A/N: I don't know why this chapter didn't show up for some of you at first... so I apologize for the confusion by reuploading it. This is not a new chapter, but hopefully this solves the temperamental attitude of this site. I knew one day I'd break it. Thank you SO MUCH for everyone who reviewed the chapter before. I wish I could have saved them because you all had awesome feedback, but I'd rather have more people read the chapter than have more reviews. Thank you so much... the next chapter will be out sooner than anticipated due to the time crunch.

I finished writing this story last night, there are going to be a total of thirteen chapters. Thank you so much for reading and for the incredible response. I hope you like this chapter.

"Memories may fade as the years go by but they won't age a day."

~Michelle C. Ustaszeski~

"On a scale of one to ten, how much of an asshole am I?"

I kicked a rock with my sneaker, watching it roll until it bounced on a sturdy root and disappeared into the thick vegetation that rimmed the edges of the trail. For a long moment, I simply stared after the ghost of the stone, tilting my head ever so slightly to test if I could see the dull surface any longer. Of course, in the dirt, it was impossible to find – lost in the foundation of the earth, but not altering the scheme of the world.

Swallowing slowly, I peered up to see Chad was staring down at me with both self torture and question. His ringlets were held into place by a bandana that wrapped tightly around his head. I sighed and was thankful that the sun was hidden behind the clouds that morning. It wasn't quite as scorching as the past twelve days we had been at the cabin, but still warm enough that my black beater and red shorts clung to my body.

"On a scale of one to ten?" I asked, running my fingers over the sticky surface of my arm and shrugged, "About a thirty-nine."

"Fuck." Chad let out a breath and allowed his head to snap back until it connected with the bark of a tree.

The best friend in me wanted to feel sympathy towards his angst. The lines that had permanently stretched across his face in the past three days since "The Incident" – the title Troy and I labeled the argument we witnessed – occurred. In that time, the second Cold War had burst between the shackles of the cabin. After Chad woke up that next morning with a throbbing headache and his stomach rejecting any food he attempted to keep down, he had attempted to make amends with the still fuming Taylor. Of course, being as hardheaded as she was, she refused to even look at him. Since then, a sinister tension slithered between the legs of the occupants in the cabin. Everyone else had felt it – apart from Sharpay, who was completely oblivious that she was the cause. If not, then she just didn't care that she had ripped them apart.

Chad blinked several times, avoiding my gaze as he ran his foot over the bumpy surface of the dirt floor. Gentle leaves hanging from the trees danced politely in the careful breeze. Although I was content with the weather not threatening to suck me dry of liquids as it had last week, I couldn't deny that I was disappointed I couldn't spend the day in the sunlight. We were to leave in two days – only forty-eight more hours until reality was bestowed upon me once again.

"Can I ask you something?" I questioned as my sneakers began to press forward once again. Chad immediately jumped from his position against the tree and followed my direction back to the cabin – back to where my heart was aching toward.

He sent me a sad smile, "I'm scared." He teased, bumping my shoulder against his.

"Why'd you do it?"

I didn't know if he was expecting this question or if he had just been asking himself this very thing since he sobered up. Without hesitation, he shrugged his muscular shoulders and glanced down at me – a burnt gaze smoldering and hot.

"Gabs, I was smashed." He reminded me, though I didn't need it. The image of his penis standing at attention was forever scarred into my mind, "I went upstairs to sleep it off and the next thing I knew, the bitch's lips were on my…"

"Okay, okay… I don't need the commentary." I placed my hands over my ears and squeezed my eyes shut, attempting to block out all images of a very naked Sharpay Evans sprawled out all over Chad's body. Creaking an eyelid open again, I looked to see that his brows were pulled together in judgment, "You still knew what you were doing, Chad."

The twigs beneath our feet snapped in synchrony. I began to recognize the specifics of the atmosphere: the perfect alignment of the knots in the trees and the thinning of the forest. In anticipation, my heart began to hammer against my chest at what I knew was waiting for me just beyond the corner.

"I didn't think she'd flip shit. Honestly, I didn't think about her at all." Chad confessed, hiking the shorts up further on his hips, though still letting the boxer hemline show, "It's college…people fuck each other all the time."

"Tay's just not into that sort of thing though, Chad. You of all people know that." I reminded him softly, pushing back a branch to clear the way, "Sex isn't casual for her. Besides, I wouldn't want Chris fucking someone in my bed. That's just weird."

Chad turned to me with a raised eyebrow, "What about you?"

"What about me?"

For the first time since we left for our walk, Chad smiled his bright grin at me, "What's your opinion of hooking up?"

I knew where this was leading before he said anymore – it had been consuming my thoughts for the past few days. Obviously, ever since the poker game, my body wanted Troy Bolton – all of Troy Bolton. The lack of privacy these past few days only intensified my need to be in his arms once again. We barely had had any time alone since The Incident due to the fact that the gang was constantly shuffling between two groups: one focusing on spending time with Chad and the other with Taylor. We took even shifts, but somehow it always managed to arrange itself so Troy and I were split up. Of course, given that we now had a new addition to our slumber parties, the tension and longing between us was breeching unbearable.

We both wanted each other; it was obvious in the way that we caught lustful glances. The only restraint I had was what would happen after we reached cohesion.

Looking up into the gray sky, I sighed once again, "I've hooked up with guys when I haven't been in relationships, but I would never have sex with anyone I didn't love."

"But if you loved them, you'd fuck them." Chad said cheekily.

I knew my thoughts were slutty – I had only been reacquainted with Troy for less than two weeks and I already wanted him in my pants. But there was an undertow of something more than just a saucy booty call. The love that had been dormant within me suddenly flowed easily through my veins. It was as though time had never lapsed; the summer that we had fallen in love was as close as it ever had been before.

"In theory, yes."

Snickering, Chad bumped my elbow again, "I'll be sure to pass on the message."

I smacked the back of his head, which was useless given that his coils absorbed most of the contact, "Don't you dare-"

My threat was useless, however, when we finally stepped off of the path and into the clearing that I knew so very well. The cabin stood as it always had, but of course, that's not what captivated my attention. Instead, I was focused on the figure that sat upon the porch – the position of his body behind the pillars that held up the fence made him appear as though he were in prison. As always, Chad faded in the distance of trees and brush when I watched the shadow's head snap at the sound of my crunching against the ground.

Troy immediately shut whatever magazine he was reading – Sports Illustrated, I'd presume – and rattled the wood that adorned the cabin when he jumped to his feet. I felt a magnetic pull within my chest as he hurried towards the steps, leaping down two at a time. Matching his desperation, my strides lengthened until I was sprinting across the driveway, avoiding Taylor's parent's SUV. I didn't know what I was running for – more time to be in his arms or because I missed him so much. It didn't matter; before long, my arms were thrown around his neck and he was arching his body to press against every inch of me.

I buried myself within him for idiotic reasons. My conference with Chad hadn't lasted very long, but I felt that time was precious these days. I didn't know Troy intentions – I would deal with the consequences of this at a later date. For now, being separated from him for so long and the lack of solitude between us made every reunion memorable. He felt it too; I could tell by the way his arms were crossed on my lower back and gripping my hips. His face was in my neck, moving his lips in a motion that wasn't quite a kiss, but just as intimate.

Smiling and closing my eyes, I rubbed my forehead against his chin to silently inform him how incredible this moment felt for me. Troy folded me closer – if that was even possible – into his chest.

"Hey…" He mumbled into my ear and chuckled at the simplicity of his greeting in comparison to the passion of the hug.

"Hi." I whispered back and felt the magnets within us realign. This time, they pulled between our mouths – never once did either of us look at each other nor did we pull away before my tongue was in a war with his. Instead, we dragged our lips until we were fused.

It didn't take long until my bones became jello. His hands were suddenly in my hair, massaging deep circles against my scalp. To return the stimulating favor, I pressed my middle finger in the center of his back – above his blue t-shirt – and slowly began to outline each and every division in his spine. He trembled beneath my touch, making me feel both powerful and vulnerable at the same time.

It wasn't until an obnoxious cough echoed from behind that I remembered where I was and who was in our presence.

"Really, guys?" Chad whined with a snicker when my head whirled around and my long locks smacked against Troy's chin. By the way his white teeth showed brightly against his dark skin, I knew he wasn't upset with our public display of affection – rather, pornstar-worthy make out session.

"Fuck off." Troy didn't release me, or even bother to loosen his grip for that matter. Instead, his head dipped to my shoulder and began to pepper sweet kisses to the exposure of my skin. However, I did feel a momentary wash of cool breeze when Troy lifted his hand. I didn't have to look behind me to know that he was giving Chad the finger.

However, instead of returning the insult, I suddenly heard a stampede against the gravel. Before I could gasp or brace myself for the onslaught, a brick wall crashed into my back. For a moment, the wind was knocked out of me, but then I felt the warm embrace of Chad holding both of us tightly from behind my back. Giggling hysterically, I couldn't catch my breath and was thankful that I was sandwiched between the two, or I would have toppled over in uncontrollable laughter.

"Chad!"I complained, wiggling between them. Troy was laughing just as much as I was, but still possessively pulling me closer, "Let go!"

"I wanted to feel the love too!" Chad sung before ruffling the top of my head. I tried to slap him away, but unfortunately my hands were still wrapped tightly around Troy's waist – not that I wanted to let him go anyways.

"Dude… you're so fucked up." Troy grumbled in my ear, but still nuzzling the top of my head.

"It's the three of us again, just like old times."

My eyes immediately closed at the statement. On cue, I felt Troy's body stiffen at the reference to the life he never knew. Chad couldn't feel the shift of air, but I did – I was slammed with the pain as though it belonged to me. My fingers ran over the surface of his back, trying to soothe the tension that poisoned his definition. Attempting to peer up at him, I could only see the shadows of the chin he had tucked me under. I kissed his Adam 's apple to let him know I was here; that I wasn't going anywhere.

"Do you think she can breathe down there?" Chad asked teasingly. I did my best to try and kick his shin from behind, but failed and only managed to twist my leg between his.

Finally, Chad released me from the prison he had kept me in. It took a few more seconds before Troy found the strength to let me go. I didn't move at first, but then realized that we couldn't stand here forever. It almost hurt to pull away from him and receive a weak smile – a pathetic assurance that he was okay. Our hands, simultaneously, reached for each other's and laced between the divisions of our fingers: a perfect fit.

Troy looked up at his best guy friend and nodded his head towards the front door, "You think it's safe in there, man?"

Chad met his gaze for a long moment before he simply shrugged, indifferently.

"Doesn't really matter, does it?"

With that, he spun towards the screen door and took a deep breath before he stepped inside, a solider ready for battle.

"I give it two minutes before pans are thrown." I mumbled under my breath.

With a sigh, Troy turned and pressed his lips to my forehead, "I'll protect you."

A long smirk drew over my cheeks, "Not if I protect you first."

"Am I distracting you?" Troy's voice whispered softly into my ear. It was a tone a recognized – partial teasing, partial concern.

I smiled softly and shook my head before turning the page in my novel. We were entwined on the couch: my legs weaved between his thigh, my back resting against the arm of the furniture, and his arm encircling my waist. Every so often, his fingers would push the cascading curls falling down my shoulders aside and would nip endearingly behind my ear. This would induce giggles, but I tried my hardest to remained focused on my book – I didn't want to give him the ultimate satisfaction of knowing that he could simply control all of my thoughts with longing touches. However, this restraint was getting increasingly difficult as he began to stroke the top of my head, resting his elbow on my shoulder.

"You're fine." I promised and furrowed my eyebrows once again, attempting to concentrate on the words that were spelled out before me. Instead, they were being read, but not processed. I was too busy feeling the tingles rush down my side as Troy's fingers drew soft circles against my hip.

"I kinda hope they get lost out there." Troy commented candidly, referencing the fact that Jason, Chad and Sharpay had decided they were going to head down to the edge of the lake and pray that the sun would eventually break the cloud cover. Of course, Taylor had refused to go anywhere with Barbie and Chad, therefore she had opted to stay behind. Zeke offered to keep her company - given that Troy and I had already declined with a hope of getting time alone, I figured Taylor hadn't wanted to be a third wheel.

Giggling, I caught a glance to the side to see him looking at me with pure devotion, "That's not very nice."

He shrugged, making my body rise as well, "I wanted to be antisocial."

"Then maybe you should go lock yourself in one of the bedrooms." I teased with a playful nudge of my elbow against his abs. It did little to harm him – his muscles were steel.

"Shut up." He growled in my ear before nipping upon it.

"You don't have to sit here, you know." I offered quietly, peering up from my pages to see that his forehead was resting against my temple. I felt shivers rush through me and succumbed to nuzzling against him as well, "Watching me is probably boring…and if you wanna talk to… to Zeke… and…"

My voice was trailing with every kiss he pressed to neck. I could hear him chuckling lowly in my ear, but my eyes instinctively fluttered closed as I turned toward him. The low hum of Zeke and Taylor's discussion at the kitchen table – most likely about a certain fuzzy haired friend – faded in the blend of Troy's gentle moan.

"Definitely. Not. Boring." He said between kisses before his lips sought mine. Immediately, my hand cupped his cheek to bring him closer. The novel dropped into my lap as my other hand threaded into the back of his hair. Our lips moved slowly, but not cautiously. We were enjoying the brief moments of isolation from the rest of the world – even if our friends were sitting a few feet away from us.

He broke the kiss before I could really consume myself with it. I don't know how or when it happened, but Troy had magically managed to wiggle his way so that we were both lounging in a position that wasn't quite sitting nor was it horizontal. All I knew was that his torso was between my split legs and his eyes were dark with desire – azure with allure.

"Come with me tonight." He passionately requested, his fingers threading between mine.

I bit my lip at the sexual inclination of that statement, "What does 'coming' entail, Mr. Bolton?"

He flashed me a smile that dripped with eroticism, swooping his head lower until his lips were mere millimeters away from mine, "Whatever you want it to." He then kissed me slowly.

Responsibility was screaming at me to push him off and to keep it in his pants, but the wild sixteen year-old that thrived off of memories of Troy's embrace shushed all mentions of doubt. Obviously, due to the way he was so causal about intimacy, it was clear that he wasn't looking for anything special. But I couldn't help but feel special when I was with him. The twinkle in his eyes, like at that moment, was enough to hypnotize me into having all of him, like my heart and body wanted. It was my head that was attempting to flash painful images of his scarred face in the hospital and reminded me of the emptiness in his voice when he asked who I was.

I swallowed thickly and switched my attention between both of his irises. He was holding his breath, for his chest stopped moving up and down, waiting for my verdict.

"Troy," reason attempted to surface as I placed my hand on his shoulder, "I don't know if it's-"

"Gabi," he breathed my name exactly the way he had when he was in love with me, "We only have two nights until we head back.."

"I don't-"

"Gabriella," persuasion and passion dripped through his tone, "it doesn't have to be messy," he was referencing sex, "but please… I don't want interruptions and I don't want people fucking screaming about shit I don't care about. I just want, for one night… for you to be mine."

I wanted to tell him I had always been his. Time hadn't changed that.

"Please," he whispered again, never once faltering his gaze from mine, "There's only us tonight. No one else…"

I deliberated the possibilities as quickly as possible. If I agreed to go with him – where ever the hell he had planned – then I was running the risk of crushing my heart again. It certainly wouldn't be his fault; it would be mine, for allowing him to use my body in only satisfaction and then tossing it away like yesterday's garbage. But another side of me, a deeper side, saw the way his eyes were glowing with adoration. He just promised that if I didn't want to have sex, we didn't have to. There were no expectations other than he wanted to be with me and no one else was to be around. It was what I was wishing for since The Incident occurred, why would I deny myself of that?

Taking a deep breath, I leaned up upon my elbows to allow myself access to press my lips to his. It wasn't a peck nor was it a French, but it was soft and tender enough to make him smile brightly into the kiss, making it difficult to continue.

"Where are we going?" I asked when we broke apart. Troy chuckled and slowly brought himself back so he was in a fully seated position once again. He brought me with, sprawling my legs over his lap and still keeping a hand stationed on my hip.

"I could tell you… but that wouldn't be as fun."

I slapped his chest, "You're such a dick."

"You want my what?"

Rolling my eyes, I wiggled out of his grasp and placed my hands just above his shoulders, caging him in, "Keep dreaming." He looked up at me with a smirk, making me peck his lips once again before I found the strength to finally turn back to see Zeke and Taylor were still huddled over at the kitchen table, "What time do you want me ready?" I asked without glancing down at him. His fingers grazed the back of my palm, but didn't grab it or make a motion to capture my attention again.

"Eight-thirty," he answered, "and wear something comfortable."

The idea of being able to be in comfortable clothing suddenly eased my nerves. Still not glancing at him, I suddenly removed my hand from his and began a slow walk in the direction of the kitchen. The words and phrases being mumbled at the table could soon be distinguished when I finally made it to my destination, placing my hands onto the back of the chair and squeezing the rungs tightly. Neither looked up, nor acknowledged me.

"I just don't think that it was necessary, don't you?" Taylor's eyes were black and sharp – drilled upon Zeke, though completely dry.

"He was drunk, Taylor. You have to remember that."

Her jaw ground – I thought she was going to unleash her claws, "That does not excuse him from doing her in my bed."

I didn't think either of them noticed my presence - so I nonchalantly bumped the furniture to gather their attention.

"Gabs!" Zeke jumped as soon as I smiled innocently at the two, finally capturing their attention. Taylor seemed less impressed with my actions; the scowl on her face still glowered in the dark room. The sun still hadn't come out yet, giving the atmosphere a chilly vibe, "You scared me."

"Whatcha guys talking about?" I asked, my voice being way too bubbly for my own good. On the couch, I heard the low sound of Troy's chuckle. For a brief moment, I contemplated throwing something at him, but then remembered that his face was too pretty to break.

"You're asshole of a best friend." Taylor hissed, not even bothering to cover up her irritation.

"Hey, I'm in the fucking room!" Troy yelled as he stood up from the couch. My heart skipped a beat – although I knew it was a tease – when his eyes turned to me and winked, "unless you've been lying to me about our status before, you know..."

I tried not to avert my eyes in shame – I was lying, just not about what he was joking about.

"Not you." Taylor snapped.

Weaving between his duffle bag and the other couch, Troy made his journey to the table and stood opposite to me. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wood, jutting his hip out in a way that was alluring, although it wasn't meant to be. I watched as his eyes darted across Taylor's face, scrutinizing her reaction, and waited for a protest for him to leave. After all, he was closer to the enemy in her eyes than he was to her.

"Can I ask you something?" He quietly requested in the most nonthreatening voice imaginable. I did my best not to answer for her.

"If you must."

Troy curled the side of his mouth up so that he was only half smiling, "Did you really think you'd ever marry the guy?"

The question was so forward that even my eyes popped out of my head. Zeke was silent, though his expression was just as bewildered as mine. Immediately, I whipped my head around to see if Taylor would be ready to release the whirlwind of her anger once again. However, I was surprised when I was greeted with a composed façade and her gaze never faltering. Troy took advantage of the silence – he slid easily up onto the table so he was seated and placed his bare feet on the seat of a chair. I smiled at the lax demeanor he held and then turned my attention back to see Taylor fanned her fingers onto the surface of the table.

"No. We're too different." She said boldly, without hesitation or fib.

This seemed to be the answer he was searching for; his grin grew again.

"Then Tay," his voice was soft, tender. Leaning forward, he placed a peaceful palm up and reached towards her, "don't get hung up on this. You and I both know you don't want to be. You don't deserve this anger."

The way he spoke was as though he was speaking to a lover: the flickers of his eyes across her face and the gingerly aurora he held. I knew this charm well. It was persuasion – a mystical talent he didn't know he possessed, but it was lethal once it trickled from his lips.

She was looking into his eyes, hypnotized by their beauty, "In my bed,Troy."

He placed a comforting hand upon her shoulder, "I know, Tay. I know. He's an idiot. Don't let him get to you. Not when you know it's done."

I expected the tears to fall then, for had I been in the possession that my love –Troy – was already moving on and I was being told to do the same. But Taylor's eyes still remained white against her darkened skin. A woman of logic and reason, she simply nodded and shrugged her shoulders in acceptance.

"I was just…l was supposed to be the one to move on first." Taylor confessed silently; the competitive nature of her personality showing through.

He smiled sadly, "Love's a bitch like that. It doesn't like to let you go."

I chewed on my lip; his eyes flashed up to mine for a brief moment, burning into my soul, before turning away without another word.

Standing in front of the mirror with the nerves jittering in my stomach and my knees knobbing together so loudly I was certain they would create their own stomp group, I knew I was going to be in for it tonight.

My hair was as perfect as it was going to get – tight with curls coiled down to each strand. The color matched the black swipe of mascara and eyeliner that rimmed my eyes, making the milky brown stand out. The brown hues were a contrast to my tank top that was tight enough to highlight the curves my mother had blessed me with, but not so that I was drowning as it reached the bottom of my jean shorts. A black, zip up sweatshirt was draped across the toilet, ready if he requested we spend our precious time together outside. Of course, this attempt for beauty was practically pointless – I was trembling so hard that one would mistake me for having epilepsy.

I felt as though I was a maiden ready to be de-flowered for the first time. Actually, the only other experience I had with this pure fear was three years previously – standing before the mirror, just as I was now, waiting for Troy to pick me up for our very first date. My eyes fluttered to a close, remembering how he took me to dinner at my favorite restaurant and then drove me to an empty park. We sat with our feet in the rushing water of a nearby stream when his fingers first innocently slipped into mine: a commencement of our love.

How time changed.

Taking a deep breath, I placed my hand upon my chest to steady my breathing. I realized I couldn't stall any longer; Troy was waiting impatiently on the level below. Shakily, I grabbed the sweatshirt and hung it over the side of my elbow. After collecting my phone from the counter and bumping an open drawer with my hip to hear it clatter to a close, I flicked the lights off and exited the bathroom.

It was eerily quiet as I walked through the hallway leading towards the stairs. There were long shadows that drew from the opened doors. Quick on my feet, I padded across the landing quickly – even if time was standing still in my anticipation.

The stairs were glowing a hazy gold as I descended them. The heat that spelled around me increased with every step that I took. Thank god I had enough wits not to tumble down from the top. The first floor slowly began to come into view. Once reaching the bottom, I took a deep breath and washed in the silence of the early night once again. There were low hums of voices floating through the open windows – my friends by the campfire or at the picnic table, wherever the division of Chad and Taylor harbored that night. I already anticipated the awkwardness of walking up to the group and pulling Troy away.

Until I heard a soft voice from behind me, "I thought I told you not to dress up."

Like a call of my name, I twirled around towards the couch to see where the sound originated from. My heart skipped a beat when I took sight of Troy with his sneakers propped up upon the coffee table and his back slouched against the cushions. A phone was cradled between his hands, but his eyes – intensified by the black v-neck that was his shirt – were drilled upon me.

"You call this dressing up?" I asked and had the urge to cross my arms over my chest in embarrassment. I didn't, of course. I needed to be as confident as possible.

"You look amazing." He said with a twinkle in his eye and a passion in his voice.

I smiled coyly and sadly as I lingered on the phone with curiosity, "Texting your girlfriend?" I teased, though a part of me was very serious.

"How'd you guess?" He joked, but noticed the way my gaze dropped to the floor. Immediately, he shook his head and eased his cell into the pocket of his khaki shorts, "Nah. Just a buddy back in Santa Fe."

Nodding, I tried to show that I wasn't affected or doubting him. Of course, given the magnitude of the situation between us, an underlying thread of jealousy rushed through me. For all I knew, he was lying to me and he had five girls stacked up at home, waiting for him to return so he could bone them. I didn't want the possibility of that stop me from enjoying the little time I had with him though – I wanted an emotional connection anyways.

Noting my hesitation, Troy stood up and gave me a comforting smile. He didn't pause as he walked towards me and placed his hands upon my upper arms. I looked up at him; he looked down at me. A fire burst in my heart as he leaned and pressed his lips against my forehead. I closed my eyes and reveled in the sensation of him lingering longer than he should have.

It was enough to comfort me that – at least for tonight – I was his.

"Are you going to tell me where we're going now?" I asked when he pulled away and released his grip on me. He grinned cheekily and turned around, not answering my question. Lost in the way his muscles contorted beneath his shirt as he reached down, I was momentarily blinded to the two vinyl bangs he stuffed under his arms – one black, one evergreen. When I blinked, I realized they were sleeping bags.

He turned around, his grin bright and shining, motioning towards one of those cheap reusable bags one finds at a grocery store to help save the environment, "Can you grab that?"

"Are we camping?" I quirked an eyebrow, I slung the bag over my shoulder and began to follow him towards the screen door.

Shrugging with a chuckle, he turned toward me once again, "Something like that. Come on… I don't the assholes to notice we've left."

He reached his hand out for me to take – a gesture of trust. I looked at it for a long moment, realizing that this was what I had been waiting for during the three years of his absence.

Biting my lip once again, I laced my fingers with his as he led me towards the unknown.