Forever Could Be Ours

Chapter 07. | Campsite

HAYLEIGH

What are the odds of going on a camping trip the same day a giant rainshower hits Sydney? Possibly the same kind of odds that lock you inside the library involuntarily.

Mrs. Harris explained the trip as a fairytale where the sun shines through the green tree branch leaves, the grass crunches beneath our feet, and inhaling the air like a gentle embrace from the world itself.

Turns out everything was just a part of her imagination and as you can expect from a warm temperate climate, the blue sky has been replaced with dark heavy clouds and the grass covered in thick slippery mud.

While packing for the trip last night, I realized none of my sneakers were suitable for the hike, and in a moment of panic, I rushed out and bought my first pair of rubber boots.

Mrs. Harris wasn't kidding when she said 9.M sharp. Safe to say I wasn't the only one surprised I managed to meet up twenty minutes before departure. Mrs. Harris double-checked it was actually me showing up with a bag of unnecessary clothing for a two-day trip and not my disciplined twin.

She gave Alexander a glance of doubt, but he simply shrugged it off with a humble smile like he had no influence.

After an hour's drive to Royal National Park with 45 students moshed inside the bus, the excitement was... descending. The walk to the actual campsite wasn't far, but within those 20 minutes, everyone was soaked from the intense humidity derived from the rainpour.

When we finally arrived, Violet had our tent assembled before I even got the chance to open the manual. She and Matty used to camp outside in their tents throughout every summer and it gives her a feeling of nostalgia.

It gives me the feeling of claustrophobia and the smell of old Cheetos. I suddenly understood why they didn't share a tent - it was enough for them to share a womb.

I was too naive to think that we would actually get a chance to stretch our legs and enjoy the view of the campsite. It's the only place in the park that isn't covered in brown dirt and the lake hiding behind the tree branches looks beautiful with the haze.

Like the walk from the bus to the campsite wasn't enough for reasons I don't know and don't understand, we now have to go on an actual hike.

I should have accepted my Dad's offer to join Cub Scouts when I was 10 instead of attending sketch courses. I doubt drawing straight lines with a ruler and a #2 pencil will help me ignoring the fact that I have mud smeared all over my bare legs and boots.

"Hay, come on, we're falling behind with this pace," Matty's arm is tightly wrapped around mine, ensuring I don't slip in the slimy sticky mixture. So far Audrey has slipped twice and Mila knocked herself into Mackenzie, pulling down Jake in the process.

It's an empire of dirty clothes, sweaty skin, and bad vibes.

"You mean my pace," I correct.

There's no need to pretend I'm not the problem when it's obvious. Before Matty got his driver's license, we used to take our bikes to Bondi Beach on Sundays and he would put his hand on my back, pushing to make me keep up with his pace. I'm just a slow person in all aspects.

Mr. Horton is the one walking in the lead. I suspect he wants to finish this 5km hike in world record time. He's too occupied leading the ship to realize the back is falling behind, nearly tipping over.

The mud keeps sticking to my boots, the constant anxiety builds with each step we take, and if it weren't for Matty's arm hooked around mine, I would have gotten lost from the group. I feel like a lost toddler at Cole's.