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I can feel Jen relax a bit as she takes it all in. She tucks her hair behind her ears and scans the area, likely searching for Nick. Lost in my thoughts, I only vaguely listen to the surrounding conversations. It’s not until Jen suddenly shoots up from her seat, breaking into a huge smile, that I realize Nick has finally made his appearance.
Zoey then strolls up beside him, hanging on his arm.
Jen’s shoulders sag, wilting as she drops back into her seat.
I take her hand and squeeze it, giving her a reassuring smile. “It’s okay,” I murmur, leaning closer so she can hear me. “We don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.”
She takes a deep breath before plastering on a smile as Nick approaches us.
“Hey, guys! Glad you made it,” he says cheerfully, bending to hug her, his eyes lingering on her as he pulls away. For a moment, there’s something unspoken between them.
Zoey pushes herself in front of him and grins widely at us both. I raise my brow as I watch Jen’s expression momentarily harden before softening into a polite smile. What’s that all about?
“Hi, Zoey. Nick. It’s good to see you,” I say, trying to pivot the conversation.
Nick’s gaze shifts to the paper bag, and his eyes light up. “Donuts!” he exclaims in delight, like a kid spotting a sack of candy.
“Have some,” Jen says, holding the bag up.
With a bright smile, he pulls a pastry from the bag and eagerly unwraps it. “This is amazing,” he mumbles between bites. “As usual.”
Jen offers Zoey the bag, but she holds up a hand and shakes her hand. “No thanks. I’m on a diet. Trying to avoid sugar and fat.”
Nick glances between Jen and Zoey, his brow creased in confusion. It looks like he wants to say something, but then pauses and takes another bite of donut instead. The silence between us is awkward, and I grab a donut from the bag to keep my mouth occupied.
As we finish our donuts, Zoey grabs Nick’s hand, and he waves at us with an apologetic half-shrug as they disappear into the crowd of college kids. I sigh in relief; the tension had been palpable, and I’m glad for a chance to break it. Jen slouches, gripping the bag with white knuckles, her expression strained.
“Are you alright?” I ask gently.
She smiles weakly. “I’m okay,” she says after a moment, her voice wavering slightly as she looks away. I know she’s not being honest—and she knows I know—but she keeps up the lie. And I let her. “I’m gonna add the donuts to the snack pile. Want any more in case they’re inhaled in a nanosecond?”
“Nah, it’s fine.” I get up and stretch. “I sure could use a drink, though.”
We laugh and go over to the picnic table. On top of it is a slew of snacks and a few coolers with various drinks. I grab a can of hard iced tea and a package of nuts before returning to our place near the bonfire. Jen soon joins me, and I take note of the strong drink she immediately throws back.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” I ask, watching as she chugs half the bottle.
She shakes her head and continues drinking, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand after she’s done. “Don’t worry about me.”
I take a sip of my drink and shrug, though I can’t help but feel something is off. A feeling of sadness pinches my chest as Jen continues to ignore what’s obviously bothering her. Her mood has taken a turn for the worse since Nick and Zoey showed up. And it isn’t difficult to put together the pieces.
We sit in companionable silence as Jen pounds back two more drinks. At this rate, I’ll end up being the designated driver. Eventually, my bladder twinges, signaling my departure for the bathroom.
“Where’s the restroom?” I ask Jen.
She blinks, taking a moment to reply. “Over there,” she points, “close to the woods. There’s a few porta-potties.”
Hesitantly, I glance in the direction she’s gesturing toward. “Thanks, Jen. I’ll be back.”
I make my way toward the bathrooms, staying close to the light from the bonfire. Uneasiness crawls up my spine; I don’t like the idea of being out in the dark all alone. Thankfully, I see a few other people making their way to and from the toilet area. Taking that as a sign of reassurance, I hurry past them and duck into the closest empty porta-potty.
The smell of mildew and urine hits me as soon as I close the door. A foul chemical odor also clings to the walls. Trying to ignore it, I do my business. But the uneasy feeling returns. I open the door a crack to let some light in and use hand sanitizer to clean my hands. Ugh. I hate porta-potties, I think—as a shadow passes by the crack.
I return the hand sanitizer to its place and steel myself for a peek outside. My pulse thrums as I peer out the crack, keeping most of my body hidden. A tall figure suddenly moves into frame, illuminated by the firelight. I stifle a gasp as he stares at me for what feels like an eternity before finally breaking his gaze and walking away—toward the woods.
It’s him!
I remain still, my heart pounding in my chest as I process the situation. He must have seen me come in here, and yet he didn’t do or say anything. Just waited for me. Once I regain my composure, I make sure no one is around before slipping out and fixing my eyes on the woods. I hesitate, my breath quickening when he appears again. He motions for me to follow before vanishing amongst the trees.
