Page 36 of Never Will I Ever

Despite the appealing thought of murder in the morning, I manage to keep my frustrations in check while we hike up the mountain. Unfortunately, however, I think most of the kids can tell the two of us are in some sort of stalemate; Elijah more than any of the others.

“Do you want to talk about why you’re so pissed, or would you rather keep taking it out on every rock we pass?” Elijah finally asks.

His big, browneyes glance up at me from behind his glasses, and while my instinct wants me to lie or play it off, I can’t. Not with this kid.

Jaw tight, I nod up the trail toward Kaleb.

“He doesn’t want me here.”

“Kaleb?” he asks, his brows crashing together in confusion. “Okay, but you already knew that. Why is it suddenly making you all angry?”

Leave it to an eleven-year-old to deduce it like that.

Scraping my teeth over my lip, I debate on what to say. Being honest with the kid is one thing, but airing all the dirty laundry between us is another. After all, I’m the one supposed to connect withhim.Onhislevel. The shared history between Kaleb and me is on a level that Elijah shouldn’t be worrying about for a few more years, minimum.

Careful not to divulge too much, I go with, “I didn’t think he’d take his dislike to these lengths.”To where it’s impossible to breathe the same air as him and not wanna throat-punch him or mentally plot his murder.

“That’s all?”

I nod. “Yep, that’s all.”

If Elijah wants more details than that, he doesn’t let on.

He does frown, though, two vertical lines forming above the bridge of his glasses. Then he does a little shrug that lifts his backpack before offering, “You could try pulling your weight around camp. Maybe that will help make it up to him.”

I nearly trip on a root because I’m too busy gawking at him.

“I pull my weight,” I say, albeit a little defensively.

In reality, I do my best around camp, and it’s gotten a little easier since the first day, but I’m more than aware that this whole “outdoors” thing is my downfall. Just like I know Kaleb has had to pick up a fair amount of slack because of it.

“My dad always says actions speak louder than words,” Elijah pipes up as we continue trekking up the mountain. “Maybe you can offer to set up the tent. Or start the fire or cook us dinner.”

If only it were that simple…

I know he’s only trying his best to be helpful. He doesn’t know the depth and details of the chasm dividing Kaleb and me, so I can’t fault the kid for thinking putting together a stupid tent or doing any of that other stuff is gonna do anything to bridge the gap.

There’s not a chance in hell I’ll be breaking that news to him, though.

My lips pull up in a tight smile. “I guess I can give that a try. Under one condition.”

His head whips toward me. “Condition?”

“Yep,” I confirm, unable to stop the teasing smirk from forming. “You need to start making nice with the twins.”

His nose wrinkles up like he’s just smelled something horrible.

“What’s that look for?”

“Because I don’t want to be nice to the kids who don’t like me,” he mutters, shooting me an indignant look.

Yeah, me neither, kid. But that’s life.

“You told me the three of you were kinda friends at one point. There’s no reason you can’t be again. So why don’t you extend the olive branch and see what happens?”

His face is still drawn up in a tight grimace, which tells me all I need to know about his thoughts on the idea. Yet, to my surprise, he lets out a relenting sigh and mutters, “I guess I can try.”

A little bolt of pride zings through me, and I feel a smile pull at my lips.

---