Page 24 of Love Off the Rocks
“You want to know why?”
Followed by fear.
The idea of Dev with Brittni sickens me. Not just because I think she’s off the deep end, but also because she is the opposite of me in every single way—looks, personality, drive. And I can’t stand that she packs a suitcase better than I do. I mean, how did she get all those candles and shit in that tiny suitcase, plus clothes? But at least with her, I know I’m better. If he has someone else in his life, someone I haven’t seen or compared myself to, how do I compete with that? Not that I want to.
Do I?
Dev pauses on the trail but doesn’t continue talking or move to face me.
“Why?” I don’t say it loud enough for him to hear. Because I’m not sure if I want to know. I do, but only if it’s something I want to hear. The problem is, I don’t know what I want to hear. Dev destroyed me when he didn’t go with me after graduation. Once the novelty of traveling cross-country by myself wore off, it was all I could do to keep going. Keep waking up each day. Keep breathing each moment.
He has the power to do that again. To reduce me to mere nothingness. I’m not sure that’s a chance I want to take.
Not that he’s offered.
He continues up the trail, shaking his head and muttering to himself. Still not answering my question. I debate whether I should say anything about what he said or just continue like I heard nothing. Choosing the latter, I change the subject, “Shouldn’t we at least look at the map to make sure we’re going the right way?”
“Sure.” He stops and begins digging through his pack. “Where’d you put it?” He narrows his eyes at me.
“I didn’t put it anywhere.”
“You had it last.” He narrows his eyes at me.
“You mean before I plummeted to my near death? You think I’d be able to hang on to the map? You had it. Remember? You were pointing out how I was wrong about where we were?”
He crouches down, pulling everything out of his backpack: Two unopened bottled waters, and one opened one, a few granola bars, the blanket, the list of items we are looking for, and the digital camera to take the photographic proof of our finds. “I don’t have it,” he says, gesturing to the small pile, shaking the backpack upside down over it to be sure.
“Is it in your pocket?”
He pats down his pockets. “No.”
I check. The pockets in his hoodie are empty as well. “Where did it go?”
He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know. We can walk back toward the way we came to see if we can find it.”
I shudder at the thought of returning to the spot of my near death.
“Still cold?”
“No,” I shake my head. “I mean, yes. But that’s not why I was shivering.”
He looks at me, brow raised.
“I don’t want to go back to the place where I nearly died.”
“You didn’t nearly die.”
“I did too. You don’t know. You aren’t the one who fell over a cliff.”
“That’s because I walked down it. Since it was a hill.”
I wave him off. “Let me see the compass.”
“I don’t have the compass,” he says. “You do.”
“Oh, not this again. Come on, Dev. Give me the compass.” I stomp my foot slightly and squint my eyes at him as he shoves everything back into the pack once again.
“I. Don’t. Have. It.”
