In Riptides

10 | solid ground

N A T E

It's hard to believe it's only been a week since Lia stood in my driveway and refused to let me walk out of her life. Especially when she's the one who's been doing the walking since.

She's been dodging me all week, and it didn't take long to notice Matt's close proximity to her around school. We're back at square one—they're together again, he doesn't want her being my friend, and he's got her wrapped around his finger tighter than ever before.

But how can I bitch about this when I caused it? I gave her the perfect reason. I made it so goddamn easy for her to cut me out and run back to him. Digging a grave when I kissed Alex, my relationship with Lia now lies six feet under.

But something buried alive still has a fighting chance if it's pulled from the dirt in time, doesn't it?

But now, at least for this weekend, the shovel is being wrenched from my hands. My friends are dragging me away from the grave, not knowing what I'm leaving behind. And all I'm hoping is that these three days isn't what kills my fighting chance.

With a burning joint in rotation and music blaring through open windows, the five of us drive to SoundWave late Friday afternoon. A killer sunset blazing the road orange, a trunk stuffed with camping supplies, heads buzzing with hazy smoke, it's impossible to hold a grudge against them for practically holding me at gunpoint until I agreed to come.

I take a puff and pass the joint to Ollie in the back, my gaze landing on the rear view mirror. Alex and Clara are in hushed whispers next to him, heads close, talking in strings of mutters under the music. They almost sound like they're speaking another language. Sometimes I think Clara has more of a twin-connection with Alex than she does with Ollie. They both glance at me and my eyes skip to the road again. Doesn't take a wild guess to know I'm the subject of those whispers.

Alex has kept her distance from me this week too, but not in a stand-offish way like Lia has. In an awkward way, which isn't Alex's way. She has to be the least awkward person I know, so this version of her is new and weird and it kind of scares me more than when she's out of her mind with rage.

"Clara," I say, breaking up their huddle. "You sure Rob isn't coming this weekend?"

She takes the joint from Ollie. "Yeah, his mom's got him on lockdown. She thinks he'd end up breaking his other leg if he came to a festival."

"He'll break his other leg when he sneaks out anyway," Blake chimes next to me. "Ten bucks says he tries."

"To climb down the tree?" Alex leans forward, blowing smoke in his face. "He's not as dumb as you, Blakey."

He snatches the joint from her before he waves her away, and before we share a look brimming with a special kind of awkwardness she's reserved just for me.

In the campsite, we get to setting up our tents; me, Blake, and Ollie in one, Alex and Clara in another. The air cools when the sun dips behind the mountains, and Blake and Ollie are useless meerkats, their heads swiveling around the grounds as more people stream in and a band can be heard taking the stage. I tell them to go and they abandon me in a flash, and I actually finish faster without them on a go-slow.

My dad taught me and Lizzy how to set up a tent on our first camping trip when we were kids. Tyler was still too young, but Dad let him sit inside when we raised it, and that was enough to convince a pudgy toddler he had played an integral role in helping us.

I look over at Alex and Clara as I throw our sleeping bags inside. Their tent is still flat on the ground, but I don't think they've even attempted to start with it yet. I think they've spent all their time whispering again, glancing at me again. They're a few feet away, but I distinctly hear my name and I act like I'm oblivious until Clara doesn't give me a choice.