Pencils & Polaroids

55: the storyteller

"Is he here?" I ask Grayson when he opens the door. 

Rainer decamped once the final results were announced. I finished with a total of 180 points. Sadie Harper was second with 171 points. Samantha Welch was third with 168 points. And Rainer came fourth with 165 points. And it was Jayden Banks who made the fifth cut with 163 points—one point more than Grayson Finley. The top 5 were a close call but the margin I held was evidently noticed by everyone. 

Victory didn't taste that sweet. I couldn't possibly celebrate when everyone was clapping for me with a half-hearted smile. Julian Barcross complimenting me just made everything worse. Despite the effort Rainer put to keep a straight face, all of us could see right through it. 

All through I wondered if his sunken face was because he didn't top the table or because I did. 

"Congratulations, Miss Star of the camp." Grayson held out his hand. When I shook his hand a smile spilled from his face. "You deserve it." 

Did I really hear those words or has my mind resumed playing games with me? 

He's clearly read my amused expression, which is why he rolled his eyes whilst pocketing his hand. I nod, accepting the praise. "No party?" 

"It's not like I won the scholarship. Yet." I stress on the hope and Grayson chuckles. "But when I do, consider yourself invited." 

He places his hand over his chest. "Wow, thank you. I'm honored." 

Both of us smile. And then, things get awkward. Tapping my foot, I try to peek into his room. Rainer and he talked about how Finley didn't want to swap rooms in the middle of the night. Our routine took a toll on his sleep cycle and Rainer felt guilty that our nighttime rendezvous is what made him give an average performance in the camp. 

Trust me, this was our last night here, and I didn't want to crash their boys' night. My whole purpose was to simply make sure the not-so-golden boy was doing okay. 

"He's not here," Grayson says shaking his head. "He came in after dinner, changed to joggers, and I'm guessing he went for a run." Nodding, I take steps backward. "Now, I presume you're going back to your room, which would also be my suggestion to you--" I fold my lips and he nods "--but if you do happen to run into him, you know, by accident--"

I purse my lips. "By accident." 

Grayson nods with a grin, "Right. Don't make him talk. It'll only get worse. And if he says something stupid and unruly, just know that it's because of his violent swing of emotions. Nothing to do with you."

"You've done this a lot of times?" 

Grayson sighs. "Yeah." 

"You're a cool friend, Finley." 

Grayson frowns. "Shit, Park, your humanity is showing." 

Rolling my eyes, I back away as he closes the door. I don't ask him why he's not with Sam. I don't ask him why they're having so many fights. I don't ask him because he's not my friend. If I want to know what's going on between them, I need to ask the idiot who is packing in my room. 

I schedule it for later and break into a run. Hugging my coat as tightly as I can around my body frame, I head for the woods. The December weather's showing. I can almost sense the smell of an approaching Christmas. Envisioning myself with that scholarship will be the best Holiday gift of my life. I try to think about happier and warmer memories as I enter the dark and cold pine forest. 

I don't like coming here at night. It's spooky, unclear, and very cold. But for some reason, he loves coming back here so much, that I've memorized the path to my very fond tree. No sooner than I enter the small clearing, I find him heavily breathing in the center of the orchard. Seems to me he just arrived at this place after running for a long time.