Page 57 of Camping with the Boss

“Hey, bro. What are you doing here?”

Thursday, June 12th, 9:30 a.m.

The excited cheers and whispers from the rest of the campers provide background noise as Wade ushers River and me into the activities room. Several people try to greet him, delaying hisprogress, but one withering look from Wade has them backing away.

River is here. He’s safe. There was never anything to worry about. He left. It was his choice.

Mom and Dad chose to go boating.

I grab the back of a chair, my body shaking.

I was waiting for that call.

Wade and River are both talking, but their voices mix together, and I can’t focus on the actual words. I clutch my chest and lean over the chair, blinking away the darkness.Don’t pass out.

The scratchy material on the back of the chair helps ground me. I suck in a much-needed breath. And another.

“He’s having a panic attack.”

“Dude, give him some space.”

My eyes squeeze shut as the tension in the room escalates, prickling over my skin. I need a minute. Just another minute.

I focus on my other senses to keep me grounded. The textured blue material of the chair I can feel and picture in my mind. The sounds of sharp breaths. Shoes shuffling on the carpet. A chair knocking into the table next to me. The crisp, clean scent of grapefruit.

The heat of Wade’s body. If I reach for him, will he wrap me in his arms?

I can’t. My heart still pounds scarily fast as if it’s still catching up to today’s shocking news: my brother is here. He’s safe.

Here. My relief gets hijacked by a burst of anger. River is here. Where the fuck has he been? And humiliation. I almost passed out. Again. Why am I so weak? I rub against the tightness in my chest.

“Can?” Wade asks, and I can hear the rest of his panicked question.Are you all right?

“Don’t die on me, bro.”

“Jesus Christ.”Bang.I flinch, and my heart takes off again. Something hit the table. A fist? No. The sound was sharp. A chair hitting the side of the table. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Me? You’re?—”

“Aaaarg!” Frustration. Relief. Fear. Rage.Guilt.It’s all too much. A wave of emotion surges into a crest and crashes over me, shattering my fragile control. “Shut up! Both of you.”

They freeze, their mouths open mid-argument as they watch me. Scrubbing my face, I find tears. I stare at my wet fingers and then at my brother.

“Can—”

The chair falls to the ground as I storm over to him. “You fucking asshole.” I’m so angry my voice shakes, matching the rest of me. “How could you, River?” Grabbing his shoulders, I pull him into a hug, ignoring my initial instinct to shake him. The feel of him, so familiar, finally convinces me. He’s here. He’s safe. I clutch the back of his shirt, afraid to let go, and use my free hand to whack the back of his head.

“Ow, Can,” he says, pulling out of my grasp. “I’m fine. I told you not to worry.”

I stare at him, speechless, and then at Wade. He watches me. His eyes intent. Worried. Covering my face with my hands, I scream internally.

It helps.

There’s no noise from the dining hall. Did they leave the room? Or are they listening? Waiting for another explosion. I glare at my brother. “Charizard.”

River chokes out a laugh. “What?”

“You took my Pokémon card to school every day.”

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