Cody giggled at first, and then he started laughing so hard he had to stop because he almost dropped his end of the litter, and Georgia along with it. “Did you really just give us ‘The Three Little Pigs’?”
Jackie shrugged, smiled. “Maybe.”
“Genius,” Sunday said. “But I kind of want to know what happened to the brothers in space.”
“Maybe some other time,” Jackie said.
The rain had slackened off and finally quit altogether as the sun was starting to set. We hadn’t figured out what we were going to do for food, and if the others were as hungry as I was, people were going to start getting cranky before too long.
“How much farther do you think we have to go?” Georgia asked.
“What do you care?” Tino said. “Not like you have to do any of the walking.”
“That’s not her fault,” Cody said.
“Like hell it isn’t.” Tino leaned against a tree. He was trying not to show how exhausted he was, but the strain of hiking on empty stomachs was wearing on us all, and Tino didn’t hide it well.
Lucinda was already up in his face, anger ready to boil over. “All you do is complain. If you don’t like it, find your own damn way back to camp.”
“Maybe I will.”
“No one’s leaving the group,” Jaila said. “I’m not . . . We’re not losing anyone out here.”
“They thought this would bring us together,” Jenna said quietly. “Being alone out here, forced to rely on one another. This was supposed to teach us the value of teamwork or whatever, but we’re all too fucked up to work together, aren’t we?”
“Speak for yourself,” Lucinda said. “I’m just fine working with you.” She motioned at Tino. “It’s him I can do without.”
“Why?” Jenna asked. “What’s he done that’s so bad except say what he was thinking? What gives you or anyone the right to keep him from speaking his mind?”
Lucinda opened her mouth to say something, but closed it wordlessly.
We were never going to sit around a campfire singing songs and roasting marshmallows together. When we left the Bend, we would each scatter back to wherever we’d come from and never speak to one another again. We’d slip into to our old lives and forget the others existed. The courts and our parents or guardians had sent us to the Bend hoping it would change us, but I didn’t think that was possible. The things that made us strong individually were also the qualities that kept us from functioning as a unified whole.
Dipshit Doug had told us on our first day how Zeppelin Bend had been named after a knot used to tie two pieces of rope together. It was considered by some to be the ideal bend knot because it was secure and easy to tie. He’d said we were each a piece of rope, and his goal was to tie us to one another, teach us how to form a knot with the people in our lives and become stronger as a result.
But I knew a thing or two about knots, and the Zeppelin bend was also known for the ease with which it could be untied. Even if we managed to work together to find our way back to camp, we’d never stay tied to one another. We’d slip the knot as soon as we were able, and fall to loose ends. That was just reality.
And who would care? We were castoffs. We’d been told the Bend was our last chance to turn our lives around, but I doubted anyone expected we’d actually do it. Those who’d sent us here already considered us lost causes, or they wouldn’t have sent us here in the first place. We’d stopped being people to them and were, instead, problems to shove off onto someone else to fix. Nothing we did mattered because, to our families, we were only what we’d done to get sent here. It’s all they would ever see.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Georgia said.
“I can take you,” David offered.
“Of course the perv volunteers,” Lucinda said. She’d backed off from Tino, but her anger was still floating on the surface, like an oil slick. It only needed a spark to catch fire.
“I’m not—” David started. Stopped. Then said, “Forget it. Fuck all of you.”
“I’ll take her,” Jackie said. “Maybe we’ll find a McDonald’s while we’re out there.”
Jaila looked around where we’d stopped. “This is as good a place as any to make camp. I don’t think we’re going any farther tonight, anyway.”
Cody found Georgia a stick she could use as a makeshift crutch before Jackie led her off a distance to take care of her business, and the rest of us worked on making camp. Jenna collected kindling for a fire, Tino found rocks to circle it with, and Cody went searching for logs he could drag over so we’d have something to sit on. Everyone seemed to know what they were supposed to do, and did it without needing to be told. I went off on my own because I also needed to relieve myself, and I was hoping to find something to eat. But I returned empty-handed.
Sunday was sitting on a log talking to David, who was crying and shaking his head.
“That’s not how it was” David was saying.
“I know, but you have to admit it sounds really messed up.” Sunday was sitting close to David, but not touching him.
“That’s because none of you let me finish.”
“She was your sister, David,” Sunday said. “Can you blame us?”
David shook his head. “But if you just hear the rest of the story, I swear you’ll understand.”
“Tell me, then,” she said. “I’ll listen if you want to finish.”