Pitching a Tent Ch. 02

Thanks to all of you for your continued support. I cannot express how happy I get whenever one of you comments on my work. It motivates me to write more and more.

As for what you are about to read, the story of Ryan and Skye continues (you didn't think that a story called "Pitching a Tent" would end before they even got to the camping part, did you?). This chapter is definitely more relationship driven than part one, though there is fun at the end, I promise. Hope you enjoy, and be sure to SMASH the "Like" and "Subscribe" buttons! Wait...That's only for Youtube. Nevermind.

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"Now Entering Pisgah National Park"

The sign signaled the end of our seven hour road trip, and I was excited to stretch my legs. The back seat of George's car was not meant for people as tall as me, and my legs were getting numb.

Under normal circumstances, I probably would have thrown a fit and demanded to at least spend SOME of the trip up front. George was three inches shorter than me, and Colin was easily six or seven. It didn't make sense to have my gangly ass back there. So why didn't I complain? It was simple. Skye was in the back seat. Therefore, I wanted to be in the backseat. And boy was I glad that I didn't complain.

After spending the first portion of the trip catching up on what had happened since I last saw her, we got a bit flirty and the end result was a very adult version of Red Light-Green Light with the guys up front. And by that, I mean it was a game of "how much fooling around can we do without our brothers looking back and noticing. We won. Well, at least I did. Skye gave me a blow job and then swallowed every drop — all without our navigators having a clue. But I digress.

We arrived at our plot of land just after 7:00 AM, and for the first time in hours, I had the ability to get out and recover the feeling in my legs. Once they were finally awake, I walked around to the back of the car to start unpacking. Skye was still stretching on her side of the vehicle when I took my bag out of the trunk. And by stretching, I mean she was bent over and touching her toes. She was giving me quite the show. The girl was definitely flexible, and my brain was doing gymnastics of its own, imagining all of the ways that could be used in bed.

It took about an hour to set up our tents and unpack, but after that, we decided that it was best to get some real sleep. No one really gets restful sleep in a car. The first day was always like that.

"Ryan, you're in here with me," George told me, opening up the flap to our tent. I was a bit surprised. I figured he and Colin would be together. I shrugged and followed him in.

"Wow...You and Colin are already sleeping in separate tents? Can't say that's a great sign for your marriage," I said jokingly.

George laughed. "Nah, it's nothing like that. This is OUR camping trip. Our time to catch up. Colin and Skye are just here with us."

It was a nice sentiment, but I didn't really think that who slept where really mattered. And I doubted that George felt different. I couldn't help but think it more about making sure Skye was comfortable. I mean, it's not like HE knew just how "familiar" she had gotten with me a few hours earlier. I figured that by the end of the day, we could convince the two adults that them sleeping apart was silly and we'd be fine. Then we could go at it like rabbits.

After sleeping away the rest of the morning, we got up around 1:00 and decided that since we were all still a little sluggish, fishing seemed to be the move. It required next to no energy, and if we got lucky, maybe we could catch ourselves some dinner that didn't come out of a can. At least the three guys did. Skye said that she wasn't much of a fishing person and preferred to just hang back and read a book she had brought. Colin and George seemed unconcerned by this, but I couldn't help but think differently.

Is she avoiding me? Is that the real reason we aren't sharing a tent? Did she regret fooling around? So much for a relaxing afternoon fishing.

It took about 15 minutes to walk the half mile to Curtis Creek. We found a small dock that jutted in, so that we wouldn't have to wade knee deep in the water like some of the other fishermen down stream, and we put down our stuff.

Even though I elected to go, I was actually much more like Skye when it came to fishing. It really wasn't my thing. People talk about it being peaceful, but for me, "peaceful" is more synonymous with "boring." Still, it gave me an opportunity to catch up with my brother. We had fallen a little out of touch the last month or so, as I buckled down for finals and made the overwhelming transition from news editor to managing editor at the paper. I always had a bad habit of failing to stay in contact with family and people from back home while I was at school. Turns out that we were more out of touch than I thought.

"So how is that girlfriend of yours? What's her name? Monica?"

"Monica? Jesus, you are WAYYY out of the loop, my dude."

"Oh geez. What happened? And when?"

"Like two months ago," I said, shaking my head and laughing. "She was just kinda 'eh'."

Monica and I started seeing each other right around Christmas, and we lasted until about the end of April. It was a classic case of a guy thinking with his dick. She was definitely hot — nice rack, tight stomach, dancers legs — she just didn't have much of a personality. We also didn't have much in common. She hated baseball, camping, and just about every television show I liked. The sex was good, but when we weren't hooking up, there was just kind of a void. An uncomfortable silence. She also didn't think that My Cousin Vinny was funny (she spent the entire movie texting when I tried to show it to her), which is 100% a deal breaker.

Once we got away from talk about my sex life, we moved on to much more pleasant topics. Colin and George were apparently about to adopt a German Shepard puppy named Champ from a shelter just outside of Baltimore. George put his fishing pole down and swiped through a couple of pictures of their visit last week and said that they were going to be picking him up the day they get back. I wasn't a huge dog person myself (I'm not a monster; it's just more work than I'm willing to put forth), but the dog did look cute, and George had always wanted one. I was happy for him.

We talked about other random things — my internship this summer and how it meant I'd be closer to them, what my plans were after graduating, and guessing what dad was REALLY doing to throw out his back. My money was on falling down the stairs, while George said he was SURE it was something like picking a remote up off the ground. Then Colin ruined the game with his own theory.

"Ten bucks says that he threw it out plowing your mom."

George and I both instantly cringed at the thought of our parents having intercourse. I contemplated telling Colin I was going to fuck his sister, but settled for throwing a worm at him.

When the sun started to set, we packed up and started to head back to the campsite. All in all, it was a pretty successful day. Colin had caught a couple big trout that looked promising. George had caught one as well. I had more or less struck out, but that was expected. I did catch one little guy, but he wasn't big enough by the gaming commissions standards, so we had to release him.

We got back right as it was getting dark out, and Colin and George began scaling and gutting our dinner. Skye and I were tasked with the job of starting the fire.

"How is your book?"

Skye hesitated to respond, but eventually let out a meek "It's fine."

Not good. Not good at all.

We got the fire going, but with minimal actual discussion. The few times our eyes met, her face became flush and she averted her gaze right away. She regretted what happened on the way. I fucking knew it.

As we cooked the trout over the bonfire, Skye sat on the opposite side of the circle and said very little. Colin tried to get her to open up more, even requesting that she sing as he broke out his guitar, but it was to no avail. I was crushed inside. I knew that she had been every bit a part of our fun as I did, and it wasn't like I had forced her to do anything she didn't want, but it still ate at me.

I liked Skye. A lot. And the more time I spent with her, the more I liked. It wasn't just the fact that she was stunning. We seemed to click. We had so much more in common than Monica and I ever did. I probably laughed more in the two conversations I had had with Skye than I did in the four months I dated Monica. Whether we had sex it not, I wanted that version of Skye to return.

I found myself comparing Skye and Monica to each other, unintentionally of course. They were different in almost every way. Monica was about a half a foot taller than Skye, and was definitely MUCH heavier up top. Monica had a set of breasts that could tempt George to switch teams (yes, I'm aware that isn't how it works, but you get what I mean). Meanwhile, Skye didn't have much of a chest. I figured that was the case for most gymnasts; double-D tits would probably get in the way on the uneven bars, right? But her lack of a rack didn't matter because Skye had literally the most perfect legs and ass I had ever seen. And while Monica was pretty, Skye was just stunning. And it always came back to that smile. I was convinced that I could see it every day for a decade and still melt every time. Not that I had seen it since we got out of the car that morning.

I had to find a way to make things right.

"Ryan?!"

"Huh?" I snapped out of my trance.

"I just said your name like three times. You ok, bud?" George looked concerned.

"I'm good, really." I replied, though he wasn't buying it. "Must be a little more tired than I thought. I guess I should hit the hay."

"It has been a long day," Colin noted. "Maybe it's that time for all of us." George and Skye nodded and we put out the fire for the night and got ready for bed.

—

On day two, the plan was to do a shorter trail in the morning before splitting up. After that, George and I were going to go to Wilson's Creek for some white water rafting, while Skye and Colin were going to go rock climbing. It was shaping up to be a hot day, and I was thankful that at least George and I would be spending the afternoon on the water.

Since it was already starting to get humid, we chose a trail that was right by our camp and only a mile or so long, George and I had walked this particular one a couple of times throughout the years, but it was still enjoyable. I mean, nature is nature.

Colin and Skye both seemed to love it, and I even caught Skye smiling a couple of times, though she quickly stopped when she saw me sneaking a glance at her. I spent more time watching Skye than the world around me, to be honest. It was far more enjoyable to see her reactions to everything than the trail itself.

Skye was still overly quiet. We hadn't said anything to each other beyond normal pleasantries, and even then, it was done with her eyes looking down at her feet — and maybe with a touch of coldness? I couldn't be certain. I was lost as to what to do.

After we got back to camp, we had a quick bite to eat and changed into clothes that were more appropriate for the activities we had planned. I changed into the one bathing suit I had, but as I came out of the tent, I noticed that Skye had done the same. I was confused.

"I thought that you and Colin were going to go rock climbing."

"It's really hot out. We figured that being on the water would be better. If that's OK with you," she added.

"Y-yea sure. The more the merrier," I said, trying to sound inviting.

The trek to Wilson's Creek could have technically been done by walking there, but we had our own equipment, so we had to drive. Upon getting to the beginning of the run, George and I got our stuff set up, while Colin and Skye went into the rental cabin to get their own.

"Are you and Skye OK?" George asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. She seemed excited to be going with us, and then we got here and she's barely said anything."

"I dunno," I lied. "It's not like I know her all that well."

George gave me a look that made it aware that he knew I was full of shit. I was eager to change the subject.

"Have they even done this before?"

White water rafting is an extreme sport. Furthermore, Wilson's Creek is a class five rapid (out of six). It's basically a double black diamond, if you are more familiar with skiing terminology. It's not the kind of run you do if you aren't experienced, and if you make a mistake and fall off your raft, it can be very difficult to rescue you. That is the main reason that I was so shocked by Colin and Skye's change of plans.

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course they have," George chided. "They haven't done anything this intense, but they'll be fine."

I was still a little concerned. I felt like they were being a little cavalier about a very rough run. I didn't want anyone getting hurt.

—-

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

I found myself being swept away by the rapid current, ricocheting off rock after rock. I couldn't believe it. After all of that talk about hoping that Skye and Colin didn't do anything stupid while rafting, I had gone and done it myself.

It all started when I hit a rock that I hadn't seen, causing me to spin around. That typically isn't that big of a deal — it isn't that unusual of an occurrence. However, before I could spin myself so I was facing the right way, I felt myself crashing down one of the falls.

The waterfall was probably a six-foot drop, but because I didn't see it coming, it caught me by surprise and threw me off my raft. Next thing I knew, I was doing my best impression of a pinball, struggling to keep my head above water.

For more than 100 yards, I continued my fight against the water, losing badly. I was scared, and I was traveling way faster than I could think. Every time I felt the impact of another rock, I tried to grab hold of it, but they were always too slick. My adrenaline was pumping, but the action was quickly exhausting me. I needed to find a way to stop and get to land.

Finally, I caught a break. As I hit another rock, I was able to grab on long enough to get a glimpse of what was ahead. There was a tree trunk that had fallen perpendicular to the run and was sticking out into the rapids just far enough to where I could reach it. I had one shot at this.

I lunged at it with all of the strength I had left in me, grabbing onto whatever I could. The first branch I tried broke off instantly, but I managed to grab hold of the trunk with my right hand. It held. Carefully, I crawled up the trunk and made it out of the water.

That was too fucking close.

I sat on the edge of the rapids for probably about five minutes. I was dinged up pretty badly, and I was hacking up a lot of water, but I knew I had to make it down to the clearing where the rest of the group was. Surely my raft would have already made it down, and they would start panicking when it got there empty. I did a quick check to confirm that nothing was hurt badly and started my walk of shame.

After about a half mile of following the water, I saw George, Skye, and Colin. George was on the phone, and Colin was pacing. Skye was the first to see me and ran over.

"He's here!" Skye yelled to our brothers. "Thank God you're safe!" She embraced me in a big hug.

George hung up the phone and he and Colin jogged over.

"Dude what happened?! Are you OK?" George asked.

"I'm fine. Went down one of the falls backwards and completely ate it. Got lucky and managed to get to shore pretty quickly, though." I lied. I didn't want to relive the experience again. I was exhausted and embarrassed.

"We should still head over to the EMT booth to get you checked out."

"That's not necessary, really. I just want to go back to the camp. I'm exhausted."

"At least let Skye take a look," Colin suggested. "She's pretty good with this stuff."

I figured that having her check me out was the best way to qualm their fears, so I agreed.

Skye took a step forward and tried to smile with the corners of her mouth to ease the tension, though it didn't really work.

After poking and prodding me for a few minutes, Skye concluded that I was right and, in fact, fine.

"Sorry I don't have a lollipop for you," she joked. It was the first time things had approached normal for us. I held out hope.

After Colin and Skye returned their rental equipment, we hopped back in the car to drive to camp. We were almost there when we heard the rumble of thunder.

"That's not good," I stated.

"OK Captain Obvious," Skye quipped back, bumping me with her shoulder.

Damn, if all it took to get back on Skye's good side was almost dying, I would have tried that earlier.

We got back right as the sky opened up. No bonfire tonight I guess.

——-

The next morning, I woke up to an empty tent. I had overslept. Not terribly surprising given what went on yesterday.

I changed into some khaki shorts and a t-shirt and went to unzip the tent. There was a note on it from George:

"Spending the day rock climbing with Colin. If you are up for it, you should check out the Upper Catawba Falls trail. Hear it's really pretty.

P.S. already packed a lunch for you two. It's in the backpack"

I took the note and got out of the tent, and I was greeted by a beautiful morning. The rain from last night had brought the humidity down considerably, and it was shaping up to be an incredible day. Temperature wise, at least. As for the day itself, I was still uneasy. Sure, Skye seemed to open up a little towards the end of yesterday, but she was still hiding something. The idea of spending the entire day, just the two of us, was daunting.

As I opened up a can of tuna for a quick breakfast, Skye was lounging on a towel and reading her book. She was wearing another pair of cutoff jean shorts, and a shirt that was knotted off to the side, exposing her midriff. With the sun shining down on her, she looked like an angel, and she wasn't even trying.

"Looks like George and Colin ditched us," I said, holding the note.

"Yeah, Colin said that they were going rock climbing and I was supposed to babysit you."

"Babysit? Did they at least give you pizza money?" I feigned offense.

"Nope. Seemed like a raw deal for me, but they didn't give me much of an option. So you better be a good boy."

"I'll be on my best behavior. Scouts honor.

"Anyways, while they're gone, do you have any interest in checking out Catawba Falls?" I continued. "It's a beautiful day, and it's one of the few trails I haven't done before."

"That actually sounds nice. Let me go pack us a lunch and we can head out now."

"George already covered that for us," I said, holding up the backpack.

"Well it's not 'pizza money,' but at least they didn't leave us completely high and dry."

There was that smile again.

The "trail" to Upper Catawba Falls was about three miles. I use quotes there because it isn't an official trail like many of the other ones in the area. There is nothing carved out, and you just kinda have to know where you are going. Because of this, it's a little more treacherous and you have to watch your footing a little bit more. I kinda preferred that, though. It made the experience more authentic — like we really were trekking through the wilderness. The only thing that kept me from feeling like an explorer was I was missing the giant machete to cut through the thicket. Probably for the best, given my propensity to hurt myself.

About a mile in, we reached a particularly narrow section of the trail. We had to navigate it single file, meaning that I was behind Skye. I couldn't help but get distracted by what was in front of me. Her shorts were so short that you could see the bottom of her ass. You know the creases where the thighs end and the butt begins? Hers were on full display, and I was mesmerized. So much so that I was completely unaware of the fact that she had stopped walking, causing me to bump into her.