Paper Houses **N.H**

Chapter 20

Evelyn's POV-

The next morning, I woke up to Niall shaking me awake. It was still dark outside, so I was sort of confused to why he was trying to get me to get up.

Moaning, I tiredly opened my eyes and saw him peering down at me.

"Ev" he whispered. "Do you want to go back to your tent before your dad gets up so you don't get in trouble?"

Nodding, I sleepily stood up and went back to my tent. I ended up falling back asleep, but not for long when my dad came in and got me up for breakfast.

They had made eggs, bacon, and grits, but I only ate the grits. I knew some vegetarians ate eggs, but I didn't. I couldn't stand the thought of eating an unborn chicken. At least that's how I looked at it.

Once we were done, Niall gave me his backpack so I could carry my art stuff on the hike. I really hadn't thought the whole duffel bag thing through. Thankfully, he was smarter than I was. We also packed up some trail mix, which I was sure I'd be eating a lot of, considering I hadn't eaten a ton of food for breakfast and the hike would probably too be exhilarating.

Once we were ready, we walked to one of the trails, which was maybe a quarter of a mile away from where our camp was set up and began the start of our trek. 

My dad and Mr. Horan seemed to be in a hurry, or maybe they were just walking fast. Both of them were ahead of us. I wasn't used to hiking, but it seemed pretty easy so far. Sure, there were rocks in random places, but you just had to watch your step. 

"What are you going to paint when we get to the top?" Niall asked, walking beside me.

"The view" I answered, my eyes on the ground to avoid tripping and falling. "I have to have a visual reference whenever I paint."

"That makes sense" he agreed. "I can't imagine not having something to look at and trying to paint it"

"I've tried it before" I shrugged. "Although, it doesn't work that well. That's why I take photographs if I'm not able to finish a painting at the time, or if I'm just passing by an interesting place"

"What else have you painted?" he wondered.

"I've done a lot of waterscapes" I looked up ahead and saw the trail was going to get steeper, realizing the reason it was so easy so far is because the ground was pretty level and we had not yet gotten to the actual slope. "I also just paint things that people may not pay attention to"

"Like the tire swing" he said it more like a statement than a question.

I nodded. "Yeah, that and like a gas station at night, the reflection of street lights in a puddle after a storm, or a rusty pipe I found in a field once"

"Interesting" he hummed.

"That sounded sarcastic" I mumbled.

"No, no! I just never would've thought of painting that unless, if...you know if I was an artist"

"You're a music artist" I pointed out.

"That's different"

"Not if you wrote a song about something like that" I smirked.

"A song about a rusty old pipe. I'll have to figure that one out" he laughed.

I stumbled a little on a root, but caught myself, feeling a little embarrassed, but just laughing it off. The ground had began its slope. Still, it wasn't that difficult for me. I wasn't sure what all the talk was about it being a difficult climb. Like it wasn't easy, but if I watched my step, it would be easy sailing.