12. Confusion

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Colorful leaves rustle in the wind that grows stronger by the minute

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Colorful leaves rustle in the wind that grows stronger by the minute. Although I'm used to spending time outdoors no matter the weather, unease fills my insides, and Bast's behavior is of no help. My last words hang in the crisp air between us, and he does nothing but sit and stare at me.

"What?" I huff.

He shrugs. "Thinking. They couldn't have gone too far, could they?"

"Dr. Garcia said there are several hiking trails. They could've chosen any."

Bast frowns. "True. I just don't want to wait till it gets dark. I'm gonna try something."

He hops off the log and shrugs off his jacket, leaving it by my side. When Bast looks up at the thick branches of a tree on our left, I jump to my feet. "No. Don't even think about it. If you fall and injure yourself—"

He laughs. "I won't. But if I do, remember I'm a premed student. I might've forgotten the food, but I have a first-aid kit."

"Are you for real?"

"Yeah." He scratches the back of his neck. "You never know. Someone might need something."

"Look at you, thinking about others."

Bast gives me a lopsided grin. "Right? I don't know what's gotten into me. Wish me luck."

Before I can process what's going on, he grips the sturdy trunk and places one of his feet on it. Bast is surprisingly flexible for someone this tall. It takes him little time to climb the century-old tree, and he stands on a thick branch, looking around.

"You don't really think you'd see them from there, do you?" I say, looking up at him.

"That's not why I'm here." He pulls the phone out of the pocket of his sweats and raises his arm. As he does, his hoodie lifts, revealing a sliver of abs.

He has the body of an athlete, sculpted and hard, and I hate that I notice.

"Here it is," Bast mutters, looking at his phone. "There's service here. I'll call Dr. Garcia."

I listen as he explains we stayed behind. When Bast hangs up, his phone vibrates with a text. 

"He sent me screenshots of their location," he says. "They aren't far."

I hand Bast his jacket when he's on the ground by my side.

"Over here," he says, pointing a hand ahead of us.

We advance along the narrow trail in silence, only broken by the crunch of dry leaves under our feet and the chirping of birds. I take several pictures, and Bast does the same. 

Half an hour later, we catch up with our class.

"See? I was right about teamwork. You two seem to get along now," Dr. Garcia tells Bast and me with a broad smile.

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