Of the Forgotten: Cal Wants to Be Famous

Chapter 5: Wander Wonders

These guys have been roaming the town square for, like, two weeks. No wonder they look like they just crawled out of a ditch.

*

Greg was busy poking at the twigs he'd collected earlier, and George—the tan, smug-looking one—was clearly having the time of his life watching me lose it.

I'd been muttering nonstop about the stink of sweat and dirt clinging to me, the creepy abandoned town square, the narrow alley that felt like it wanted to swallow us whole, and now this—this miserable cave.

-
We were at the mouth of a rocky cave, the kind of place that looked like it wanted to spit us out. Jagged and unwelcoming, like the island itself dared us to leave.

And trust me, I would've taken the dare if it didn't involve trekking back through that nightmare of a town square.

Just one more rock in the face of my already stellar day.

-
George smirked. Greg, ever the quiet one, struck a match and lit the twigs. The fire flickered to life, crackling like a mocking laugh.

I shot a glare at both of them, my patience already hanging by a thread.

"What! No one's going to tell me what's going on?"

My voice bounced off the cave walls, echoing in the most dramatic way possible. Maybe it would scare some sense into them.

But nope. They exchanged one of those annoying looks like they were in on some big cosmic joke I wasn't invited to. The way George glanced at Greg, it was like they had some unspoken code. And for a moment, I wondered what kind of things they'd seen out here.

Greg's fire crackled even brighter, like, "Haha. We're all having a great time."

"Come on!" I waved a hand toward the fire, like I could physically force them to spill the beans.

George, the genius, just stood up, dusted himself off, and said, "Yeah, come on. Let's go," like I hadn't just been begging for answers for the last half hour.

Then he walked into the cave, Greg right behind him, like this was all just a stroll in the park.

I was speechless, in complete disbelief. Seriously, I'd never been treated this way!

-
Still, against my better judgment—and my growing irritation—I followed.

My instincts screamed at me to run the other way, but my feet had other ideas. My curiosity—always the traitor—dragged me forward, one cautious step at a time.

Because, of course, curiosity always wins. Thanks a lot, brain.

-
The cave was narrow, the walls rough and jagged, scraping at my arms like it couldn't wait to rip my cloak to shreds.

And that lovely smell? Like someone had doused the place in cleaning solution but forgot to clean anything. Fantastic.

"Alright," George's voice finally echoed back, casual as ever, like this was a guided tour and not an actual mystery we were walking into.

"What you saw back there was the old town square."

I shot him a glare sharp enough to cut through the gloom.
"What do you mean, old town square? I've read about this place.

The teachers practically sold it as a vacation spot. A hidden gem! No one said it was a dump."

George hesitated—oh, so now he thinks before speaking? "Well... it's hard to explain."