Page 17 of Campfires & Canines
"My little sister Aurora. She's about two years younger than me," Hazel replies, pursing her lips. “She’s working on an art degree.”
"Are you guys close?" Marigold asks sweetly. Hazel shrugs.
"Not really. She’s busy with her own life. What about you guys?" She shifts the attention off herself smoothly.
"It’s the two of us and Briar. She’s sixteen,” Cedar answers.
“Just me,” I finally say. It’s true enough.
Onyx hops up. "You know what we need?" Without answering, he disappears inside.
Cedar smiles, unperturbed as always. "Hazel, how was your first day here?"
Hazel's eyes flicker to me and then away. Are her cheeks pink? She's definitely thinking about falling in the creek. I'm holding my breath.
"Um, it was nice. I did a little hiking and read my book a bit."
"And now you're going to roast marshmallows, like our forefathers before us." Onyx is back, grinning with his arms full.
Marigold helps him pass out ciders and beer. Hazel opts for the cider. Mesmerized, I watch her bring the bottle to her lips.
Onyx rips open a bag of marshmallows and Cedar produces the long metal skewers we've used to roast marshmallows for as long as I can remember. Marigold spears marshmallows and passes them around.
I take a swig from my beer while holding my marshmallow over the flames. Little sparks float up and away.
"Wow, there are many stars!" Hazel marvels. Instead of watching the fire, she's looking straight up with her mouth slightly open.
"Oh, you can't see them from the city, can you? You have smoke and stuff," Marigold says.
"Smog," Cedar corrects mildly.
"It makes me feel kind of small." Hazel's hair gleams like polished brass in the firelight.
"Woah!" Her marshmallow caught fire while she was stargazing. Without thinking, I snatch the stick from her hands and blow it out.
Onyx cackles. "Party foul!"
"Sorry," I mumble.
"Sorry!" Hazel says at the same time.
She giggles as I pass her the stick and blackened marshmallow.
"Thanks." She speaks softly, her eyes connecting with mine. In the firelight, they are melted amber. The fire suddenly seems too warm, and I’m gulping down the night air to steady myself.
"There, perfect!" Marigold shows off an impeccably golden marshmallow. "This is how it's done, boys."
"Yes, teacher." Onyx is blowing out his own burned marshmallow. He’s loved them charred since he was a kid.
"Nicely done, as always," Cedar compliments Marigold, and she looks about to float away.
“You don’t have to eat that,” I murmur, leaning towards Hazel. She shakes her head defiantly, pulls the blackened confection off the stick, and takes a bite. She’s ornery and I love it.
“So good!” Onyx moans over his marshmallow, causing Marigold to snort.
"Do you guys do this a lot?" Hazel asks, licking her fingers clean.
"Maybe once a week? Sometimes more." Cedar finishes roasting his marshmallow and spins the stick, making sure it’s evenly browned.
