The Making of…
Chapter 49
Love You Mostest
I climbed out of the tent dressed in a dry turquoise t-shirt and washed out blue denim shorts with one of Viggo’s navy shirts thrown over the top. I towelled my damp hair vigorously before hanging the towel over one of the tent’s guy-ropes to dry. As an afterthought I reached back in and grabbed my cowboy hat – setting it on my head with a smile as I went to find the others. As I spotted them, I was suddenly glad I’d brought my hat – Team Cowboy seemed to have expanded to include Miranda and Bernard. It must be a Rohirrim thing. Most people were sitting in a circle around what appeared to be a campfire-barbeque hybrid that most of the men seemed to be poking with sticks.
“What is it with men and fire?” I grinned, sitting cross-legged beside Rylee.
“What is it with you guys and those hats?” She asked with a smile as I laughed.
“I have no idea – you should get a hat though. Everyone needs a hat.”
“Hats don’t suit me.” Raven retorted from across the circle.
“These hats would!” I argued.
“Then let me try yours on.”
“No! My hat!” I cried, clamping it defensively to my head as Viggo appeared and was swiftly accompanied by the reek of fish. “Ew, where have you been?” I asked.
“Gutting the fish.”
“Ew! Gross!” I shuddered and wrinkled my nose.
“Yep, I had blood all over my hands, wanna see?” He grinned, advancing upon me as I shrieked and scooted backwards.
“No!” I cried, even though I could see that his hands were clean – he only laughed and went over to the fire where a frying pan was sitting and started preparing the fish. “What’s the alternative to fish?” I asked.
“We have regular barbeque food.” Orlando replied, jabbing at the fire in fascination like a rebellious schoolboy.
“You don’t like fish?” Karl exclaimed as I shook my head.
“Nah… It’s too… Fishy.” I mumbled, grimacing a little as the smell of the cooking fish hit my nose.
“She doesn’t like it because she’s never tried my fish.” Viggo boasted from where he was sitting with his hissing frying pan extended across the crackling fire.
“Really? You seem pretty confident.” I snorted.
“I am.”
“I’m not eating fish.”
“Stubborn.”
“Yes I am.” I stuck my tongue out at him. I knew it was childish to refuse to try something new… But I wasn’texactly new to fish… I was set in my ways anyway.
“How about I make you a bet, huh?” Viggo asked and I raised an eyebrow.
“The stakes?”
“You try the fish, and if you like it you have to eat a whole portion.” He grinned.
“And if I don’t like it?”
“Well I can’t imagine why you wouldn't, but if I make you try it and you don’t like it… You can throw me in the lake.” He looked at me expectantly as I smirked.
“Alright, you’re on.” I nodded, “Bring on the fish.”
I waited patiently for Viggo to finish cooking, but with each passing second I was beginning to regret entering into the bet.
