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Gwen kept her head down and her shoulders hunched as she and the other Screaming Gophers walked into the forest. She hurried to the front of the group, hoping to pull far enough ahead that no one would try to talk to her.
Unfortunately, Trent had other ideas.
“Hey, Gwen!” he called, sprinting after her. “Wait up!”
Gwen instinctively slowed before remembering why she wanted to walk alone in the first place. She dropped her gaze.
“Can I walk with you?” Trent asked hopefully.
Gwen’s heart lurched. What should she say to him? Thanks to Heather, now he, all the other campers, and the rest of the world knew about her crush on him.
“No,” she said, a note of embarrassment thrusting its way into her tone.
Trent quickened his pace, tilting his head to catch her eye. “If this is about that whole diary thing—”
Gwen tried to bite back a humiliated groan, but failed. Not trusting herself to speak, she quickened her pace, silently begging Trent not to follow. He didn’t; she wanted to glance over her shoulder, to silently tell him she wasn’t angry with him, but was afraid the other campers would notice.
Great, she thought, trudging along the dirt path with heavy footsteps. Now I’ve lost the one person here I really felt comfortable around.
Tears sprung to her eyes, which only increased her embarrassment, but she let them fall. With her back turned, the only way the others would know she was crying was if she wiped her face.
The Screaming Gophers had struck up a conversation, but Gwen was now too far ahead to make out anything but voices.
What were they talking about? She hoped it wasn’t her, or worse, the talent show. She didn’t understand why Heather had done what she did. Gwen didn’t remember doing anything to her raven-haired roommate the entire time they had been at Camp Wawanakwa. But Heather had stolen her diary and read it aloud during the talent show. In front of the entire camp.
And the cameras.
Heat rushed to Gwen’s face as she imagined all the people at home who knew her. What would they think when they saw it?
Even Chris didn’t agree with what Heather did, she thought miserably, remembering the disapproving expression on the host’s face as he announced that Justin, not Heather, would be the one to walk the Dock of Shame.
Troubled thoughts continued to swirl around Gwen’s mind until the Screaming Gophers reached their designated campground. Gwen skirted off to the side of the clearing, determined to avoid the others as best she could. Trent stopped a short distance from her, and the rest of their team gathered around him.
“It says we have to find our own food,” Heather said, reading from the instruction list. She cast an impatient glare around the clearing. “I still don’t see it.”
Trent stifled a good-natured laugh. “I think it means in the forest,” he pointed out.
“I’ll go!” Owen instantly replied, a confident smile spreading across his face. “I’m good at finding food!”
Without waiting for a response, he strode off into the surrounding trees.
“Right then, what’s next?” Trent asked, looking over Heather’s shoulder at the list.
“Set up the tents,” Heather replied, her tone laced with superiority.
Cody nudged the disassembled canvas pile with one foot. “I could do that,” he volunteered. “Trent, give me a hand?”
“Sure thing, dude.”
Within the next few minutes, the tents had been assembled. Lindsay and Beth had begun collecting rocks, which Lashawna was arranging into a neat campfire ring. Izzy wandered between them, chattering without pause about every camping trip she had ever taken.
Gwen remained on the outskirts. She had barely moved since they arrived, and hadn’t spoken a word to anyone, not that anyone had tried to speak with her. She crossed her arms and stared at the ground, trying to deny how much that hurt.
Her eyes were pulled toward Trent, who was finishing tying the stake of the guys’ tent to the ground. A sharp pang of guilt zipped through her.
I shouldn’t have said he couldn’t walk with me, she thought miserably. He probably thinks I’m mad at him.
He had left her alone as well, but Gwen had noticed him casting several glances in her direction.
He was just looking around the clearing, not at me, she tried to convince herself. I need to put my mind somewhere else. The longer she stood there, the more useless she felt to the team.
“I’ll go find firewood,” she said aloud, keeping her eyes down to avoid seeing any surprised faces.
She started into the trees when once again a voice called out behind her.
“Wait up! I’ll come with you.”
Gwen winced at Trent’s voice, her stomach twisting at the thought of walking with him. She could guess what he wanted to talk to her about.
But she couldn’t refuse twice.
Stifling a sigh, Gwen let him catch up with her. They started into the surrounding trees, and were soon out of sight of the Screaming Gophers and cameramen.
Gwen kept her eyes glued to the ground, trying to keep her mind completely focused on finding firewood. Silence stretched between them for several long minutes, and she soon found herself wondering what Trent was thinking. She paused to pick up a stray stick and finally found the courage to risk a glance at him. He had stopped as well and was watching her with an expression somewhere between concern and hesitation.
Gwen turned away quickly the moment their eyes met, her face growing uncomfortably warm.
“Look, Gwen,” Trent said at last.
Gwen startled, letting her sticks fall from her grasp. With a distraction created, she bent down, slowly picking them up while carefully avoiding his gaze.
“We both know this can’t go on forever,” he continued. “We’ll have to talk to each other again, so can’t it be now?”
“I don’t want to talk about what happened,” Gwen replied, keeping her eyes fixed on the sticks.
Trent bent down beside her and picked up the stick closest to him. “Then don’t,” he answered. “But at least talk to me again.”
Gwen paused, shutting her eyes tightly; she could feel the emotion welling up within her. She swallowed hard, attempting to shove it away.
“Please?”
Trent’s voice was soft. Gwen opened her eyes and cast him a shy glance; his face was earnest, green eyes pleading.
She took a deep breath. “I want to talk to you,” she admitted, an unwanted tremor forcing itself through her voice. “I just don’t know if I can.”
“What do you mean?” Trent asked, placing his pile of sticks on the ground.
Gwen suddenly found herself unable to suppress her humiliation any longer. “After that?” she burst out. “I can’t look anyone in the face anymore, much less talk to them!”
She dropped her sticks and stood up, taking several paces away from Trent. She took a shaky breath in an attempt to gather herself, but failed. Tears sprung to her eyes, threatening to fall.
Suddenly, a gentle hand touched her shoulder. Gwen jumped, but kept her head turned away.
“You can always talk to me,” Trent murmured. “We’re friends, right?”
She forced a nod.
“And we’ll stay friends?”
Another forced nod.
“You don’t seem entirely convinced.”
Gwen didn’t reply, her tears becoming more and more powerful with each passing second. In the pit of her stomach, a knot of panic twisted.
I’m about to start crying, she realized. I have to get somewhere alone.
But Trent didn’t move his hand from her shoulder, and instead gave it a light squeeze.
Her tears’ desire to fall increased, and Gwen suddenly noticed she was holding her breath to keep any sobs from escaping. I have to leave now.
But her feet wouldn’t move; she couldn’t pull away. Another knot twisted as she realized she didn’t want to pull away.
Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Trent’s presence was comforting. So she stood there, eyes tightly shut, holding her breath until her lungs ached. She wanted to lean against him, to let her tears fall, to hear him tell her everything would be okay.
But I can’t, Gwen thought fiercely. Breaking down in front of Trent would mean letting him see past her emotional wall.
And I don’t want that.
Do I?
By this point, her lungs were burning for want of air, and the startling realization that she may want to share her feelings with someone was the distraction they were waiting for. She sucked in a sharp breath, and her tears took advantage of the split second relax of control.
A rogue tear escaped, leaving a shiny, very evident rivulet running down her cheek. Another followed, and another. Gwen could almost see the control of her emotions slipping through her fingers like sand.
“I’ve never been so humiliated,” she whispered, not daring to look at Trent. Her voice sounded thick, even to her own ears, and she wrapped her arms around herself.
Trent’s hand finally moved off her shoulder, and Gwen tensed, expecting him to walk away and leave her to her thoughts. But instead, he pulled her into a tight hug. Her eyes popped open with a jolt of surprise.
He really cares about me…
Gwen rested her head against his shoulder, finally dropping any remaining control. Tears streamed down her face, accompanied every few seconds by a sharp inhalation, not full-fledged sobs, but as close as one could get. Trent continued to gently hold her, rhythmically stroking her hair.
They remained that way for some time, and eventually Gwen’s tears slowed and her breathing evened out. After a few more moments had passed, Trent spoke.
“You know you can’t let someone else ruin your relationships,” he said, his voice still as calm as usual, though with a subtle note of seriousness. “I still care about you, and I hope you still care about me. Don’t let Heather take that away from you.”
Gwen felt her face turn red, but she didn’t pull away.
“You’re right,” she replied, surprising herself with how certain her own voice sounded. How certain she felt.
She really liked Trent, and she thought, just maybe, he really liked her. She wouldn’t let anyone destroy that.