Finding Faith (2)

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

"Dammit Alyssa!" I smirk as Ryan shout's at Alyssa's caved in tent, "that's exactly how you aren't supposed to set it up. Not to mention, unless you want to wake up in a puddle of water tomorrow morning, I'd suggest you put a tarp underneath to keep your tent dry."

I look up from my own, properly set up tent, and chuck my extra tarp over towards Alyssa's distressed figure. "Take this."

"Thank you," she says slightly annoyed and snatched it up off the moss, while Ryan moves the neon orange the tent to the side so she can slip it under, potentially shielding it from the wet moss underneath. Once Ryan has helped her pitch the tent properly, he gives her a pointed look, "and what's that supposed to mean?" she snorts.

"Oh, wonderful Ryan! I thank you so much for helping me set up this troublesome thing. If it wasn't for you, I don't think I could have ever managed, and I shudder to think of me waking up in a puddle of water, drenched to the bone," Ryan says in a squeaky voice, which I am pretty sure is meant to sound like one a girl may use.

"Wow, Ryan," I laugh, and walk over to pat his shoulder, "you sound so natural when ya pretend to talk like a girl. Do you practice a lot?"

"Right," he says sarcastically, while crossing his arms, "cause I just totally walk around my house pretending to be some chick with a high pitched alto, and I'm always like, 'oh my gosh! I'm totally going to the mall now!'"

Alyssa bites her lip to keep back laughter. "Got to admit. You do a mean job at that impersonation."

I close my eyes, and nod. "He totally does."

Ryan rolls his eyes. "I'm so glad you guys have had a good time making fun of me. Isn't it just everyone's favourite thing to do."

I purse my lips. "Two out of three of the people here say that yes, it is."

"Girls," he shakes his head, "never can trust 'em, can ya?"

I nudge him. "What's that mean?"

"That just when you think you've met em half way, they turn on ya, and ya relaxed that no, they're just the same, crazy-"

"Yeah, yeah," I step back, "we get it. Relax Ryan, we're just having a little bit of fun with ya, eh?"

"That's where it all starts," he says sincerely, "just a little it of fun, leads to suicide. All of a sudden, you go home, and there's a person hanging in their closet, or slit wrists, cause they just couldn't bear the fact that they were teased so badly."

"Well I have a strong feeling that you are not one of those people," I say, relenting immediately. It makes me kind of sad that people would take their own lives because of this stuff. I mean, when my parents died, life didn't feel worth living, but that didn't mean I'd just kill myself over it. It makes the human brain wonder how it's possible for someone to feel that much pain and hurt.

Alyssa walks over to her backpack, leaving the squabbling to us, and pulls out two cans. I'm too far away to read the labels, but I'm betting that whatever the metal containers contain it'll end up being our dinner. "Anyone up for some refried beans?"

"I'm pretty sure that I'd rather puke," I gag, cringing away from her outstretched arm. It's not that I'd die if I ate beans, but I have a bit of a bad experience with them. I don't think I'll ever get it out of my head.

Turning one of the cans over in her hands, Alyssa shoots me a strange look, and raises an eyebrow. "You don't like re friend beans? What are you? Crazy? Are you possessed?"