Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
A raven’s throaty warble draws my attention upward. It’s perched on the top of the totem pole in front of me. I’d walked past the lodge without realizing it.
Instinctively, I reach inside my jacket for my phone to take a picture, since the totem at the top of the pole is a raven too, and with the fog as a background, it would make a stunning photo. But my fingers grasp nothing, and I remember my phone is gone, and I won’t be able to look at it for a hella long time. The idea makes me feel twitchy, like I’m missing a limb, but I remind myself again that it’s for the best.
I take my watch out of my pocket. Still have forty-five minutes to kill. I could go to my room and unpack, but it seems too daunting at the moment. I could wait in the mess hall, but I don’t want to be that early, sitting all alone.
I decide to walk toward the gazebo, following the stone path as it undulates between salal bushes, the wet, rubbery leaves brushing against my legs, leaving damp spots on my jeans.
The mini peninsula that the gazebo is built on is treeless, mostly rocky outcrops and moss, giving an unobstructed view of the inlet—on a clear day, that is. Right now, all I can see is the dock and the blanket of fog. Somewhere beyond it is the wild North Pacific Ocean, reefs and rocks and small islets breaking up their force until only gentle waves roll into the inlet. It’s calm here, peaceful, and I sit on top of the picnic table, trying to do some deep breathing exercises. I hear the cry of a bald eagle, but the rest of it remains a ghost.
I tell myself it’s okay to be sad sometimes. I tell myself that what’s done is done. I tell myself that no matter what happens, even if they find out tomorrow morning that I lost my scholarship and I’m sent back home, I’ll be alright.
And where is home? I think, panic simmering. I have no home anymore. I turned in my keys. I can’t live on campus. I’ll have to find a job when I get back, but until I do, I’ll have nowhere to stay. It’s not like I can afford to live in the Bay Area anymore, but where will I go?
I’m so very fucked.
I run my fingers over the old wood of the picnic table, over the carved initials and tag lines.
EJ+MP.
Nick smells like surfer bro.
Martin loves Amy.
Don’t eat the walking ones, don’t eat the talking ones.
Jessica is a…
Someone had written something, and then it’s been crossed out.
Don’t trust any of them.
They’re all lying to you.
I pause over that one just as I hear a rustle in the bushes behind me.
I twist around to see a flash of a pastel pink hijab and a smiling, warm face.
My heart leaps.
Amani?
“Come on, Syd!” Amani yells at me, waving her hand. “You’ll be late for dinner!” Then she turns and runs off into the bushes.
“Wait!” I yell, getting to my feet and bursting out of the gazebo. “Amani?”
I nearly slip on the moss, but I gain my balance and run down the path, trying to catch up, but she’s damn fast.
By the time the main lodge comes into view, she’s disappeared.
“Amani!” I yell, looking around, only to see Lauren, Munawar, and another guy step out of the building.
“Hey, tuba girl!” Munawar greets.
I run up to them. “Have you seen Amani?”
Lauren frowns. “Who?”
“Amani,” I say, scouring the area. “She has a pink hijab. She wasn’t in the class, but she was on my plane.”
Lauren shakes her head. “No, I haven’t seen anyone like that here. Ready for dinner?”
“I guess,” I say reluctantly. Amani had said I would be late. Maybe she’s already inside the mess hall.
“I’m Justin,” the other guy says as we start walking. “Justin Wong.” He’s cute, tall, with thick black hair and a cocky smile. From the way his zip-up fleece fits him, it seems he works out too. “I did actually play the tuba in high school.”
I laugh. “Maybe Nick got his wires crossed.” I pause. “Hey, does it bother you guys that we aren’t going to be working in the lab that much?”
“Lab work bores me,” Lauren says cheerfully. “My major is forest biology. University of Victoria. I’m more happy to be out in the woods than in the lab.”
“I’m doing marine science,” Justin says. “I’ll be in the floating lab when I’m not in the water.”
I look over at Munawar and his fungi shirt. He smiles and nods at me. “I’m just happy to be here.”
I feel I should be taking an example from him.
We enter the mess hall, which is a lot more elegant than the name implies. It resembles the common room of the main lodge, except there are long wooden tables done up with red checkered placemats and comfy-looking chairs. While the fireplace crackles and burns at one end, at the other is a bustling kitchen, the smell of roast chicken in the air.