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I just finished saying goodnight to everyone, and still, I haven't heard from James yet. I hope he made it back to Boston okay. Sure, we have spotty service in the mountains, but when inside the cabin, I can connect to wifi. Maybe I should have sent him a text asking if he made it to his parents' in Boston fine... He's supposed to start his new sales job on Monday. At least he has Saturday and Sunday to still enjoy the summer before he joins the workforce. I, however, have still not heard back from any of my job interviews yet, so after this, nothing is waiting for me...

The following morning, I wake up to cold water steadily dripping down the side of my face. I quickly open my eyes to hear pounding rain and howling winds outside my tent. A storm from Canada must have rolled in overnight and is now causing little leaks inside my tent. I can feel the cold and soggy ground through the tent floor. I quickly pack my stuff and roll up my sleeping bag, then open the zipper and jump outside in my pajamas. I zip the tent quickly close and make a mad dash for the cabin.

Once inside, I almost slip on the hardwood as I am drenched to the bone. No one is inside yet, but the fireplace in the corner by the flannel couch is roaring. I look at the clock above the fridge to see it's only seven in the morning. I drop my stuff next to the fire and open up my bag to find some clothes. I hear the toilet flush from down the hall and look up to see Ethan enter the main room. He stops short as he eyes me.

I grab my change of clothes and quickly brush by him to the bathroom to dry off and dress. After I put on sweatpants and a baggy tee shirt, I put my damp hair in a messy bun then head back outside to the main room. Ethan is sitting at the table reading yesterday's newspaper my dad had picked up from Ludlow's convenience store. I walk by him and rummage around my bag again. I grab my book I've been slowly reading since January, then plop a squat on the couch.

The rain pounding down on the roof and the crackling of the fire fills the silence closing in on us. The air grows thick and stagnant to the point I can't stand it anymore. I'm about to speak when the door smacks open and everyone else makes their way inside dripping wet.

My mom, Marisa, and Bianca eye me warily, but I quickly look away and go back to my murder mystery book.

"I checked the weather. This rain isn't supposed to let up all weekend," Greg says.

"Should we cut the vacation short?" My dad asks the group.

"I think that would be best," Bianca says looking at Ethan and I.

"Ethan, could you help us pack up the tents and close the dock?" Greg asks.

Ethan sighs, puts the paper down on the table, and follows the guys back outside to the chilly downpour.

Sierra grabs the kitchen towel to dry herself off, then gives it to my mom.

"I see you're already packed up," Marisa says motioning her head to my sack.

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