A group of young runaways, who once thought they had nothing to lose, create their own secret utopia in the shadow of a dangerously seductive idea that threatens to unravel it all.
Addison Walker, the eco-activist with the steamy mugshot, is fresh o...
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We're all sitting outside in a circle, under the lacy shadows of the large oak tree, waiting for Addison and Noah to get here. They're walking back, ducking under the clothes line where white sheets are hanging, catching in the slow wind like prayer flags.
Anna mumbles something to herself about how they'll never dry in this heat.
Addison takes a seat beside me. Heath makes room for Noah, but Noah shrugs him off, sitting instead between Jai and Brandon.
I play with the tall grass, running my fingers through it like tangled hair. Across the circle, Brandon is nibbling nervously on some red clover.
This heat is intense. I can't tell if the grass is wet, or if it's my sweat. It can't be good for Anna, and I'm sure it's not good for Noah either, considering the state he was brought back in. I can smell the alcohol on him from here. I get up to grab some water from the house.
"Where are you going?" Heath asks, as if I interrupted something.
"To get a drink..."
"Just hold out a little longer."
"It's not for me," I say. It's for your pregnant girlfriend, and Noah who is only drunk because of what you did...
Still, he nods back to the ground, so I sit. Fine.
I don't understand why no one is talking. Addison doesn't seem to share my same uneasiness. He seems as calm as ever, with one elbow resting on his leg that's bent up, while the other is stretched out.
Noah is pretty far gone, but his rigidness despite that is unsettling. His jaw is tense, and his curly hair has fallen in front of his dark eyes as he stares at the grass a few feet in front of him. He looks so much older than he did just this morning.
Jai's eyes are open, but he's not really looking at anything. I think he might be meditating; his toe is tapping as if keeping time with one of the mantras that seem to cycle through his head on loop. He sometimes used to let a line or two slip past his lips, as if he had no idea he'd begun to sing it out loud. And, he'd always do it in the Indian accent he puts on. His impression is borderline offensive. He argues it's natural for him, whenever someone points it out. It always made me laugh. I kind of wish he would let a few lines slip right now, just to break the tension.
Anna has begun to tie her hair up. Heath waits until she's finished before finally speaking. She missed a few strands, but leaves them. They stick to her neck in a few soft, humid curls.
"How's everyone feeling?" Heath finally asks.
There's a chorus of quiet 'okays'.
"How about you, Brandon?"
"Me? I'm fine..."
"I think now is a good time to tell everyone the news."
