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Next Morning
Jaime trudged along, back pack a little lighter than yesterday's. He had already pulled himself off the trail to puke up breakfast, last night's dream pulsing in his throat, pushing on the back of his tongue. He knew that Rowan could hear his retching from the three feet away that he stood, waiting, and with each heave Jaime willed his feelings to tumble into the bushes, to be pulled up with the acid and stomach lining.
He tried to not lift his feet too much, thought maybe if he walked slow enough he could be left behind. But no matter how slow he walked, Rowan made sure to walk slower, reluctant to give up his place as last in the line. He didn't speak anymore, hadn't said a word since last night's verbal frenzy on poetry and razors. He hadn't eaten breakfast either, but Sophie had made him take 2 energy bars. One of those energy bars was thrust into Jaime's hand. "Take it," Rowan said softly, not wanting Sophie to hear. Like she would. Jaime put it carefully into his bag. He didn't want to eat until his stomach stopped churning but it was something Rowan had touched.
Jaime sighed. So throwing up hadn't upchucked his heart too. Damn. Maybe I should stop lying to myself, he thought. Maybe I should actually accept the fact I have a rush on Rowan, that I'm in love with him, and that he and Ricky were joined in the way they didn't feel the same. But he didn't know that yet about Rowan. Maybe his dream had meant something; maybe Rowan felt the same way!
Jaime sighed cynically. Yeah right. Who the heck would fall in love with me? My God, I sound like a 13 girl with a bad case of PMS. He tripped over a root he wasn't paying attention to, sprawling out on the dusty past, scraping his right palm full of dirt and bits of twigs and rocks, and ripping a hole in his cargo pants.
Rowan offered his hand and shakily Jaime took it. He smeared blood on the olive skin and began walking again, trying to stop lying to himself.
Next Morning
Jaime trudged along, back pack a little lighter than yesterday's. He had already pulled himself off the trail to puke up breakfast, last night's dream pulsing in his throat, pushing on the back of his tongue. He knew that Rowan could hear his retching from the three feet away that he stood, waiting, and with each heave Jaime willed his feelings to tumble into the bushes, to be pulled up with the acid and stomach lining.
He tried to not lift his feet too much, thought maybe if he walked slow enough he could be left behind. But no matter how slow he walked, Rowan made sure to walk slower, reluctant to give up his place as last in the line. He didn't speak anymore, hadn't said a word since last night's verbal frenzy on poetry and razors. He hadn't eaten breakfast either, but Sophie had made him take 2 energy bars. One of those energy bars was thrust into Jaime's hand. "Take it," Rowan said softly, not wanting Sophie to hear. Like she would. Jaime put it carefully into his bag. He didn't want to eat until his stomach stopped churning but it was something Rowan had touched.
Jaime sighed. So throwing up hadn't upchucked his heart too. Damn. Maybe I should stop lying to myself, he thought. Maybe I should actually accept the fact I have a rush on Rowan, that I'm in love with him, and that he and Ricky were joined in the way they didn't feel the same. But he didn't know that yet about Rowan. Maybe his dream had meant something; maybe Rowan felt the same way!
Jaime sighed cynically. Yeah right. Who the heck would fall in love with me? My God, I sound like a 13 girl with a bad case of PMS. He tripped over a root he wasn't paying attention to, sprawling out on the dusty past, scraping his right palm full of dirt and bits of twigs and rocks, and ripping a hole in his cargo pants.
Rowan offered his hand and shakily Jaime took it. He smeared blood on the olive skin and began walking again, trying to stop lying to himself.