Camillo coerces me awake in the late afternoon, right before the sun sets again.
I slept for more than a regular night, which caused us to lose some traveling time. He tells me that while he was with me yesterday, Kade and Andres found signs of a marketplace nearby where we could finally ask for some directions. They told Camillo about it early this morning when I was sleeping, but didn't want to wake me.
I'm sort of glad they left me alone.
Still groggy, I yawn and wipe the sleep out of my eyes while standing up on my feet.
I look to Camillo, a little disoriented since I don't know where I'd run off to yesterday in a panic. But he just smiles at me and grabs my hand, leading the way. I lean my head on his arm, and he holds me close to his tall, built body.
"Tired, are we?" He says, as he helps me climb over a fallen branch.
Even though he just woke up himself, he still looks dashing. His camouflage uniform is slightly rumpled, and so is his unruly hair.
"You have no idea."
He chuckles, and for a minute the sound of it is all I can think about.
It was so kind of him yesterday to sit by me, to console me when all I could think about was the downward spiral my life was on until now.
Can a person change so late in their life?
I ask myself this question, but I am unsure. In the comfortable silence, I think about how much I want things to change.
How afraid I am to admit it.
But before I can come to a conclusion, Camillo and I end up walking for about fifteen minutes, so that we meet up with Kade and Andres back at our campsite.
"Good morning " Camillo says to the boys, but all I can think about is the town that they found.
Perhaps being back within civilization will set my mind right.
"Well?" I say hopefully, ready to start walking. "What did you find?"
"Be patient," Says Andres, an eyebrow raised. "We've found a marketplace where people are trading and buying all sorts of goods. It can only mean we are near some town."
I nod, and Kade tells us that he'll lead the way. The noise of our boots trudging through the leaves on the ground gets louder and louder as the brush gets denser and denser. Eventually. we reach an area that is so thickly surrounded by so many trees even I have to duck my head to avoid getting twigs in my hair.
"How far is this place, anyways?" I ask.
"We'll be there soon," Kade replies.
And so I continue to follow.
Somehow, Camillo's hand has become intertwined with mine as we travel. And I don't mind it.
Not at all.
But it does make me wonder: What will happen after I deliver Darrell's note to our army, and then rejoin the ranks of the war?
We can't run, not when they have our names on the drafted list, and there is something else there that bothers me.
When we get back to camp, will Camillo and Kade just go back to Addison Town and leave Andres and I behind?
I have grown attached to them, whether they annoy me sometimes or not. Surprisingly, I realize, their friendship means something to me. Something I don't want to lose. They are one of the only people my age I've gotten along with since Melissa, and I can't imagine never speaking to them ever again after all we've been through.
And more than that... I really, really don't want to leave Camillo's side.
I squeeze his hand tightly in mine, and Camillo glances at me curiously. Would he miss me, too?
It's silly to think that I have such a hold on him, yet...
I don't know.
His eyes swirl with emotions, and it makes my heart flutter, but it's probably unreasonable to assume that he would still want to be with me when things got back to normal.
Normal? Right. Like your life is so normal, Adeline.
Pushing the thoughts aside, I try to enjoy myself in the moment. The late afternoon is hot so that sweat forms on my forehead, and I feel drowsy. After thirty minutes pass, Kade finally pushes apart some thin branches to reveal a giant man-made clearing.
I gape at the sudden reveal, and everyone else stops to do the same. The sun shines over dozens of boutiques, fabric shops, bakeries, and anything else you could think of. In awe, I almost trip over my own two feet at the sight. The small little market is bustling with people, and we've finally found something other than the wilderness beyond.
Without thinking, I let go of Camillo's hand and run off into the area, heading towards the things that attract me. The smell of charcoal and glue and spices fill my lungs and I breathe the scent in. There are vibrant colors coming from each booth selling items like shoes and foods and trinkets - all of which shouldn't matter to me because I've got no money, but enticing nonetheless.
How I would love to buy some food!
As I wander around, it takes me a while notice how many of the market people stare at me. My hair is a mess, I have dirt all over my clothes, and angry little scratches scatter over my knees.
"Watch where you're going!" An older woman snaps at me as I accidentally bump into her shoulder. She has gray hair, wrinkles, and an unpleasant look on her face.
"Sorry." I apologize, but she is gone.
It is in that moment that the familiar anxiety kicks in, spiking past the visible sense. This small town with busy shops, no different than Woodson, is full of hard working but closed-minded people. Being secluded from society for weeks, I had forgotten about prying eyes, femininity standards.
What must they think of me, out here in the woods? I pretend not to care, but here, I am looked at with disdain for being by myself.
A girl wandering the streets freely on her own never is good news.
Thankfully, it doesn't take long to spot a tall head of messy brown hair in the crowds, walking past the square of shops and into a secluded pathway with his hands in his pockets.
I watch him for a moment, sitting on the ground with his back against a building peacefully. Why isn't he with the Kade and Andres? Does he also feel like he doesn't belong?
I can't help but miss our private conversations, the simplicity of being in the forest. No one else but the trees around me and him to judge or distract or pay us attention.
I walk over to his hidden spot, letting the gravel beneath me dig into my bones.
"Hey," he says, as I sit down next to him with our shoulders touching.
"Hey."
"Do you want some food?"
I look up at his outstretched hands, holding half a roll of freshly made bread. It makes my mouth water.
"Yes, please. This is exactly what I needed," I say, sighing.
I finish my share in a delicious matter of seconds, not even bothering to save any for later. The fluffy texture is filling for my stomach that has been running on berries for the last couple of days, and I am finally satisfied.
And Camillo, being finished as well, just stares at me.
"What?" I ask, feeling self conscious.
He seems hesitant, but his next words explain why. "Nothing, I just... I also bought something else for you at the market."
I raise my eyebrows. He bought me something? Where did he even get the money?
Nonetheless, it's... incredibly sweet.
"You didn't have to."
"I know. I wanted to."
From the space beside him, Camillo pulls out a little package wrapped in iridescent paper typically found near southern seas.
"Open it," he gestures, giving me the pouch.
Tentatively, I take the gift into my hands, pulling the string around the opening. It unravels, and reveals a handmade seashell necklace bought from one of the vendors of the market.
"It's beautiful," I breathe, my eyes softening. The chain is a thin leather, and the shell is as white and iridescent as the packaging paper which seems to glitter in the sunlight.
I've never owned jewelry before, except one item that I've worn for years. In fact, I've never even seen an ocean before, with Woodson being so inland. But since we are traveling southeast, it makes sense that the vendors here would have the luxury of seashells.
"I've never owned jewelry before, except a delicate pair of pearl earrings my mother gave me." I tell him, hoping the tone of my voice conveys what words can not. "Thank you."
It's true - the last piece of jewelry I've ever gotten had been a gift from my mother on my fifteenth birthday. It's the only jewelry I wear to this day. She was always adventurous, more so than my father. She is the only one of our family to have ever seen a glimpse of the ocean, and the stories she would tell Andres and I about it were childishly wonderful to imagine.
"Well now you do," he comments. He seems shy more than broodingly quiet now, which is uncharacteristic of him. I smile, and so does he. "You're eyes remind me of the ocean, so I thought this would be fitting."
My soul sings from the statement ever so slightly, which, in honesty, does not surprise me. I've always thought my eyes were as icy as my remarks to others, yet of course Camillo finds a way to make it sound poetic.
As if they are, indeed, a metaphor more complex than I ever could be.
He reaches over me to clasp the necklace around my neck, and the shell rests right next to my heart. I put a hand over it, feeling the smooth crevices and ridges of the shell.
Beautiful.
"Are..." he hesitates. I nod for him to keep going. "Are you okay? From yesterday?"
I think hard on the question, probably more than I should: Am I okay?
I feel better than I did yesterday with that horrible dream, yet, the things I struggle with take more time than a day to heal from.
"I will be."
Camillo nods, and I sense that he is a little disbelieving of me. But I know I will be okay. Like the strength of the imaginable ocean, I can withstand the weight of the world in waves as they pass me by not noticing. As soon as this war is over, and as soon as Andres, Camillo, and Kade are at home, safe and sound, I will be okay.
"Will you be okay?" I am compelled to ask. For as much as he is concerned about me, I find myself wondering about his own struggles. I get the idea that we've led similar lives, and it makes me curious as to why he cares about mine so much. "Have you been okay?"
"It's odd of you to ask that." He smiles, but now there's some sort of pain in his eyes.
"You don't have to answer," I assure him, not wanting to intrude. "But you've listened to me, so I think it's only fair that now I listen to you."
His body shifts next to me so that now we are facing each other. And when his chocolate eyes meet mine I could get lost in the taste, the feeling of it. I hope he feels the same.
"When I was little," Camillo starts, very quietly. He doesn't seem like the person who would open up to people often, so I make sure that my eyes convey how open I am to seeing him truly.
Without any facade, or war paint.
He laughs as if this were silly. "Well, you can probably tell that I've had a rough life."
I stay very still. Is he... afraid of this? Of his past, or his feelings?
"You don't have to be scared of telling me how you feel." My eyebrows draw together, wondering if this is how I seemed to him just yesterday night: like a frightened animal, caught in headlights. "A life full of hardship is not something I am unaccustomed to. I understand how difficult it is. I want you to feel comfortable saying these things to me. I want you to feel safe with me."
Camillo scratches the back of his head, thoughtful. What is running through his mind right now? I put a hand over the necklace he bought me, caressing it as if I could coerce his secrets from their depths. A minute passes, and he considers my words.
He sighs. "You're right." Right about what, I don't know. But then, he goes on. "I was pretty much taught to raise myself. I mean - I did raise myself."
Maybe that's why we get along so well.
"That sounds familiar," I snort, and Camillo smiles sadly. "As you know, my mother passed away when I was small, so I'm not even sure how. But after she was gone, my father had no motivation to take care of our farm."
"You have your own farm, in Addison?"
"Yes," he nods. "But I don't think it is doing well now that Kade and I have left. That's the thing, you already know, about losing a parent. When they pass on, their other half can't seem to function anymore."
The irony of the parallel between Camillo and I's lives clicks into place, and it makes sense. I feel drawn to Camillo because he understands me - because he has lived through the same situations I've lived through himself.
I hesitate before asking, "What... what happened to your dad?"
I once shared with Camillo that after my mother died, my father locked himself away for months and refused to work or be there for me.
Was it the same for him?
Yet, his next question catches me completely off guard.
"Did your father ever hit you, Adeline?"
Hit me? I have to think back to when I was a child, still afraid of my parents.
"Once," I admit. "But I deserved it."
Once, in a fit of anger when I was fourteen years old, I called my father some choice words about his behavior, which earned me one big slap on the cheek - girls are not supposed to disrespect their fathers.
"There are some people who deserve it, and others who don't. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"
I stare into Camillo's eyes disbelievingly, not sure if I am hearing right. This man - this six foot, strong and muscled young man - was beaten by his father as a child.
No wonder he is so quiet, so reserved. Where my father ignored me, all Camillo probably wanted was for his to leave him alone.
"Daily?" I whisper, my voice shaking.
Camillo looks down at the dirt we are sitting in.
He's ashamed.
"He liked to drink."
I wince, remembering what became of a man named Renzo in my hometown of Woodson. He was an alcoholic too, but had no family. He would walk around the village and steal things, as well as spit out hurtful words. Everyone would whisper about him behind his back, although I never did.
I pivot on my knees, so that I am directly in front of Camillo.
He can't hide from me anymore, not now that he's told me what has happened in his past. A sliver of the reason for why he acts like he does sometimes - so serious and so wronged.
Not too different from my own facade.
"Is that why you're like this? Closed off, sometimes?" I bring a small hand up to cup Camillo's cheek, caressing the skin as if he were a child.
I remember thinking that Camillo was intimidating when I had first met him. But maybe that was just him trying to protect himself from others, from the harsh, outside world. He shouldn't be ashamed of himself for things that were out of his control. He's the one that taught me that.
And it's time I returned that lesson.
Upon my touch, Camillo raises his head to look at me. Those chocolate eyes are so sad, and I wish I could do something to change that.
He shrugs, "Maybe."
It's not a question, but the message in his eyes are clearer than his words.
The answer is yes, but I can't admit it out loud.
I shake my head, leaning forward so that I can hug him.
"You know, I think that's why we've felt like we've known each other forever. When you came along, I didn't feel so lonely anymore. I hope that it's felt the same for you."
He sighs, resting his forehead on my shoulder, comforting both of us.
"You wouldn't even know."
He squeezes me tight, and I say the first thing that comes to my mind. "I think you're so strong, Camillo. Even if you don't feel like it. Even if you don't care."
I kiss him on the cheek slowly, hoping it shows him how much I mean it. It takes strength to know that sometimes, the people you love, even one of your parents, won't know the right way to love you back.
But that doesn't mean you should stop fighting to have something like it again.
Because isn't that what this is?
Love?
"I care."
"I know."
"Adeline..."
My lips curve against his cheek, my hands around his neck are digging into his curls.
He smells like berries and pine and the forest.
"I-I think I love you." He murmurs into my ear.
My heart stops.
Did I just hear him right?
I pull my lips away from his face, and Camillo stares at me, waiting for a response that I don't have.
Say something, I scold myself.
But my mouth can't catch up with my mind.
My eyes remain wide, and my mouth is gaping. I'm absolutely paralyzed, not sure what to do.
He really does care about me.
Do I love him back?
Yes.
Should I be afraid now?
Yes.
I've never been so speechless before.
"I -I-"
"There you guys are. We've been looking for you!"
Kade stands in the pathway of the small alley between two market buildings, not noticing the moment he just interrupted.
I shoot Camillo an apologetic look, quickly standing up from the ground. My heart is beating fast, not giving me time to think on it. "Any luck?"
"We're about fifty miles West of Addison, and forty miles South of Woodson."
I quickly try to visualize a map of it in my head. We are equal distances from both our home towns. Do Camillo and Kade want to go home? "So we're splitting up, then?"
The idea makes me upset. Maybe Camillo and Kade had different goals in mind from the start; I've been trying to deliver Darell's note this whole time, but never stopped to consider that maybe the two friends are just trying to get home.
But why don't I want to go home?
"I need to find our military legion and the General Director," I trail, not sure if they will get what I am implying.
The note that Darell gave me is still in my pocket, and I haven't forgotten his orders to deliver it.
Kade pipes up. "Of course not. We'll stay together until that note gets delivered, and then we'll think about going home."
We all consider that for a moment.
So Kade and Camillo will stay with Andres and I to the finish, after all. Somehow, the four of us trekking through the woods has all been some sort of adventure, and I am afraid of where I will be stuck after it ends.
It is for the first time that I realize Woodson is too suffocating for me, and I have a sudden urge to move out. But I never could, not with Andres and my father at home with no one to rely on. And besides, where would I go? Roaming the country with nothing but stolen goods over my shoulders?
I glance at Camillo, remembering what he said.
I love you.
Does he regret the words? I hope not.
I love you I love you I love you.
The words are a forbidden echo on the tip of my tongue, as the conversation continues between the group of three boys without me.
Would Camillo laugh at me for wanting to live a spontaneous life, one where I would be full of freedom to roam forests and oceans and mountains above?
My stomach hurts at the thought of it. I wish I had replied to him, so that he wouldn't think the feelings weren't returned.
But are they? Asks an inner voice in my mind. Do you feel that way about him?
It's too quiet, too awkward, between Camillo and I as we both pretend to think about the war, but are really more focused on the internal wars inside of
ourselves.
War is a funny thing, in that sense - whether it's happening on the outside or within our hearts, it always causes trouble.
But I shouldn't think of that now. I need to focus on our plan.
What comes next?
"... so how do we find them?" Andres is hesitant to speak the words that are on his own mind.
"If the last time we were with our legion was near Maulie, I'd say they were now headed East."
"East. Towards the coast." Camillo cocks his head sideways, sounding intelligent, but looking distracted. What are they talking about? I try to pay closer attention.
"The coast," Kade says. "I remember now. You're probably right. They were talking about the coast."
The boys all seem to have some sort of mutual understanding, one that I am not a part of.
"Why the coast?"
Andres answers me, biting his lip. "It's military strategy, things they tried to hint at us while giving us our basic training. The Others have their bases concentrated in the East, and Nation's are in the West. Our troops are trying to corner them to the sea. No one has enough wood to build ships anymore, so they wouldn't be able to retreat."
"They're looking for a full surrender," he adds, finishing his explanation to me.
But the wheels start turning in my head automatically, like a puzzle clicking into place. "And how many people know about this?"
Back in Woodson, no one had any idea where exactly their brothers went if they were drafted, never mind the military's plans for them. War strategy was kept close to secret unless you were in it, and since the majority of people in our Nation could not afford a radio or television, they did not know anything.
But... I have a radio at home, so I know that there is talk of a place called Dauphine in the Other's land - a sort of capital city for the Others where they congregate.
"... but where exactly is the Others' national capital? Intel from Nation headquarters is keeping quiet about their approach towards Dauphine, if it even exists..."
I remember a portion of a news broadcast I was listening to a while ago when the war front seemed so far away.
No one knows where, precisely, the city of Dauphine is on a map, and I never thought much about this before - neither has the general public of Nation, as general civilians do not know much about the war.
Could that be...?
My hand pats the fabric over my breast pocket.
Kade scratches his head. "Only the troops involved. We were told not to tell anybody but our own troop. Only the directors know the grand scheme of it all."
"We need to get to the East then, quickly." I insist, ready for more traveling. I'm anxious, and they can tell.
"What's the hurry?"
I give Kade a level stare.
"Darrell knows where the Other's capital is, and once we get this note delivered, our troops will too. They'll be heading for Dauphine."
The give each other looks.
"All of them."