We walked side by side through the tangle of nature. There was no breeze present to claim some of the heat. We were drowning in our own heat like before, which my shirt showed with sweat stains. It helped keep our minds on the objective: freshwater. I swear, we should have stumbled across the lake by now.

All we could do was continue walking and hope for the best. Of course, we could only go for so long until I noticed something while staring mindlessly at the ground. It made me raise a sweaty brow. "Where are your shoes?" I asked in amusement when I looked up to him.

I took note instantly of the change in his expression, of his own eyebrows as they lowered and his lips pressed into a line. Most of my attention went to the fact that he didn't look up to my eyes.

"I don't know," he mumbled.

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I... I took them off, threw them in the woods."

I nearly stopped our sluggish pace at this point. Did I hear him correctly? "What?" I asked, closing my eyes for a moment and shaking my head.

He didn't look proud with what he said next. "I... I hated knowing that I had shoes, and you have none especially when I knew you were probably freezing last night too. So I got angry, I took them off, and I threw them somewhere," he said bluntly.

Was he serious? I wouldn't think that he would actually do something like that — especially for feeling guilty knowing I was cold. Was it fair that he had shoes, and I didn't? Hell no. But that didn't mean he had to do that. "You know, that was stupid. We could have at least used them for something else."

"I didn't think it through," he muttered, eyes still on the ground.

I just rolled my eyes. I didn't think he was that senseless, but maybe he was. I won't lie, though. Even if stupid, his gesture was honest quite sweet.

Silence fell between us, and our thoughts drifted elsewhere like how we were supposed to survive. That was always something to think about. I wasn't really sure of what we would eat other than the berries or seafood. At the moment, both were not accessible.

I should have been thinking of something other than food at the moment because my stomach started growling. This place was better than my home back in Craftridge, but at least there, I had food and water.

"It's my own fault," he whispered, interrupting my thoughts.

"What are you talking about?"

He shook his head and sighed. "I was stupid to think she would actually answer the phone."

I stopped walking instantly. He stopped a few feet ahead but didn't turn to face me. "Who did you try to call?"

He looked reluctant to answer, guilt all over him when he turned to me. "Jill," he finally said.

My breath left me in an instant. "Your fiancée?"

He nodded, giving me a sorry expression. "She usually never answers her phone anyway," I heard him mutter, as if ashamed as he should be. "I don't know why I would have thought this time would have been different. I guess I just needed to hear her voice." He looked away.

I was surprised he was being this forthcoming and that I didn't need to pry that out of him. My anger clouded that. "You know, now that you say that, I'm pissed off for more than what I would have expected. You doomed yourself and now, even though I don't want to go home, I have things to take care of."

True, I wanted to stay here. If I had the choice like I said, I would stay here, but a subconscious promise to my mom swam in my heart. It would be like I was running away from my problems if I had a chance to go home, and I didn't take it. I knew I had no future there, but I needed to set things right if I could. I needed to reveal that my father was involved with her murder. Even though that couldn't happen for the possibility that I would be killed, I owed it to her someday.

What I said to him was obviously open for questions. "What could you have to take care of? You were stuck and had no way out. You said you had to endure your father until you turn eighteen and then you would leave."

What he didn't know was that I lied about that, but I sure wasn't telling him that. "Yes, but I have some things to take care of. I'm not letting this get off topic. Why couldn't you just call someone that you knew would get us out of here?"

"I know, and I'm sorry because I wasn't even thinking. Then, I went off to you."

I shook my head. "Talk about selfish," I said harshly. I walked on, leaving him struggling behind. Good. I wasn't going to feel bad about my earlier concerns; it wasn't my fault for forgetting about the phone when he was the one that wrecked the chance of getting back home.

For the rest of the day, I showed him that it would take more for me to forgive him that easily. He deserved me ignoring him. It was such a selfish thing he did... It really did surprise me he would do such a stupid thing like that. Who the hell would do what he did? For the reason that he did it? My God. Why would he do that to us? Why would he do that to himself?

I was fuming. When evening arrived, and the sun was setting, I tried forcing better thoughts upon my silent self... like how this was in the past, and we couldn't do anything about what happened now, and how guilty I was of something stupid too.

When darkness was approaching, after a long day of walking, he sighed and stopped walking. "We should make a camp."

I stopped with him, turned and faced him. I nodded hesitantly at the first words spoken in hours. We really should probably make camp. I didn't want to waste time to find water or food but looking at night wouldn't help much especially if I was frozen.

My body was preparing for the night ahead with the goosebumps that rose from the cold. It didn't help that we had no extra clothing to use for blankets, which sucked with the nights getting colder.

Despite being upset still, I was happy Mr. Rush was here. Not just because I would feel safe with him but because I saw something different about him. He seemed more human now than he did before. It made me feel a form of comfort.

"Can we make a fire?" I asked him as he stood before me.

He sighed in relief, happy I was at least talking to him. "We can try. It will be hard."

We gathered dried up sticks, brush, and leaves and set them in a pile. Then, we stared at it as if hoping it would magically come alive. Mr. Rush sighed and looked around. Then he walked a few feet behind me only to retrieve two thick sticks. I raised my eyebrow. "Does that actually work?"

"Yeah. Not sure if it will actually happen with us, but we'll see."

We both knelt down in front of the pile, and Mr. Rush went to work in an instant. He began rubbing one stick against the other, causing friction that would hopefully set off a spark. After five minutes, though, nothing happened. Then after another five minutes, the slight breeze in the air became stronger.

"Do you think it's the wind?"

He already considered that and nodded. "Yeah."

Repositioning himself, he moved closer to the pile, putting his back to the breeze. He made sure that the air wasn't getting to it as he continued rubbing the sticks together. Nothing happened still besides the fact that I could hear his breath pick up as he pushed the sticks faster and with more desperation. Yet, we saw no spark in the darkness. He didn't want to give up according to the sound of his teeth colliding in between gasps. It felt as if it was getting colder by the second when I started shivering like that too.

Soon enough, it seemed as if he was ready to go into hysterics. With how hard he was trying, it appeared he wanted this more than anything. Was he beating himself up over earlier? Was he just that cold?

I found my answer when I reached over to take the sticks away and tell him to stop. In the darkness, my hand ended up resting on his bare chest instead of his hands at first. That brush of the skin only lasted a second, but it was enough to make me feel the short curly hair on his chest. What I noticed most though was the texture of his skin and how chilly he was. Besides making my heart jump, touching his chest also allowed me to feel concern for him. Not about his future or anything like before. More about this moment. I wanted him to feel warm and better about the situation.

My hand found his and I ended up taking the sticks from his grip as I intended. "Th-That's enough, okay? You tried, and there is no use t-tonight. The wind is too much, it's okay." My voice was calm and friendly despite being upset earlier and the chatter of my own teeth.

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding defeated. Though I couldn't see his face or eyes, I knew what he meant. He was sorry about not thinking and calling Jill when he shouldn't have. He must have been taking his guilt out on the sticks.

I sighed. "I know. It's not like you meant it."

I felt him take my hand and stand, pulling me up with him. I could see his shape slightly as he guided me with caution. "Where are we going?" I asked.

"To find a better place to sleep." Mr. Rush stopped and lowered himself to the ground slowly, my hand still in his. I didn't want to admit it, but my hand in his, it was nice. It felt as if his hand perfectly fit in mine.

That contact broke after he guided me down next to him. We were huddled against a tree that was blocking the wind, which did help. The night was still cold, though, and he sighed as if he realized this too. "Well, at least we are out of the wind," he said as he laid down next to me. I slid down too and turned to face him. I couldn't see him, but knowing he was near helped me.

"How can it be this cold at night and so hot during the day?" I questioned.

"Beats me."

"'Beats me?' You are the teacher."

"English, remember?" he said, making me smile slightly.

We fell asleep faster than I had the last night. It was a nice surprise too. With how cold it was, I didn't expect to get any. It completely changed though when we woke the next morning, and I found myself covered in sweat again. I looked over to Mr. Rush, who was a couple of feet away, still sleeping. Glancing around, I saw the tree we slept against before standing up.

Instantly, something came over me. It started with a swarming sensation in my head. Then, in the next moment when it continued growing, I was immediately dizzy. It forced me to rest a hand against the rough bark of the tree so I could steady myself.

My first thought was that it was my back and the stupid scratch causing it. That must have been the cause, right? I didn't understand. Lately, it's been feeling better. Why then am I feeling tired and dizzy? I stood there and tried to clear my vision until I realized what it was. I recalled how long it's been since I consumed food or water.

I tried to slowly walk but only fell to the ground on my knees after that experiment. What I felt more than the impact was my dizzy head aching. It wouldn't stop spinning, and my body was not cooperating.

"Mr. Rush?" I called, hoping he would wake up. "Mr. Rush?" I said a little louder, and I heard him moan. "Get up."

I couldn't see him with my tired and spinning eyes so I closed them and hoped the dizziness would go away. I heard an answer from his groggy voice. "What?"

I opened my eyes and tried focusing on him. He was a little blurry, but I made out that he stood up and rested against the tree. I forced my head to clear as best as it could and struggled to my feet. "We need to move and find some water. Food, too."

When I got to my feet and steadied myself, I let the tree help me again. It allowed my sight to clear more. I took him in from where he stood beside me, leaning against the tree too. He must be affected too. His hair was greasy and damp as it stuck to his sweaty head. The man's eyes looked a little lost too.

"Oh god," he muttered. Being not nearly as bad as I am, he tried focusing on me more, making sure I wouldn't fall over again.

We both stood still for a minute, willing all of the dizziness to disappear for now. Taking a few cautious steps after a moment, we noticed we could see straight. It was getting better with each minute until we were off. Off and continuing our endless walking.

That didn't mean we were in good shape. We were, in no way, able to match our pace to yesterday's, but we tried.

"Mr. Rush?" I asked a while into our walking. We felt better than earlier but for how long would that last?

"Hmm?" he moaned under the huge hot lamp in the sky.

"What happens if we can't find anything today?"

"Remember what you said about piss?"

I cringed as he said the words. Hearing that, on instinct, I doubled my speed. It didn't last long, though. It made my head ache more, and the intense heat didn't help. It took me back to my normal pace alongside him, who looked slightly amused at my effort.

Beside small exchanges like that, all that was between us were our heavy breaths and shuffling footsteps. The only thoughts that were running through my head were related to water like the waterfall at that lake, ice cubes in a glass, and the rain. Throw in a couple of chocolate bars into my fantasy and that was what I spent most of the day thinking about. Until I couldn't take it any longer.

"You need to distract me," I said, not bothering to look up from the ground.

It sounded like he was trying to laugh but only started to cough. I looked up, worried. He sighed and said, "You distract me, and I will do the same for you."

I racked my brain. "Why did you pick to teach?" I had nothing else at the time to ask. I did always kind of want to know, though.

"I like the idea of gaining as much knowledge as one can. I like the feeling that I'm helping or guiding students to meet a good future."

"I guess it isn't because you like kids?"

He was silent for a minute. "Is that how it seems? That I am a mean and strict teacher who loathes kids?"

I recalled what I could of his class. "Well, yeah," I said. "You were nice to us I guess. You just never came across as someone who actually enjoys interacting with students."

"Well, that is different. I come across sometimes as a strict ass so they don't think they can walk all over me. Plus, I admit, I don't like some of the kids."

I snorted at his words. "Why?"

"Don't get me wrong, I like most students. Some are real slackers. They are selfish because they only care about what is easy and fun for them. They don't care about what will help their lives and the future for everyone else. I understand having fun as a kid. But they are in high school. They should at least be mature and know that the future matters."

I dragged my feet through the tall grass. A couple of roots snaked up from the ground as we stepped over them. I hid my shame at his words by concentrating on my steps so he wouldn't see my face. "What do you mean everyone's future?"

"Those kids, they are our future after we are gone. They will be the ones to run the world."

"And I'm sure I'm one of those students." I looked up and smirked at him, showing I didn't care what he thought. In reality, it made my stomach twist.

He remained serious though and shook his head. "No, not at first. I remember at the beginning of the year, you got your work done and even respected me. Then you changed. Rapidly. You turned into one of those slackers and didn't seem to care about anything, including your future. I didn't feel sorry for you either. You made that your choice." He was talking about my rapid change from my mother being alive to when I learned she died. It made me see that my future was as good as gone.

I didn't know how to respond. Either way, he wasn't done. "There was something different, though. Everyone else, all the other losers, they started out that way. I saw your intentions of a bright future. Then, you changed so suddenly. I was curious as to why and wasn't sure if it was as simple as not caring. You didn't seem like that person," he said in a thoughtful voice. Watching him intently as we walked, I noticed him lick his lips as he continued. "When I saw those messages, I knew your life at home wasn't good and that could have affected it."

I couldn't believe how much he was revealing to me. I was quite shocked at his accuracy. "Or maybe I just decided I wanted to give you a hard time," I said in a joking manner.

"No. You aren't that kind of person," he said. "You're hiding the reason from me. Something happened to you, and it changed you. Before you told me that you didn't care about your future, I didn't believe that." It sounded as if he was catching on.

I scoffed, too quickly saying, "I think you are overthinking things."

He knew he guessed right. However, he also must have heard the note in my voice that told him I really didn't want to talk about this because he remained silent. Before he decided to speak up, I jumped in and asked something that was related to this. Not to mention, I was curious. "And what was with all those looks you gave me? Were you really that curious?" I knew this was a subject that would distract him.

He answered me in a quiet voice. "I don't know what you're talking about." A glance at his face said he knew what I meant, but I let it go as he did a few seconds ago for me.

We continued on in silence again. The reason for those questions came back and so did the slimy feeling of sweat on my body. My mind returned to the emptiness of my stomach and the feeling of my dry mouth. If we didn't find anything today, we would be in bad shape by tomorrow.