10

Becca

With my bags lined up by the wall, we sit in the kitchen again. Jason’s tense shoulders tell me everything.

“To be honest, I thought I’d never see you again. The way your texts got so vague since you arrived home made me feel like you moved on to something else,” he says while I drink some juice to quench my parched throat.

“I kind of felt the same from your side,” I reply, but add quickly: “I’ve been researching things I couldn’t share with you over the phone.”

“I assume that research led you somewhere because you are here with all this camping stuff,” he looks at my giant backpack with narrowed eyes, which has several things hanging from hooks and nooks.

“Yeah,” I laugh at the face he makes. “I’m not really the over-shopping type, but I couldn’t stop myself this time. Even though I’m a werewolf, we slept in tents on floatable mattresses during camping trips and mostly cooked our food. I don’t plan on living solely on raw meat while we travel. Do you?”

“Urgh, no,” he repli