Twisted (Editing)

Chapter 7 (Edited)

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In the coming months, everything fell into place. Everything became routine. I went to choir, school, then spent weekday afternoons alternating between my and Jonah's bedrooms, and weekends with Liz and Yasmine. We would go to the mall, watch a movie, or sit and gossip in one of their basements. There really wasn't anything to do in a town like this, though one afternoon we drove five hours out to the nearest big city and spent the entire day hopping from museum to store to restaurant. That had been fun. Besides that...

It's one year, I told myself. Don't get all gaspy and huffy about it.

It was okay. Even Jonah laid off a little if that meant anything.

"I think we're going to win the game by fourteen." There he was now, in his jersey in celebration of the homecoming game. He was a tight end or something. I wasn't paying attention, nor had he talked about it (and nor had I asked about it). He walked with a school newspaper reporter at his side. We made flitting eye contact as he passed. I looked away. I could feel his gaze linger.

Things were getting odd.

"Imani." I shut my locker to the sound of Yasmine's voice. "What group are you in for the camping trip?"

"I haven't checked."

"They're outside the cafeteria."

Every single year, on different weeks in September and October, every class went on a weeklong trip into the woods. It was the craziest thing I'd ever heard, but it was true. The entire senior class was going to be bused into the middle of nowhere and left in the hands of the teachers and a school-owned campsite. I could opt out for religious and medical reasons. Or I could take the hit to my participation grade in gym class that would drop me a whole letter grade. So on the trip, I was going.

"We're in mixed groups," Yasmine said. "I don't know if I like that sound of that..."

"Me neither." Two months at this school and I knew mixed groups never meant girls and boys. It meant the "original" families and the rest of us. There was something different about those kids. They stayed to themselves, had their own gym class, and lived in the gated community on the nature preserve just outside of town. The division had to be...illegal, didn't it? Was this actually allowed? "Maybe they have a secret cult or something. I mean, it just doesn't add up."

"They're just snobs, nothing more, nothing less. You and Liz are together, at least." She looked deflated. I squeezed her shoulder. Her group must have been particularly bad.

I went to homeroom and sat down. The teacher came in a few minutes later, with a stack of fliers that as soon learned were waivers for the trip.

"Class, as you know, Evansville Academy has the tradition of sending students to learn and thrive in the beautiful wilderness for a week. It will be a break from classes and a good opportunity to bond with your classmates one last time. It will also be a good model for the real world: you will be tasked with preparing your shelter and finding your own food under the guidance of the adult leadership. It is the hope of the administration that the trip teaches you both gratitude and confidence as you are about to step into your adult lives."

"Is that what happened last year," a boy mumbled. The teacher shot him a dirty glare and continued to pass out papers. I turned around, desperately looking for someone to ask, "what happened last year?" 

"Remember to pack a bag of clothing and toiletries and the very least a sleeping bag too if you wish to be comfortable." The bell rang and we started to shuffle out of class. "Come to school early, we will be leaving at seven-thirty! If you are not there then your grade in gym will fall."