Page 20 of When Glitter Meets Gold

SARA

Jack hasn’t uttered a word in several minutes. Instead, he throws his energy into that rickety old radio, checking for a signal, like his sanity depends on it.

Contrary to his incessant itch to get rid of me, there’s also a peculiar part of him that won’t quite allow him to leave me to fend for myself either. I won’t go as far as to say it’s his conscience because I don’t believe he has one of those.

I’ve been far too occupied hoping he hasn’t noticed the fact that a fly has gotten into my mouth to notice that we’ve stopped next to a cluster of enormous trees.

“Alright,” he says, throwing down his bag. “We’ll shelter here for a while.”

My brows crush together in disbelief.

Perhaps he’s missed the golf-ball-sized raindrops that are currently expelling from the blackest sky I’ve seen outside of a disaster movie?

He rolls out a large square mat, pointing to the edge farthest from him. “Toss a rock on the corner.”

I scan the area, my eyes flicking to a couple of smallishrocks at my feet. Hesitantly, I tap one with my foot. When I’m satisfied there are no crawly things with a hundred legs attached, I attempt to retrieve it with my index finger and thumb before discovering its shocking mass and the fact it requires both hands.

“What exactly is the plan here?” I place the rock on the mat, wiping my hands free of sticky, gross residue. “Sit out the storm on an oversized yoga mat? I thought you said there was a tower. You know, with an actual roof?”

Jack digs in his bag again. It’s one of those huge hiker types. The ones that strap at three different points to support all the crap hikers take on their excursions.

“We won’t make it to the tower before the storm hits.” He pulls out another rolled up item, this one made of the same waterproof material as a…raincoat? “Besides, we’ve got a roof.”

Like he’s performed the procedure a hundred times, Jack unravels the item and begins to insert curved metal rods into…

Oh no. No, no. All the nos.

“Is thata tent?” I hiss.

Jack doesn’t raise his head. Instead, he continues hooking bits here and strapping things there, until a dome forms and I’m staring at the unmistakable structure of the very thing I refuse to shelter inside of.

“Why yes, Sara,” Jack confirms, leaving me only with the desire to smack that condescending look right off his face. “This is a tent. The only thing we have to protect us against the storm that arrived while you were flossing insects from your teeth.”

My body tightens, and I decide that if we should find ourselves at the top of another cliff, I would very much delight in shoving him from the highest point.

Several silent moments later, the tent is erected and the steady patter of rain echoes throughout the clearing. It’s not quite dark yet, but clouds have blanketed the forest, covering everything in shades of washed-out gray.

Jack unzips the entrance and steps inside.

“Are you sure you don’t have a phone or maybe an iPad? I mean, who travels without a phone?” I call into the tent.

Rustling and grunting comes from within as Jack makes final adjustments. “I do.”

“And just how long are we sheltering for exactly?” A wandering thought snags in my subconscious.

“Until the storm passes.”

And there it is. The thing I’d hoped he wouldn’t say. The prospect of the storm stretching into the night, trapping us.

“So, we’dsleephere?” I squeak.

Jack’s head appears through the gap below the zipper. “If you have a better idea, I’m all ears.”

Tragically, I don’t have a better idea. Frustration pricks at me, somewhere deep and close to my heart. I’ve never spent a night in a tent before. Sleeping bags and portable stoves and the absence of modern-day plumbing sour the appeal. There are those who camp and those who categorically donot.And I handsomely fall into the latter grouping.

“I know what you’re thinking,” I say when I catch Jack’s expression. He’s staring at me like an ungrateful child who’s yet to learn the mannerly way of receiving a terrible gift. “You can save it.”

“Didn’t say anything,” he replies in a tone that suggests there’s plenty he’d like to say.

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