Page 58 of The Unlikely Pair
Stay alive
Try not to murder Harry Matheson
So, I’m beginning my day by yelling at Harry. Which isn’t a good start. But for fuck’s sake, can’t he loosen up just a little?
For some insane reason, tears prickle my eyes while Harry just stands there, looking baffled.
Harry Matheson, who always has an answer for everything, doesn’t seem to know what to say right now.
“Toby,” he begins.
“Forget about it.” I smear a hand across my face, then stalk off.
What am I upset about? Is this the events of yesterday finally catching up with me emotionally? The fact it’s now been two days of being stranded in the wilderness and our chances of being rescued seem to be getting more and more remote.
Or am I upset because one insane part of me actually wanted that grinding to turn into something more?
I think Harry is attracted to me. I’ve seen enough evidence since we crashed for that to be an obvious conclusion.
But he’s never going to do anything about it.
Maybe part of my tears is frustration.
Which makes absolutely no sense. I don’t even like Harry Matheson. In fact, I loathe Harry Matheson with every cell in my body.
But fuck, I’m stuck out here with only him. And who the hell knows how much longer we’ll survive? One part of me thinks we should seize every fleeting chance at anything that makes us feel good, even momentarily. But Harry would never do anything like that. Even if he wants me, he’s married. So I’ve got to cope with this…weird tension between us with no way to resolve it while we’re trying to stay alive.
Pure hatred would probably be better right now. I know how to cope with pure hatred.
But how can you totally hate someone who saved your life? How can I reconcile my previous opinion of Harry with everything that has happened out here?
I head over to the survival kit and make a performance of doing an inventory of the contents.
“So, we really need to figure out what to do about food. From my calculations, we’ve only got enough energy bars to last one more day.”
“There is a fishing line we could use to acquire food,” Harry says.
“Have you ever fished before?” I ask.
“A few times. Only on my family’s estate.”
“Well, fishing didn’t feature prominently in my childhood, so I guess we’ll be relying on you. Just promise you won’t try to privatize the river if we actually catch something.”
Harry ignores my barb. “I think we should get moving first. Put a bit more distance between us and the plane.”
“Do you have any idea what direction we should head in?”
“I think we should follow the river because it’s prudent to keep close to a water source. And if we follow the river downstream, we should eventually come to a lake. And that should increase our chances of finding human habitation.”
Human habitation. Houses. People. Phones.
