Where the Hurricane Meets a Blizzard

Chapter 7

          I’m freezing. My whole body aches. My head is pounding. And my nose feels all stuffed up.

          That’s how I awake the next morning. I turn over on my side, expecting to see Alaska’s limp body still sleeping peacefully beside me, only to see that he’s gone. I promptly sit up, quickly wincing and throwing a hand to my head that only seems to hurt more from the movement, and do a once over in the igloo. The backpack and everything inside is still resting in their respective places against the packed coating of snow that constitutes the walls of our makeshift igloo, but a certain dark haired boy with brown eyes is nowhere to be found.

          I collapse back onto the ground so I’m sprawled out on my back and let out a groan. I don’t have the energy to go on a scavenger hunt for the idiot. Why is he gone, anyway? We never came up with a plan in regards to what we should do if the other person is ever missing. Do we stay put? Go on a search party? Acknowledge that time is of the essence and leave without them? I don’t know.

          I count to five and muster up the energy to push myself up from my spot, put on my snow boots, quickly realizing that his boots are also missing, and push a few tresses of my matted brown hair that fall in my face out of the way. I must look horrific right now.

          “If he’s trying to mess with me, I’m gonna kill him,” I mutter dryly to myself as I lace my boots.

          When I go outside, I look around desperately, hoping to see him hovering over some makeshift fire pit as he rubs two sticks together or something, but there isn’t a single soul in sight. A bird crows overhead in what I assume to be the early morning atmosphere, and a shiver courses its way down my spine. I really, really don’t enjoy being out here alone.

          “Alaska?” I call tentatively. Then, louder: “Alaska?”

          No answer.

          Now I’m getting panicked. I genuinely don’t have any idea what to do. I kind of assumed I’d have Alaska with me the whole time I’d be out here, whether I outwardly admit to appreciating his presence or not. But what if something happened to him?

          “Alaska?!” I’m practically screaming now. “Where are you?”

          I look down and notice a trail of footprints that lead deeper into the woods and stumble after them, ignoring the sharp pain in my head. “You better not be messing with me!” I call again.

          Still, there’s no reply.

          I feel so hopeless, I’m on the verge of tears. I blink rapidly to keep myself from crying over a boy who, twenty-four hours ago, I couldn’t have cared less about. I’m being ridiculous. I know. But right in this moment, I have bigger concerns than whether or not my tears would be justified if I were to start crying.

          My heart knocks madly against my chest. What if something really did happen to him? What if I’m stranded out here alone and I have to rely on myself to find my way back home and survive in the Alaskan wilderness on my own?

          I shake my head and scream louder. “Alaska!” Terror seeps from my shaking voice. Where is he?

          “Alas—“

          “I’m here; I’m here. What’s wrong?” I whirl around and it’s like the air around me deflates and is suddenly ten times lighter than it was before. My shoulders sag as I catch sight of the familiar curly head of brown hair rushing toward me.