“You said you talked to her.” Deiss tried to scowl at me, but the corner of his mouth tilted up, betraying him. “I refuse to be a part of a group that has its own secret language. Especially one that just adds ola on the end of every word. It’s like living with Oompa Loompas.”
“I-ola did-ola talk-ola to-ola her-ola.” I smiled serenely. “In Ola-Speak.”
Deiss shook his head but grinned at me in a way that looked almost like admiration.
“Who’s next?” Simone asked when she finished cheering Phoebe on.
“The Ice Queen,” Mac said.
“Truth or dare?” Deiss asked.
I didn’t know why they were looking at me so expectantly. I always picked truth, and they were always disappointed.
“Truth,” I said.
Simone groaned.
“Ask her something embarrassing,” she ordered the guys. “Something filthy.”
Deiss nodded, and my heart sped up.
“What’s the worst thing that ever happened to you?” he asked.
“Deiss!” Simone glared at him.
He shrugged innocently. “Maybe the worst thing that ever happened to her was really dirty.”
I smiled as gratefully at him as I could, but my mind was already deep-diving. The worst thing that had ever happened to me. It was so obvious I didn’t even have to think of it. More accurately, I didn’t want to. Yet there it was, flashing through my mind in Technicolor.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t the time Mom and I lived in the car. It wasn’t even everyone in school finding out and taunting me about it. That was bad, but I knew I couldn’t have done anything to prevent it. My mom was the one who’d foolishly trusted her boyfriend when he said was taking care of the rent.
The worst thing didn’t happen until I was eighteen, just a couple of months before I left for college. My stomach cramped as I remembered opening the box I kept under my bed. I was so shocked to find it empty. For years, I’d kept everyone at school away from my house. But Cara was different. She’d already figured out that my carefully cultivated look was nothing more than a facade. And she liked me anyway.
Still, I was nervous the day I invited her to come over. I couldn’t help worrying she’d unearth some secret I’d forgotten I was hiding. The money I’d worked so hard for, bundled into a shoebox and tucked out of sight, hadn’t even been on my radar. It never once occurred to me that she would find it, much less steal it.
Obviously, it should have.
I wasn’t sure if I was more devastated about the loss or the realization I was destined to follow in my mom’s footsteps. I just knew I was devastated.
“Come on,” Simone said, squirming restlessly. “It’s my turn next. What’s the worst thing that ever happened to you?”
I met her gaze, feeling my mask shift softly into place.
“Bangs,” I said simply.
“Bangs?” Deiss’s obvious disappointment made me feel horribly shallow.
“Bangs,” I repeated with a flippant shrug. “They made my face look like the moon.”
CHAPTER 11
The sun fills the tent early the next morning, waking me from a restless sleep. The only sign that I didn’t dream the events of last night is the way my neatly folded clothes were smooshed when Deiss scooted into them. The tent is so tiny, it’s hard to believe we both were able to fit without being on top of each other. The memory of his mouth on mine flashes through my mind, and my cheeks flush with embarrassment.
I wish we were already back home. I’m not ready to see him again. I just want everything to be back the way it was.
Everyone is sitting around the campfire when I climb out of the tent. There’s a chill in the air, but I’m guessing the fire is more for the hot water for coffee than to provide heat. I clock Deiss leaning back against his backpack to the right but avoid his eyes, veering left to sit by Phoebe. The sky is cloudy and gray, rendering the green-and-brown landscape a drabber shade than it was yesterday. The bags Thato strung up last night are on the ground now, tattered and torn. I shiver at the sight of them.
“The elephants got them,” Phoebe says, sounding more excited than concerned as her eyes follow my gaze. “Thato said they ate most of the food.”
“We’re eating Phoebe’s Clif bars for breakfast,” Mac says. “I have dibs on the chocolate chip one, though.”
“You already ate two of them,” Deiss says, presumably to Mac, although I refuse to look at him to confirm. “If you want a third, you can eat the oatmeal raisin one that nobody wants.”