Silence Says | ✓

Chapter 4

Mark was talkative and energetic, and he brought those same traits out in Noah. As they made their way down the trail towards the lake, the two of them began a game of catch with a pinecone.

Toby focussed on the things they passed — the tiny lizards that scurried off into the undergrowth as they approached, the birds that screeched in the trees, the trickle of a barely there creek that intermittently curved in to run alongside the trail. His attention wasn't drawn back to Noah and Mark until a pinecone hit him in the chest.

Toby came to a halt and stared down at the pinecone, his eyebrows drawing together.

"You were supposed to catch it," Mark said quickly. "I wasn't..."

"He wasn't ready," Noah said as he bent down to pick up the fallen pinecone. "Okay, Toby, ready now?"

Toby stuck his hands in his armpits and shook his head firmly. "I'll drop it."

"It's a pinecone. It's not like you're gonna break it."

Noah didn't get it. Noah was good at sports. It was unlikely anyone had ever laughed at Noah's level of ability or groaned when they had to be teamed with him. Toby would drop the pinecone. He would drop it again and again and they'd see how terrible he was at something that came easy to them.

Toby's head dropped lower and he shook it again. "No."

Noah shrugged and tossed the pinecone to Mark, who just barely managed to catch it. "That's fine."

It wasn't, though. Toby had, once again, shown himself not to be fun. Toby was starting to get the feeling that Noah was the same kind of person his foster parents were. People who enjoyed looking after others. That wasn't friends, though, not in the same way Noah and Mark were friends. That was just charity.

Toby scuffed his shoes against the ground as he walked, kicking at loose rocks. He wasn't sure when he'd decided that he wanted to be Noah's friend, that he wanted Noah to think of him as a proper person and not just something to be taken care of. Maybe he'd always cared, just a little, from the very first moment those beautiful blue eyes had landed on him.

As soon as he saw the lake, Toby regretted turning down Noah's invitation to go for a walk along it yesterday. The surface of the large lake was calm and empty, but as they approached its shore Toby saw tiny fish dart away through the clear water. He wanted to take the walk now, to walk along the shoreline and examine all the critters that made this place their home.

That wasn't what they were there for, though. They were there to canoe. If Toby kicked up a fuss he would probably be allowed to sit out, but Toby wanted Noah there with him and Noah was clearly looking forward to the activity. Besides, that wasn't a very mature attitude. He'd been told that before. It's okay to say no, but you should give things a try when you can.

They followed the curve of the shoreline to where the other boys in their house had gathered between a large shed-like structure covered in peeling red paint and a dock that jutted out onto the lake. Noah reached a hand out to guide Toby out of the way as a couple of the boys made their way through the group, each carrying one end of a canoe.

"Two people to a canoe!" the camp counselor — a different one — shouted to the group. "You will each need a life jacket and an oar. Hurry up!"

Toby was almost certain that two people to a canoe meant he was sitting out after all, but it was Mark who lifted a hand in farewell to Noah and wandered off into the group in search of a partner. With a gentle hand on his back, Noah guided Toby into the shed.

Inside the shed at least two dozen canoes were stacked on racks, some too high for Toby to reach but probably not out of range of Noah's half head of extra height.