Gabriel: Prequel

twenty eight

[ gabe's pov]

"I hate bugs, guys. Why did we agree to this in the first place?"

"Camping was your idea, suck it up."

As Nicholas rightfully retorts, Rehan conjured the idea of camping a while ago but everyone had become increasingly busy, and the only time available happened to be on one of the hottest days of the year - the time of bugs thriving. We drove tens of miles away from home into a vast clearing space, shrouded by trees on either side of our tents that remain undone on the floor, thanks to their incessant squabbling.

"The sun is going to set, guys, maybe we should do the tents and stuff?" I ask, wary of the thought of sleeping on the floor. They murmur in agreement, setting up their tents away from each other. Attempting to stand the tent up, my fingers fumble against the material, and I fall to the ground, dejected. Honestly, I was looking forward to a retrieve away from the city: the ruthless nature of the gang and the shift at home now keeps me on a leash. I had already accepted that I won't be able to be some ruthless, inhumane gang member that can disregard everything in my life but greed, yet staying in the life for as long as I had to means that it could happen. Being someone who I wouldn't be able to recognise in the mirror anymore kept me on a tightrope, dictating every action I make going forward. 

"Here," Nicholas offers, swiftly tying his hair up before help me stand the tent. Sometimes, I wonder the same about Nicholas: the only real him was bare in front of Amancia, so, after her, he would have to look in the mirror at the same vulnerable anger everyday. 

"Thanks, I totally could've done it, though," I grin, wiping the dust off of my knees. His response is a not so subtle scoff as he lurks away, his shoes scuffing against the dirt. 

"Can I also have some assistance, too?" Rehan calls, his smooth, brown face crumpled up. I jog over to him, smoothly fixing the tent, securely pegging the tent down. The work renders me tired, however, and we split into separate ways as we walk busy ourselves. 

---------------------------------

The golden evening haze of the sun nudges the other two awake as I set to work on the fire. The raw texture of the branches sting against my palms as I rub them in haste, impatient for a fire. Eventually, stray embers spark and a fire catches, flooding light and warmth around us as we huddle closer, whilst everything else around us hides in the dark.

"Do we have food?" Rehan asks, searching in bags for something to eat. At the same time, Nicholas quietly brings out a packet of marshmallows, taking one out and impaling a stick into it, lightly wavering it over the fire.

Like him, we both follow suit, waiting in a comfortable silence for the marshmallows to brown. 

"This was a pretty nice idea, Ray," I nod, noticing the absence of worry inside of me.

"I always wanted to do it again - properly, anyway, after my family made shitty memories of it," he shrugs, turning the marshmallow this way and that repeatedly. 

Nicholas knocks Rehan's stick with his own, keeping it on one side, "Be patient."  And, so he is. 

"Why didn't Harper come?"

"She was busy with Darren, I guess. That, and she also said no, preferred Aubrey's company over ours."

"She doesn't really seem the same anymore," Rehan murmurs, wistfully looking over at the landscape behind me.

"Can you blame her, though?" Nicholas asks quietly, staring at the marshmallow browning. 

"No, I can't. I just miss how things used to be. To be honest, I'm kinda worried about how things are going to turn out," I admit, "I can't shake the feeling that it won't end well for us."

"Like a gut-wrenching, sick to the stomach feeling, huh?" 

"Exactly that."

"I felt it too, actually...when Amancia died. The night wasn't as serene as it should have been."

Silence falls over us as I look for the right words to console him with - but, perhaps I never will be able to, and he knows that. It may be something that I won't ever know how to help him with, actually. Instead, I pat his arm, desperately hoping he'll understand.

"I feel it too..when I get a bit hungry, actually," Rehan muses aloud, met with Nicholas' glare. Yikes.

A burning small wafts around as our attention is alerted to the darkened marshmallow. To my surprise, Nicholas emits a small snort at the snack, shaking his head. Rehan, to no one's surprise, eats it anyway, gasping at the heat. The sickly, burnt taste fills us up unpleasantly, and exhaustion washes over us. We retire to our tents slowly, no one bothering to say goodnight. As my head meets the tent material, my eyes don't shut tight despite the fighting fatigue. The glow of the moon pools around me, mocking me, disallowing me to sleep. Thoughts of Harper race around my mind tirelessly until I sit up straight, beads of sweat sticking to my skin. The tent feels as though it's closing on me and I race out of it, finding comfort outside by the exhausted fire. The other two are already sat out there, their faces devoid of any emotion. 

"I can't sleep," I admit, rubbing the nape of my neck as I sit in between them, my anxiety instantly settling at their presence. 

"Me neither," they both reply. 

Neither of us say why we're struggling to sleep but we all know that it's not because of the harsh moonlight or the lowly volume of insects. I don't remember when, but we eventually all fall into a deep slumber, our bodies turning towards each other, hoping to drown out our sorrows.