“Are you sure you’ve got everything?” called a voice from outside. In response, a girl stretched up from her crouched position on the floor. The tent lights flickered slightly as her arms brushed past them. She put down one hand and covered her mouth in a semi-yawn.
“If you mean that I’ve got the CD’s, the stereo, the batteries, the gloves, the first aid kit, the tool box, the sleeping bags, the food, the dresses, the other clothes, the bathroom necessities, and other various crap that we dragged along,” she replied to the voice, “Then yes.” A sigh of relief came from outside of the tent.
“You had me worried Amelia,” the owner of the first voice entered the tent and flopped down onto her comforter, “You usually forget something.” A huff of indignation came from Amelia and she collapsed opposite the other girl.
“Just be lucky that we didn’t have to bring that portable toilet,” Amelia defended. Both girls shuddered in remembrance.
The girl opposite Amelia shrugged, “But we did bring the portable shower.” Amelia groaned and punched her hiking backpack. It barely moved.
“I swear Indy, this thing is made of brick,” growled Amelia as she rubbed her knuckles where they had hit the monstrous bag.
Indy made a derisive sound. “That’s because you’re a weakling,” she said loftily. This did not help to improve Amelia’s mood, and she glared in Indy’s general direction. “What? I’m just telling the truth!” Indy exclaimed. Shaking her head, Amelia could do nothing but sigh. Indy was right. She could do an extremely little bit of archery, fencing, kick-boxing, and a little gun-handling. Of course, none of it matched up to Indy’s speed and power when she was in full battle-mode. Indy took up martial arts as a hobby; Amelia took up the performing arts. And that, to Amelia’s never-ending consternation, was that.
The sun had just crept over the horizon, and the crisp North wind was quite refreshing. Both girls crawled out of their tent and stretched, joints popping and cracking. Sparrows flitted idly from tree to tree, and sang a light little song. Their trail was covered in old blackberry bushes that probably stretched for miles.
They had been heading toward La Push, a beautiful stretch of the Washington coastline that faced the Pacific Ocean. Amelia had been there a few times before, but she had never hiked there. It was quite the stretch! But it was a graduation treat that they would share together.
Since they had taken such a direct route, their travels had been short and sweet, giving them more time to meander about La Push’s beach when they arrived. Indy had never been to this side of Washington State before, and was in constant awe of nature’s beauty.
They stood for a while to admire the sunrise.
It was then that Indy acknowledged a disturbance.
“Why on EARTH do we have dresses?” Insert eye twitch here. Amelia raised her chin loftily.
“I had nothing to do with those. I think that Jared packed them in there,” Amelia responded to Indy’s current mental imbalance with a rather smug superior look that seemed, for the moment, to outshine the sun. Indy gave another spasm of terror.
“I’d rather have my ears bleed to Smooth Jazz, than wear anything that resembles a dress,” Indy stated flatly. Amelia just shrugged her shoulders and hefted her heavy (to say the least) backpack off of the ground. Indy sighed heavily, and quickly put away the small tent, folding it up and stuffing it into her own enormous backpack. A disgruntled snort was all she gave when she hefted the monstrosity onto her shoulders. Amelia sighed with envy.
Indy just mumbled to herself, “Why did Jared pack dresses…?”
Climbing was a great form of exercise. Indy had independently decided that climbing was a kind of weakling sport. Amelia defended herself, saying that climbing up cliffs like the ones in Arizona was not for the faint of heart. Great precipices littered the shore of La Push, making it a climber’s theme park.
Amelia, despite what she insisted, was not necessarily a weakling. In fact she hardly looked the artistic type, wearing beads in her hair and a bandanna with dreadlocks to match. In fact, with the dark eyeliner, she had been mistaken for a Goth or a punk more than once. The clothes she wore were not that much better, a ripped tank top and self-designed capris. With army boots.
Needless to say, she prided herself on individuality.
“Are we there yet?” grunted Indy from behind Amelia. The trail was slowly but surely winding to an end. Surprisingly, unlike some similar hiking trips Amelia had been on, this one was on schedule.
“Jared said he planned the whole thing…is that true?” asked Indy. Amelia laughed as hard as she could with a temporarily shortened respiratory tract.
“Not ALL of it,” answered a winded Amelia, “I planned the route.”
Indy clapped her hand a little too hard onto Amelia’s shoulder, “That means he did ALL the packing, didn’t he?” Amelia’s eyes widened slightly, and then her expression turned sour.
“The dresses…” she growled.
Indy shook her head, “Never trust a gay man to do a tomboy’s job.”
“I’ll remember that.”
|
Submission Name: Trying Times
