After waking up to Camillo's half-asleep face, I get up from his hold to let him rest.
He must be exhausted from staying up all night keeping watch over us how he usually does, and I can't understand why he does it.
"Why are you still awake?" I ask, remembering that Kade is supposed to have the second watch.
"I couldn't fall asleep."
"You should have woken me up, then."
I say the words before thinking them through, but Camillo looks at my curiously. "And why, exactly, would I do that?"
My cheeks burn. It is really unnerving how although Camillo stays awake all night and day keeping watch over the camp, he refuses to lay down; Whenever someone tries their best to get him to bed, he reassures us that he's fine. No one complains, especially Kade who loves to sleep, but I can see through the way he blinks hard late in the afternoon that he is tired.
"Because you're tired. You should let me keep watch."
"Let a girl keep watch?"
A girl?
The taste of that word on his mouth makes my temper rise. Why should gender matter at all?
"Just because I am a girl does not mean that I am not capable." I spit out at him, and he winces at his words.
"I didn't mean it like that."
"Then what did you mean, Camillo?"
"It's not very chivalrous for a man to let a woman do his job. That's all."
"His job? Then what is my job? To sit around all day and make dinner?"
I glare at Camillo, not sure why I am directing all of my anger on him. Maybe he didn't mean it, but it still sort of hurts.
"Of course not. You just don't understand -"
"Once again, I understand perfectly." I cross my arms over my chest. "You just hate the fact that I am just as competent as you are." I huff, and don't even bother to listen to his response as I walk away.
What even is chivalry, anyway?
Before I can ask, behind me, Camillo is sprawled out on the grass behind me, fast asleep.
I roll my eyes at his lean figure, wondering why he feels the need to act so annoying sometimes. Camillo's brooding has oddly grown on me, and I am starting to get used to his comfortable silence. Sometimes, I can decipher bits and pieces of his emotions through his eyes or gestures. Or maybe when the tone of his voice gives him away because something irks him. Do I irk him? I find it hard to believe that he thinks very highly of me. But I've realized that I couldn't see hints of his expressions before because he would not show them to me, and now, for some unknown reason, he is starting to become more comfortable around me.
I stretch my back painfully as I walk away from him, not sure why I care so much. Maybe it's because he was so kind to me on that first day we met, despite my humiliation, and that he respected me still after that. Can I even call it respect? Compared to the way other people in my town have treated me - little whispers and laughs behind my back - this is definitely a step better than that. At least to him, I'm not a laughingstock of the town because I work hard, and need to provide for family.
With that in mind, I attempt to help Kade and Andres start building a fire which, of course, they refuse. They claim that I need rest, not to expend my energy because I am all bruised up and need time to heal. But after my afternoon nap I am far from tired, so I pile pieces of wood one by one into my arms in the hot afternoon sun.
"So..." Andres trails as I walk beside him.
His strides are so much larger than mine, but he stays in line with me.
I smile, and go on my tip-toes to ruffle his hair. "So...?"
"How'd we get here, huh?"
I look down at the grass beneath us, trying not to trip and fall. "Well, I kind of volunteered, and you kind of got stuck along with me."
Andres laughs, even though I am partly serious. He rests an affectionate hand upon my shoulder.
"We never did talk about that. You could have stayed home instead of father. You could have stayed safe."
"In the moment, I didn't think I had a choice." I reply with a long sigh. "What good would staying in Woodson have done for me? For our father? Andres, I don't regret what I did."
"Yeah, but you drive me crazy, Adel! You know that you don't always have to be the one taking care of everyone. I am not a kid anymore, and I am part of this family, too."
His sad blue eyes pull me under an invisible sea as my brother reaches out and puts a familiar piece of cloth in the palm of my hands. A. Marina. It is the little handmade piece of fabric that I gave him before he went off to battle. I have the matching one right inside of my breast pocket. My hands shake with the wood also within them, but I keep everything upright with my forearms.
"Adeline, you have made too many sacrifices for me and our father, and we wouldn't have survived without you. But it is time that I take on some responsibility. You treat me as if I am still the little boy I was years ago."
I look down at the forest floor, where my dirty boots are scrunching up the blades of grass. My heart burns, and I do not know why I am angry at him.
Why do I feel the need to be in control all of the time? Why he has never reached out to help me before? I want to scream and shout the truth of my conscience, but can not afford to do so even surrounded by empty woods.
I didn't ask for that responsibility - it was handed to me, as sharp as a knife. And although he is now an adult, Andres doesn't understand the weight of that burden.
Doesn't understand the cost.
I release my clenched jaw, trying to show some composure.
He doesn't know any better.
"I know, Andres." I let out a breath rather calmly. Andres has always been so sheltered, even if we did grow up poor, and it is because I made sure that it was that way. All of my previous fury drains from by body like a tidal wave reaching the shore. "But you will always be my little brother, and I will always protect my family. It kills me that I couldn't save you, too. But at least I could rescue Dad."
Sitting in silence, it is a long time before my brother manages to form an answer. Does he remember the nights where I stayed up late, because I was working? Because our father wasn't? "Well, regardless, I'm glad you're here. If it weren't for you, I might not even be sitting here right now."
"I'm glad I'm here too." I proclaim this half-heartedly, raising my line of vision from the ground to the glowing, young man beside me.
Yes, he is strong. But in a different way than I am.
He is courageous with his love, and his heart.
Giving Andres a peck on the cheek, he leaves me to myself as I sit with my back against a giant oak tree before the starting fire, admiring the different colored leaves. The wood is piled up in front of me now, the flames casting sparks into the air. It is just as red as Kade's hair, who goes to a different edge of the clearing where Camillo is resting.
How long has it been since I was back home, with only my brother to worry about? A month? Maybe two? Ever since I came here, I haven't had a second to slow down, to think.
I have lost all track of time, but time here means nothing now except for day and night. Each day is another exhaustion, another day that closer I am to realizing that I don't think I can keep this up anymore.
Keep what up, Adeline?
My own voice rings mockingly through my mind. Despite what others think, despite what Andres thinks, I've done a terrible job at being his elder sister, and doing well by him. I am not brave; I am only good with my instincts. I am constantly running around in circles like a pathetic chicken on a farm.
Feeling the need to get up and do something instead of breaking down, I remove myself from my place at the tree trunk. I reason that since our escape left us with no supplies, I should head out and search for food or something, even if it only is actually to distract me.
Walking into thicker brush, I wobble over plants littering the ground, feeling guilty for crushing some underneath my toes. The soreness in my face and legs are a reminder of my injuries, in addition to pains that spread across my back like nasty spider webs as I bend down to retrieve berries. Hopefully we can find a Nation camp soon that I can obtain some kind of relief medicine, and so they can help us find our way home. Shaking my head, I use my tattered nurse apron as a basket to continue collecting food and leaves for eating, as well as some for keeping my cuts' swelling down. The vegetation here is thankfully rich and thick, providing a variety of different greens to grow that can be used by us.
Praying that nothing I picked turns out to be poisonous, I retreat back into the area to find all of the boys at camp sleeping, light snoring sounds coming from three different bodies. Gently tossing the things I picked into a pile, I sadly realize that what I got isn't nearly enough to fill one person's stomach, never mind three full grown men.
Letting out a groan, I try to think of a way that I can acquire some type of substantial meal because my stomach is already growling, and I bet theirs will be when they wake up, too. Double checking that the others are still in a deep sleep, I sneak a couple of sour berries into my mouth before heading right back into the wilderness, listening intently for any sign of animal movement.
I hear a rustling in a nearby bush, so I carefully hover over a spiky plant before finding a cute little bunny nibbling mindlessly on some weeds. It is small enough that I am able to take the animal into my cupped hands and lift it up to face me quickly. However, it's beady eyes bore into mine, frightened, and it's brown body shakes.
I could bring it back to camp, kill it, cook it.
But instead I frown and drop it back onto the ground.
The fuzzy little thing hurries away from me, and I almost scold myself for letting it go. What did I come here to do, if I am so immature as to let the rabbit go?
Although stupid, I'd rather starve than harm an innocent animal. I'd starve myself for the innocent.
The good.
I'll just wait for the others to wake up to hunt, I amend.
Out of all our hardest times in Woodson, I have never killed a living animal.
With that in mind, I head back to the camp and munch on the remainder of the berries I picked, waiting for the sun to set. The boys can make their own food if they want.
The setting still quiet and peaceful, I let myself take it all in. My senses are heightened at the beautiful changing landscape around me, the wind winding down and whispering. I am glad to be alone in the golden hour of the day, right as the sun lights on fire, so that I can feel it's powerful rays wash over me with no judgement.
I remember, with a ghost of a smile on my face, a time that I wandered out alone into the dried out forest of Woodson, just for fun. The clouds did not rain - they just stayed perfectly still and waiting.
Familiar and strange all at once.
In no time, the sun hides behind evergreen trees, and I am left with the watery moon staring back at me, it's faint glow telling me that it is time to wake the others.
And pushing my young, reckless self from out of my mind, I gladly wake my friends up, ready for another day full of new adventures.