anarchist • volturi kings

.T H R E E.

D E L I L A H R I V E R S was an incredibly punctual person. If you weren't fifteen minutes early, you were late. It's a sentiment Erin had heard countless times over the last seventeen plus years she's been alive, her mother's motto, and something she'd taken to heart after so many years. It's the sole reason why she found herself pulling into the Swan girls driveway exactly twenty-two minutes before they planned on hanging out. The tires on shit-box, as she lovingly referred to her car, having squelched loudly against the damp gravel.

  It was a sound that Erin would forever call Swan Summoning, as no sooner did she force the gearshift into park the Swan girl was walking out the front door of the two story white paneled home. Almost falling down the front steps as she went. An orange backpack was on her back, clearly weighing her down as Erin killed the engine to shit-box, hearing it sputter out as she grabbed her own hiking bag. A winter-camo bag she'd bought years ago at Newton's Olympic Outfitters, back when she'd gone through her hiking phase. She'd gotten her hiking boots around the same time, boots she wore currently - even if the "hike" they were about to do didn't call for any real equipment. Erin figured "better prepared, than sorry" applied as she'd even thought to grab the dollar store first aid kit from her vanity before leaving.

  Erin liked to be prepared, especially considering her propensity for impulsive decisions. She's seen enough horror movies in her short lifetime to know the importance of being prepared for when such decisions led her astray. She had a canister of bear spray, rations, an old trail map, extra water bottles, dollar store ponchos, and even a throw blanket all loaded inside the zipper part of her bag. She'd even strapped her combat knife to her jeans belt loop, just in case.

  She'd heard about the recent spike in murdered hikers and was keen to not end up a statistic...at least, not yet.

"The meadow we're hiking to isn't that far," Bella said as soon as she was standing in front of Erin. Her hands clutching the straps of her backpack with enough force that her knuckles were as white as printer paper. Her usually pale skin appearing rather pallor, a stark contrast to the deep, purple bags that polluted the flesh beneath her eye-lids. "Thanks for coming with and...everything, I guess."

"I guess you're welcome," Erin teased in response as shit-box clicked behind her. "Are you good? We don't have to go if you're not up for it."

  "No!" Erin jerked at the intensity of her dismissal. "I - I'm fine, I feel fine." Erin didn't believe her for a single second, already cursing herself for agreeing to spend the day with her mentally unwell history partner - or more specifically, agreeing to spend time with her in a non-group setting. She should've invited Jess and Ange to come along. While Erin's primary reason behind her current association with the Swan was to irritate her mother; the secondary reason Erin was even bothering with her was an attempt at improving the lunch table - friend group dynamic. Ever since Bella started sitting at their lunch table again it's been weird. Her unique skill to make any situation awkward paired with her newfound depression had begun to really put a damper on the lunch period, something Erin wanted to try and fix, if only a little. "Can we just - please do this? Please."