Wilderness

by Thalia

The place was muggy and damp and positively infested by mosquitoes. Nicholas decided that there was decidedly something unglamorous about the whole experience, though the incessant whining of his younger siblings might have something to do with his general dislike of the excursion.

By the time they reached the campsite at long last, with its shabby-looking wooden cabins, it was sunset. No one was in the mood for sappy songs and marshmallows, and it was certainly just his luck that the twins insisted on fighting over who got to shower first.

He decided to leave the cabin instead of listening to the arguments. Mosquitoes were preferable to whiny twelve-year-olds.

He had the grand misfortune of crashing headlong into another figure exiting the cabin next to theirs within two minutes of stepping outside.

Nicholas felt grass and dew underneath his back, and groaned. "There goes my shirt."

"Watch the hands, buddy." The voice was crisp and feminine, with a hint of warning. It was only then that Nicholas noticed that his fingers were digging into her hips, and the female sprawled over his form was glaring down at him through wispy brown bangs and impossibly long eyelashes.

Her form and features became more clear when they both stood upright. She was tall, with the sort of limber yet lush figure that he associated with statues of marble Roman goddesses. Red-brown curls tumbled from a ponytail, and Nicholas made out bright eyes, a pert nose and full lips in the moonlight.

"Who are you?" he asked, irritably trying to brush any dirt off his back.

"Lita," came the curt response. "You?"

"Nick." A pause. "What are you doing out here?"

One perfectly arched eyebrow raised as she gave him a sideways look. "You don't know about the meteor shower tonight?"

And how was he supposed to know about such a thing? His blank expression must have given him away, for she tsked and grabbed his wrist with a surprisingly warm, strong hand. "You're missing out," she told him in a light tone. "Follow me."

Nicholas, a self-confessed city boy whose favourite possession was his new sports car and whose idea of a good time included bright neon lights and strobes at a club with quality alcoholic drinks, found himself following her away from the cabins and through the woods, to a hill that overlooked the park. For the next two hours, they lay on the damp, cold grass and watched the lights streaking across the sky, and time to time, he glanced at her lips as she talked about the mythology that her parents had told her about the celestial bodies when she was just a girl. It was different and somehow fascinating and he felt as though he was experiencing something almost holy. Things weren't crowded here, and it was just him and her.

He finally returned to his cabin at dawn, dusty and sleepy and smiling to himself, and barely even looked at the grass and dirt stains on his favourite jeans before going to bed at peace with the world.