fucked me when I was seventeen—exactly why I'd lied in the first place.
Dylan finally broke our stare-down with a glance at his heavy, black watch. "You've got two hours to find your way back to the cabins. Anyone who doesn't make it to the mess hall in time gets sent home. I don't give a fuck how much your daddies paid to send you here, I won't waste my time or resources on lost causes." Another sharp glare went my direction, and the other guys noticed.
My neck burned with a blush as they side-eyed me and snickered. Clearly, they all thought I was going home today. Well, I'd simply have to prove them wrong.
Somehow.
"Well?" Dylan roared. "What the fuck are you waiting for?"
The guys around me scrambled for their shit, throwing their packs on and running out of the clearing. Ben caught my eye, though, and I paused before following my fellow campers. He tipped his head slightly toward the opposite side of the clearing. I frowned in the direction he was indicating, but... I had no freaking idea what he was trying to tell me.
"Are you waiting for one of us to show you the way, Lawson?" Dylan snapped.
I jumped and realized I was the only camper left. It was just me and the guides.
Blinking several times, I tried to find the right words for a snappy comeback. Sometimes I used to dream about being one of those ballsy, confident girls. Like Riley Duboise. She was the definition of a badass chick; it was no freaking wonder Dylan was so in love with her... even if she was his best friend's girl.
Me? I could barely even mumble an excuse as I headed in the direction Ben had indicated. He seemed nice and I wasn't dumb enough to think it was a simple case of returning the way we'd come up, so I was going to take a chance.
"Where do you think you're going, Brooklyn?" Matthew called out before I’d even made it a few paces. I hesitated, looking over at him, and found all the guides watching me with varying degrees of curiosity and interest. "The trail is that way." He jerked his thumb in the direction all the other campers had gone.
Now I was even more confident I needed to follow Ben's hint.
"Okay." I shifted on my feet, uncomfortable with so much attention on me. The weight of Dylan's gaze alone was suffocating. "Dylan didn't say we had to take that trail, just that we needed to get back to the cabins." My gaze flickered over at him, but as I was trying really freaking hard to pretend he wasn't there, I shifted my attention straight back to Matthew. "Do we?"
A small smile pulled at Matthews lips, and stuffing his hands into his pockets, he gave me a nod. "Alright. Good luck then."
I frowned, nervous that I was making a bad decision. No one else spoke, not even Dylan. But from the corner of my eye I caught Ben’s tiny nod, and it gave me confidence.
"Okay. Thanks." I adjusted my pack a little—it was heavy as crap—then awkwardly continued in the direction I'd been going. My skin prickled with all those eyes on me, but as I drew closer to the trees, I spotted a small marker. A painted rock.
Bingo. I was going to bet I’d just found a shortcut back to the camp.
Take that, Dylan grumpy asshole Grant.
When I was too far away to hear voices, I took a quick pee break, downed some water and another energy bar, and then set off, determined I would be back in well under two hours.
As I passed more markers, my joy at getting one up on Dylan, without resorting to sass or sarcasm, bloomed to life. Sure, I'd had a little nudge from Ben, but I'd been brave enough to take the chance and I would count it as a victory. I was sorely lacking in those lately.
This path was relatively clear of any issues, being mostly a downward incline leading me straight to the main camp. I didn't have a watch or phone, so I didn’t know for sure how long it had taken, but it felt like maybe thirty minutes at the most. As I made my way to the largest building—the mess hall?—I didn’t see any of the other campers here, despite them setting off before me.
Not wanting to celebrate too soon, I kept my eyes peeled for any sort of ambush, and just as I