car.

******

When we get back to the cabin, the moms go out on the docks to have a drink and suggest that Laine and I should watch a movie or two to unwind before bed. I turn on one of the Disney movies I suggested to Laine on the second day, but it’s clear there’s an elephant in the room.

When I press play on Camp Rock, I expect her to come sit by me on the loveseat. Maybe we’d cuddle for warmth or share a blanket again, trauma bonded by today. Instead, she takes the small chair beside the loveseat and curls up in her own blanket, her eyes still blank like the ghost she saw earlier today is still in the room with us now.

I start to wonder if I did something wrong today. Did pressing her to keep walking down the mountain when she was clearly in shock only further her anxiety? I’ve never been great at comforting people, as she’s probably aware of from that night at the playground, so maybe I didn’t handle it right today.

I figured, though, after everything we’ve been through, that today would bring us closer together, not create distance. That we’ve built enough trust that she can turntome instead of pulling away from me in situations like this. Just when it felt like I had finally gotten her to be comfortable with me, now she’s closed off again, just like she was at that first dinner where we spoke to each other through stares.

Honestly, I’m a little hurt that she’s making the conscious effort to pull away from me now after she let me in so easily when we barely knew each other.

******

The next morning, we pack our things and pile into the car. The drive home feels just as heavy as the night before. Our moms talk casually about other people’s kid’s college applications and their Facebook groups again, but even their conversation remains surface level, almost as if they’re scared that if they say the wrong thing, the feelings of yesterday will come back, even though they’re already here but nobody wants to admit it.

When we get back in town, we drop Laine and her mom at their house and head to ours. As soon as I get home, I march up to my room to text the group that they were wrong about Laine. That she’s just a girl finding her way in the world with no hidden intentions toward me. I know I’m biased, but I could feel it this week.

Everything I experienced with her at the cabin felt so raw, so real. There was no way anything that happened could’ve had malicious intent behind it. She’s not like that. So what if she hangs out with Thom, her potential cousin? His reputation has nothing to do with her character, and maybe Greyson is right; it’s just rumors.

Me

5:23 pm

i have stable internet again!

Tatum

5:25 pm