I can still feel his hand on my back the next morning when he all but drags me out of bed at five again. Jenna didn't pee in the bed, for which I'm grateful, and I bear through the morning drills. There's no self-defense this time. I'm not sure if I'm happy about that or not, especially when I join in the drills, running laps, circuit training, other shit I'm not a fan of. I can't help feeling too aware of my limp today. I spent years in physical rehabilitation and am careful not to give any sign of the accident that took away my mother.
The fact that Captain Mathis of all people noticed it …
It's too personal, like sitting with him on the floor last night, our bodies touching and his warm palm on my thigh. Not that he noticed anything, but I definitely did. It makes me fevered thinking about how close we were together.
Post-morning torture, we go to breakfast and then head to a couple of activities before we're sent back to our dorms to gather our gear.
Today is the day I've dreaded most. We're going off into the woods to spend the night. No dorms, though I guess there are outhouse style bathrooms. No showers, though.
Ugh. I straighten from packing. I've been very studiously ignoring him today, not engaging unless I have to. Self-conscious about my back or maybe in general, I have the urge to crawl inside my shell and stay there.
"You're taking all that for one night?" Captain Mathis asks from his side of the room.
"Just in case."
"Just in case what? The world ends?"
I shoot him a dirty look. Everything he's taking fits into one small pack. His sleeping bag is rolled tightly and attached to the military style bag. I've got a suitcase and a sleeping bag almost as big.
"You never know," I say defensively.
"You can't carry all that to the site."
"That's what your truck is for."
"We're hiking, Katya."
"What?" I face him, suspecting he's messing with me.
He's not.
I should've asked more questions. I don't know what the hell I'm doing out here, but everything I do or say is wrong. The others don't seem to be having issues adjusting like I am.
"You don't need a suitcase for one night."
"I don't have a pack like yours," I tell him.
His jaw clenches. I turn away, waiting for him to tell me tough luck and to lug my shit there. I'm itching for a fight with him. It might make me feel better after the weird intimacy of last night.